Page 25 of Judge's Mercy

“I don’t know what you want from me.” His features soften, and even with me standing here in my underwear, his gaze doesn’t lower. God, he’s such a good man, and I’m a piece of shit for asking this of him.

“I just want you,” I say, placing his hands on my hips. His touch sends shivers down my spine, awakening a dormant desire I thought I had buried. “But more than that, I trust you, and I don’t trust anyone anymore.” I lean into him. “So please, Judge. Touch me, fuck me, make me come. Just do something.”

He frowns and looks away. “Myla. . .”

My nerves are frayed, and the rejection stings. I’m not ashamed to have worked at the Honey Pot, but I’ll always wonder if it’ll get in the way of future relationships. So, of course, that’s where my mind immediately goes because I know he wants me. The hard-on he was sporting minutes ago proved that.

“Just say it if you don’t want me because I’m a whore.” I should’ve known. The priest biker wouldn’t fornicate with a sinner like me. I’m used goods; isn’t that what I was taught growing up? During a lesson in my Young Women’s class, they compared virginity to a piece of gum. They warned us not to allow our gum to be chewed before marriage because when a Godly man comes looking for a wife, he’ll choose a girl with a fresh stick of gum over you and your flavorless wad covered in another man’s saliva.

They’d be horrified if they knew I lost my virginity three months after starting work at the Thirst Trap. The guy was a frequent flyer at the strip club who said all the right things, and I was new to living in the real world, so I ate up everything he said. I was so naive and actually expected him to call the next day. No one but me was surprised when he showed up the next week, sweet-talking another girl and not even sparing me a glance. I was heartbroken. I had given that man my gum, and he chewed it up and spit it out on the sidewalk.

It was the cold water to the face that I needed, though. I wasn’t in Utah anymore and quickly realized the real lesson my fundamentalist church leaders were trying to instill in us wasn’t that our virginity was precious; it was that our pussies held power, and it was up to us how we used it.

The job offer at the Honey Pot was my way of harnessing and taking back that power. I chose who I fucked and was paid well to do it. If a judgmental biker holds that against me, then it’s his problem. I don’t regret anything besides being home when those sadistic motherfuckers came looking.

The memory of that day takes over, and I drop Judge’s warm, soft hands. As I walk into my bedroom, my chest tightens painfully, and a lump forms in my throat. I fight to combat a soul-wrenching sob from escaping as tears prick at my eyes and my nose stings. I picture how pathetic I was on my knees, my eyes squeezed shut. Not that it helped. Sight is only one of the senses. I can still hear them spitting on their disgusting dicks and the wet sound of them jerking off. I wretch just thinking about the thick globs of warm semen hitting my battered and bruised face and, because my hands were tied, I just had to endure the repulsive cum dripping down my face.

There hasn’t been a moment since then that I haven’t felt that same anguish and desperation. I was hoping Judge could understand that and help me through this, but I guess not.

“Myla,” he calls after me.

I vigorously shake my hands, trying to expel my anxious energy, but my breaths are coming too fast. “I can’t do it. I can’t feel like this for even a minute more. I won’t. I’d rather die.”

It’s the most honest thing I’ve ever said to anyone. Having the names on the list gave me the smallest flicker of hope that I could banish the rage living inside me, but the short reprieve from my first kill didn’t last. Now it’s back, and I’m too tired to fight. Not when leaving this world sounds so much better than staying in it.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath before gripping me by the biceps and slamming his lips to mine. Shock has me frozen as he delivers a punishing kiss.

When I don’t pull away, he releases my arms and cups my face in his hands, sucking my lower lip into his mouth and then sinking his teeth into it. The bite of pain wakes me up and coaxes me to play along.

He smells like an intoxicating mix of old leather and warm spice as my lips move against his. My heart still pounds in my chest, but now it’s for a whole new reason, and slowly, my tight chest loosens. I grip his forearms, probably to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, but I can’t be certain because Judge is scrambling my brain with this kiss.

He licks the seam of my lips, asking for permission. The second I part for him, he plunges his tongue into my mouth with a moan that makes my clit pulse. In a swift move, he bends and grips me by the backs of my thighs, lifting me up. My legs instinctually wrap around him, and I lock my ankles at the base of his spine. Weaving my hands into his silky hair, I press my aching breasts against his chest, getting as close to him as I can. Arousal dampens my panties, and I know when he puts me down, there’ll be a wet spot on his shirt. I just don’t have it in me to care.

Any thought of murder, suicide, or the day that changed my life forever gets pushed aside by the overwhelming feeling of Judge’s wicked tongue sliding against mine. Yes, this is what I was so desperate for because lust is replacing all my demons. Even if it’s temporary and the darkness returns, at least I had this.

His strong hands move from my thighs to my ass, molding perfectly to each cheek. He gives me a firm squeeze and guides me toward the bed. I break away from his lips, gasping for air as he tosses me onto the soft mattress. Standing over me, his blue eyes hold a confidence that sends shivers down my spine. He only kissed me, but already, I’m questioning why I ever thought he’d be a timid lover. His genuinely gentle and sweet personality tricked me, but I should’ve known better. A carefully restrained man has to have a release, and that usually happens in the bedroom.

As I gaze up at him, my desire only intensifies, fueling my curiosity about what other surprises he may have in store for me. Eager to find out, I lift onto my knees, my fingers deftly unclasping the back of my bra as I challenge him to show me more.

“Don’t,” he commands, lowering to untie his boots. If I was surprised by his prowess, I’m even more surprised by my immediate submission. After being let down time and time again, I don’t trust men to know what I want, and I definitely don’t trust them to get me off, but Judge’s energy has me believing he might be the exception. “Let me.”

He stands to his full height, using the toe of one boot to pull off the other before balancing on each foot to remove his socks. His bare feet are pale and a little bony, with a smattering of coarse hair. The sight of them feels more intimate than anything we’ve done together thus far.

With hunger in his eyes, his deft fingers pop the clasp of my bra and drag the straps down my arms, revealing my breasts that feel heavy and sensitive, like all it would take to set me off is a cool breeze. He mutters a curse as he palms one and circles a finger around the nipple of the other. I swallow and close my eyes, losing myself to the sensation.

“Eyes open. If I’m going to replace the bad memories, you have to watch what I do to you,” he says, and again, I obey, watching as he releases me to remove his leather cut and the strip of white in his collar. I thought he was going to give me a show and remove everything, but he stops undressing after popping the top two buttons of his shirt and yanking off his belt. “Lie back.”

My instinct to argue has dissipated, and like the good girl he wants me to be, I fall back. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches my tits bounce with the movement, and I wonder if he knows that my view of his throat is just as arousing. He places his hands on my knees and pauses, making me squirm nervously. I swear to God, if he changes his mind. . . well, I don’t know what I’d do, but it would be ugly.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I need you, Judge. Please.”

He purses his lips and nods, pushing my knees apart until I’m spread wide for him. My panties are absolutely destroyed by how wet I am, but he hums in approval as he strokes up and down my barely-covered slit. “This all for me?”

“Yes,” I whisper, gripping the sheets at my side. My body coils tighter with each whisper-soft swipe. It’s a tease that’s keeping me on edge and, more importantly, keeping me here with him and not in that dark place. His other hand cups my breast, and with the same light touch, he grazes a thumb over my nipple. He’s barely touching me, yet I’m nearly coming apart. How is this possible?

“I’ll make you forget, sweetheart. I’ll fuck you until all that’s left is me. Is that what you want?”

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