Page 77 of Of Mercury and Mist

Ashley broke, convulsing in my arms so hard I was the only thing holding her up as she screamed. Picking up my pace, I plunged my cock into her depths, letting the white-hot ball of heat form at the base of my spine until my release shot from me, coating her inner walls as I roared.

Smoothing my hand down the delicate curve of her back, I gazed at her skin glowing under the beams of the moon streaming in through the skylight overhead. She was everything I’d ever dreamed she would be. Soft, responsive, stabby, and sweet. I’d found the perfect woman.

She was panting softly, resting a cheek on the cool marble surface of the table when I lifted her into my arms, her own wrapping around my neck as she tucked into me. Our mutual release leaked on me as I clutched her, carrying her into the ensuite bathroom.

I set her down on the tiles and as I reached for the control, I caught her wobbly stare. She appeared both crushed and content, the dual emotions fighting for predominance. As much as I wanted to, I had no idea what she was thinking. Her spirit was still clutched closely to her chest, the aftereffects of our lovemaking tinging it red around her loins, but it was fading fast. A misty golden glaze sparkled around her skin, muted.

“You’re holding secrets,” I said. “You will divulge them, whether that’s right now, or perhaps later. You will not hide from me.”

Water poured from the showerhead while I removed the rest of my clothing. Ashley’s head dipped but she stood, her spine straight, and stepped under the water, letting the stream course over her skin and wash away the blood, cum, and spit. The marks on the crook of her neck were gone, but I’d left the punctures on her breast and eyed them with satisfaction.

She caught where my gaze traveled and glared at me, waiting for me to heal them. Stepping in front of her, I flicked them with a nail. “These are staying.”

She rolled her eyes and reached for her bodywash, but I snatched it from her hand. I treated the things I owned with the utmost care; I had high standards.

When we finished, she patted her hair dry with a towel, a second one wrapped around her torso. I tucked one around my waist and couldn’t help but get irritated over the admiring gaze that perused my form. Did she prefer me with the mess of dark ink etched into my skin? Did the slightly bulkier form I’d donned fill her nighttime fantasies?

It was never supposed to be this way.

Her eyes met my own before they widened, and she quickly glanced away. My own aura had rushed around the room, carrying with it my darkness, anger, and intensity. Shakily, she placed the towel on the counter and grabbed the lotion she used in her hair. Maybe she couldn’t see it, but I knew she’d felt it.

“No, I will do it,” I said, stopping her. Grabbing her around the waist, I set her on the counter and spread the product between my palms.

“How do you know how to care for curly hair?” she asked, sniffling.

I began smoothing it through her strands. “I was trained well.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Ashley

Isaac was killing me.

He was an absolute beast in bed and in general, controlling, particular, and extremely possessive. But he was also sweet. And caring. And he toyed with me, giving me the little adrenaline rushes I craved like oxygen.

He’d wake me up from a sound sleep to ravish me, barge into the bathroom as I showered to shove me to the floor and thrust his dick in my mouth. Then he’d have dozens and dozens of blood-red roses delivered to me here at the penthouse while he was at work. When he found out I loved apple pie flavored coffee, he forced the hotel to start serving it.

In the evening, when he wasn’t grilling me about my day, we’d sit in the living room and he’d stare at me, watching. He reminded me so much of Micha it was both horrible and comforting. I made the best of it I could, but I didn’t want a decoy. Isaac said he knew everything about me, so he likely had looked into Micha and found out the things I wanted to keep hidden.

Every now and then Isaac would do something that sent a dagger straight through my heart. The couple times he’d called me “angel,” and then the way he took care of my hair. The worst was biting me on the same breast. He had the nerve to leave the marks precisely where Micha had bitten me, almost like he knew what it’d meant to me and had to erase him.

Despite all of that, I was doing better and becoming acclimated to my new life. I feared the moment the thirty days were up because despite Isaac’s brutish ways, I’d come to care for him. He wouldn’t tell me much about the past, but he’d divulged he been hurt badly in the past by a woman he’d loved and remained single afterward for a very long time. Until he met me. Or rather, until he saw me. He’d said he knew instantly he wanted me.

It was as flattering as it was disturbing but life was good. When he was too much for me, I left messes behind for him.

“What?” Isaac knotting his tie. It was Saturday and he was taking me to get a dress in a few minutes for a gala he was required to attend tonight. It was last-minute, as he’d been busy, but he reassured me that everything would work out on pain of death.

“Nothing,” I giggled again.

“Ashley,” he drawled, a hint of warning in his tone.

“I was just remembering you following the trail of coffee beans into the kitchen.” I couldn’t hide my smirk.

“Is that so? You should recall you paid for that.” Dark amusement colored his eyes while his lips twitched as he held back his smile. “Your mouth did; for laughing at me.”

“I’ll never forget how confused you were.”

“Evil woman,” he muttered, tugging on his suit jacket.

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