Page 38 of Begging for Mercy
Sometimes, I think he only tolerates me because we’re all each other has.
But then I seethis.
Rewinding the recording from a few hours ago, I watch as Zane pins Mercy to the wall and shoves his hand beneath her skirt. Pride swells inside my chest, but not nearly as strong as the blood pooling between my thighs. I grip my fat cock in my right hand and turn the volume up with my left, watching the scandal unfold for the dozenth time. He whispers something in her ear, and she blushes like the pretty virgin she is, grinding all over his fingers until she comes.
Fucking breathtaking.
Then he has to go and ruin the moment by running away.
I know that Zane doesn’t operate by the same rules that I do, but Mercy was ripe and ready for the taking. By rejecting her, he’s bruised her ego. Otherwise, I would have been able to make her come tonight. But Zane got into her head, and now she’s not sure about her value. I don’t want her because she’s a virgin—I want her because she’sMercy.
My Siren, who’s too scared to sing for anyone other than the dead.
I rewind the video again and switch to another camera until I’ve successfully pulled up two separate feeds of the same few seconds, splitting them amongst two monitors. Mercy’s body is in perfect view on one screen while the other is focused on Zane. I can’t see nearly enough of Zane’s face because of how he’s folded over Mercy’s body, but I catch the red flush burning down his neck and over the tips of his ears, and from this angle, I can see how he uses both his wrist and his arm to get her off. The skirt is another obstacle to the show, but Mercy’s blissed out face more than makes up for it.
Fisting my cock, I stroke slow and steady, prepared to take in the moment as best I can without having been in the room whenit happened. My gaze travels between the two of them, and my mind starts wandering from the recording of them together to fond memories I have of them apart.
Mercy grinding on top of me this afternoon.
Zane fucking his fist to a video of me topping a guy a few years back. I only walked in on him masturbating once, and I’m pretty sure that scarred him for life, because I haven’t seen or heard him jerk off since. The man is sexually repressed, and I feel like I’m to blame.
Man,tonight is not my night.
I stop stroking my cock and close the videos. Leaning back in my office chair, I take a deep breath and try to come up with a plan. The desire to kill Mercy gets stronger every day, but that’s only because I can’t wait to watch her unravel. She’s like a painting that gets better and better the more you work the canvas. I’m eagerly awaiting the finished piece.
In fact, the past few days I’ve spent away from her have given me time to compose a few pieces. None of them are quite right—I’m missing an element that I haven’t figured out yet—but I know that it’ll come to me in time, and I’ll finish all of them in a sprint to the finish line.
Zane will be ecstatic that I’ve moved on from Alejandro.
Shaking my head, I put Alejandro out of my mind and focus on Mercy. Watching her ask Zane on a date was goddamn adorable, but the way he refused her hurts.
Not just for her—but forme.
Why the fuck wouldn’t he want to go on a date with me?
I grind my jaw as I stew over that little detail. I know he’s attracted to me. We don’t have the same hangups that he has with Mercy. I trust him with my life, and I know he feels the same about me. We’re bonded. Brothers. Friends. No matter the title or how you phrase it, that’s just what we are. Together.Through thick and thin, heaven and hell. Always have been, always will be.
Mercy won’t change that, no matter what happens.
I just wish he would trust in our bond more, but the fucker has issues even I can’t solve.
Shoving my still-hard cock into the waistband of my sweats, I stand from my chair and leave my bedroom. Zane’s room is two doors down, separated by a guest room no one fucking uses, and I march right on over. Without knocking, I turn the door handle and push inside. “Zane,” I call out, flicking on the light. “Man, stop being a prick and go on a double date with me and Mercy. You don’thaveto kiss me, but if the ‘kiss cam’ turns our way, pucker up because?—”
I stare at Zane’s empty bedroom for a moment before I sit down on his bed. Smoothing my hand over the sheets, I lean back and kick up my feet, burrowing my arm under his pillow and lying on my side. Something scratches the back of my hand, and I fumble around until I pull a playing card from out of nowhere.
A really weird playing card.
A shirtless man—aridiculously hotshirtless man—offers his hand out to me. The curved script along the bottom edge readsThe Devil, and I can’t help but grin. Yeah, Zane’s always been into men more than women, and here’s the proof. Flicking the edge of the card, I shove it back under his pillow for safe-keeping.
What a childish thing, keeping a porno card beneath his pillow.
I snicker to myself about it while I wait for Zane to appear. But the longer it takes, the more restless I get. My dick twitches just as impatiently, ready to go off at a moment’s notice. Sighing, I rub it a little through my pants, knowing that I’m stoking the beast rather than putting it to bed. Another few minutes pass,and I use Zane’s computer to print off a few male and female models’ photos. Once they’re taped to the wall next to his bed, I stand back in triumph.
Maybe a little nudie incentive will get his pump flowing again.
I bet if I printed my picture—or better yet, a picture of me and Mercy together—it’d work. But I don’t have a picture of us, clothed or otherwise, to use, and I sure as shit can’t photoshop.
What Icando is paint something.
