Page 12 of Stitch's Mercy

Tingles sparked in my pussy, but I ignored them. “Am I allowed to wash the blood off my face and change into dry clothes?”

“Sure. I’ll help.”

“I’m a nurse and capable of tending to a bloody nose.”

He ignored me as he led me to the bathroom. “Stop being a brat and let me help you.”

“Oh, I’m a brat? How nice.” I nudged him away from me as I entered the bathroom.

“The most gorgeous brat on the planet.” He smirked and retrieved a washcloth from a narrow linen cabinet. “Spunky and sassy, too. She turns me on with only a look and makes my heart race when I’m near her.”

“Sounds like she’s not good for your health.” I let him clean my face, which was sweet. But I wasn’t a child and could do it myself.

“That’s where you’re wrong. She’s the reason I rise in the morning. No matter what’s happening in my life or how many patients I couldn’t save, she always knows what to say before I fall into a dark pit of failure.”

I cut my eyes at him. “Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“It’s the truth, Mercy. You stabilize me. So imagine the darkness I’d been in the past few months without you.”

“Brady, I didn’t know.”

“I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone.” He stripped down to his boxers, then removed my clothes, leaving me in my panties and bra. His warm touch made goose bumps cover my body. “I love you, Mercy.”

“I’m beginning to believe you.”

He lifted me into his arms again and carried me into the living room. He lowered onto his knees in front of the fireplace and laid me on the fur rug. Covering me with his muscular body, he captured my lips.

I kissed him back, desperate for anything he wanted to give me. “Please, Brady.”

“Please what?”

“Please give me your dick.”

“This one?” He buried himself between my thighs.

“Yes!” I bucked against his iron rod, pleased he was as affected as me. In the two years I’d been fooling around with Brady, we’d never spoken as much as we have today. It may sound weird, but I loved him despite knowing very little about each other. How could I not have grown attached, when I’d shared my body with him dozens of times?

“Then take it, sweetheart. My cock is yours so long as your pussy is mine.” He kissed me hard before I could argue with him. However, he didn’t know I would agree.

I tugged at his boxers until they slipped below his round, firm ass. He lifted his hips to allow me to lower my panties, but I struggled a little. Stupid extra weight. For an average-height woman, there weren’t a lot of places to pack on twenty pounds. Plus, I was short-waisted, and fat loved to attach itself to my middle like the jolly old man dressed in red.

“Babe, I can’t get my panties off,” I told Brady in frustration. Why hadn’t I bought new ones, ones that fit? Well, it wasn’t like I’d been given much time to prepare for a weekend away with the man I was afraid to live without.

“Let me…” He rose to his knees and tore my satin red bottoms off me. The sound of satin ripping and the lustful swipe of his tongue along his bottom lip nearly made me come. God, I couldn’t get enough of the way he ogled my body, like he didn’t give two fucks that I’d gained weight. “So fucking beautiful.”

Right there, he’d confirmed my thoughts. Brady had always treated me like he couldn’t get enough of me, and he wasn’t acting any differently.

“Don’t tell me you can’t see how I’ve changed. And you better replace my bikinis,” I said teasingly. How could I ask him if he’d noticed? I wasn’t usually insecure, but it had been months since we’d been naked together. He’d have to be blind as a bat to not notice I was pudgy in the middle and my thighs were thicker and my ass was rounder… And, and, and…

Stop freaking out. If he didn’t want you, you wouldn’t be here. True!

“Don’t tell me you aren’t perfect when you know you are. Perfect for me.” He waggled his brows. “And you don’t need any underwear. They just get in the way.”

“Do they?” I asked in a flirty tone.

“For the duration of our getaway, you aren’t allowed to wear panties. I might not let you wear clothes at all.” He glided his hands against my inner thighs, kneading my flesh, and almost touching my hot, throbbing center with the tips of his fingers.

“So bossy. I love it, but I’m overheating. I’m going to start sweating any second.” And I was getting wetter and wetter.

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