Page 33 of No Mercy
With a soft tug, he slides the fabric down, baring my thighs to the cool air. My skin prickles, every nerve alight as he steps back to survey me. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze, a mix of vulnerability and something deeper, darker. “You’ve been hiding something,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet authority that makes my pulse race. “What are you talking about?” I whisper, my voice shaking. Instead of answering, he pulls something from his pocket—a sleek, unmistakable shape that makes my breath hitch.
““Recognise this?” he asks, holding it up so I can see it clearly in the dim light. My eyes widen as I take in the vibrating toy he’s holding. My toy. “How did you—” My words falter as realisation dawns. The parcel I’d dismissed as misplaced. It wasn’t. “You really should keep a closer eye on your things,” he says, his tone laced with amusement.
Embarrassment and indignation flare to life, but they’re quickly overshadowed by the way he moves, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. “Let’s see if you’ve been missing out,” he murmurs, switching the toy on with a faint hum that sends my pulse skyrocketing.
“Wait—” I start, but the word dissolves into a gasp as he presses the toy lightly against the inside of my thigh. The vibrations are faint but insistent, teasing as he drags it higher,closer to where I need him most. My legs shake, and I clutch at the wall for support, my breathing ragged.
“Sensitive,” he observes, his tone tinged with satisfaction.
I squeeze my eyes shut, biting down on my lip to stifle the sounds threatening to escape. But he doesn’t let up. Instead, he adjusts the angle, letting the toy graze over the thin lace of my panties. “Don’t hold back,” he says, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to hear you.”
A strangled moan escapes me as the vibrations intensify, pleasure sparking through me in sharp, dizzying waves. He’s relentless, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and firmer, more deliberate pressure that has me writhing against the wall.
“Please,” I gasp, the word slipping out before I can stop it.
“Please what?” he asks, his gloved fingers gripping my hip to keep me still.
“I can’t—” My words break off into a cry as he pulls the lace aside, pressing the toy directly against my bare skin. “You can,” he says, his voice steady, assured. “And you will.”
My body arches involuntarily, my head falling back as the sensation overwhelms me. It’s too much and not enough all at once, every nerve alight as he coaxes me closer to the edge. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his words soft but potent, grounding me even as I teeter on the brink.
“You can take more,” he says, his tone dark, commanding. “I know you can.” His fingers slip beneath the lace, parting me as he presses the toy directly against my bare skin. The sensation is almost too much, pleasure crashing over me in waves as my body arches into him.
I can’t speak, can’t think, lost in the rhythm of the vibrations and the way his hand keeps me grounded, his grip firm on my waist.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice a low growl.
“Yes,” I cry out, my body trembling against him.
“Not yet,” he says, pulling the toy away just as I teeter on the edge.
A frustrated whimper escapes me, and he chuckles, the sound low and wicked. “Patience, Buttercup,” he says, his tone dripping with amusement. “I want to feel you fall apart for me.” He presses the toy against me again, this time turning up the intensity. My body jolts, my hands clawing at the wall as I struggle to hold myself upright.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, coaxing. “Let go, Eva. Cum for me.” The command shatters the last of my restraint. My body spasms, pleasure ripping through me as I cry out in pleasure, my voice raw and unrestrained. He holds me through it, his arms wrapping around me as I collapse against him.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my temple as he turns the toy off and sets it aside.
“You did so well,” he murmurs, his tone softer now, almost tender.
I can barely lift my head, my limbs heavy with exhaustion. He scoops me up effortlessly, carrying me to the bed and laying me down as though I’m something precious. The warmth of the covers settles over me, but it’s his presence that keeps me grounded. I try to fight the pull of sleep, my mind swirling with questions I can’t voice. Who is he really? Why does he feel so familiar? But the exhaustion is too much, and my eyes flutter shut.
Just as sleep begins to take me, his fingers brush against my cheek, a touch so gentle it feels like a memory. “Goodnight Eva,” he whispers, his voice carrying a weight that lingers even as I slip into unconsciousness. But just before the darkness claims me, something clicks, a fragment of memory that had been buried in the depths of my mind. The way he said my name, the tone of his voice… Axel Ashford.
The name slams into me like a jolt, and I struggle to open my eyes, to say something, to confirm what I already know. But the pull of sleep is stronger, and the name follows me into the dark.
CHAPTER 18
AXEL
I lay Eva down,gently pulling the covers over her to keep her warm. The room is quiet except for her steady breathing, the soft rise and fall of her chest lulling me into a dangerous sense of calm. Tilting my head to the side, I can’t help but smile as she nestles deeper into the bed, her face soft and unguarded in sleep.
Reaching out, I brush her cheek with the back of my finger. Her skin is warm beneath my touch, and for a moment, I allow myself to indulge in the thought of staying like this—of being the man who could. “Goodnight, Eva,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat.
I step back, ready to leave, but then… a faint murmur escapes her lips, freezing me in place. My heart thuds in my chest as I strain to catch it again, wondering if it was my imagination.
“Axel Ashford.”
My name, spoken so softly, yet it feels like a shout in the silence of the room. I hesitate, torn between stepping closer and walking away. My gaze fixed on her, trying to decipher if she’s awake or if I’m just the ghost haunting her dreams. I lean down, careful not to disturb her, my breath barely stirring the air between us. Since the day I met her, I’ve kept my distance. I’ve buried feelings I have no right to feel, locked them behindwalls of reason and restraint. But seeing her now, so close and so vulnerable, makes every defence I’ve built feel like it’s crumbling.
