Chapter 95: 95. Transitioning XII
Maisie
My legs dangled from the kitchen island as I licked the last bit of cream from my fingertips.
The rest of the examination had passed without much incident. Memah kept preening over me, asking the Lycans question after question about my ’newly-found’ abilities, and even I knew from the bright, excited sheen in her eyes that I was something unusual.
Something she had never seen before.
They had refrained from answering any of her questions, but she still jotted down in her little book, held out a torch in front of my eyes, checked my pulse, my teeth and my nails until I’d snarled at her and left the sitting room.
I found right here. In the kitchen. Pacing. Trembling.
I was angry. Though, I didn’t remember why I was angry. It was right there, if I could just reach for it. But everytime I reached for my rational self, she slipped from my fingers, and I felt too drained to chase after her.
What was the use remembering? I liked it here. I was sated. I was cared for. Remembering made things difficult. Waking up would make everything difficult. I wanted it to remain this way, where I didn’t have to think for myself.
Though, I knew it wouldn’t be long anymore. And that frightened me.
In the coming days, I would wonder when exactly, I returned to my senses. On that couch with Memah, or in this moment with Mercer, watching him watch me. I would wonder if I wanted to return to reality. And I would hate myself because Maisie Adams had never been a very good liar.
Even to herself.
Mercer’s dark green gaze tracked me as I slid off the counter and sauntered over to where he stood by the island.
Like every one of them, it took tipping my head to look in his eyes. He had his cellphone to his ear and though he was speaking clearly enough for me to listen in on his conversation, I found that I didn’t care for it.
I reached for his belt buckle.
His eyes narrowed on me, but he didn’t stop me. My heart banged in my chest and lust flared hot in my blood as I popped the top button of his jeans.
He kept his gaze on me. Where my fingers tugged down his zipper. His nostrils flared but he didn’t speak to me or acknowledge anything else.
My hearing picked up on a female voice on the other end of the phone. "Really, Koen. I can’t get you information like that for free. If the Hunts find out, they’ll have me killed."
I slipped my hand into his briefs and a deep grunt rolled in his throat. "Your price."
His voice was rougher. I wrapped my fingers around him and pumped once. He hissed sharply. He was so hot, so heavy, so hard in my grasp.
"You know what I want, Koen."
"No can do," he said. He sounded angry, but I knew he wasn’t. I discovered as I began undoing the buttons of the shirt he’d out on me that Mercer also sound pissed off when he was hard. "I’m very married," he added, eyes dropping to my now bare chest.
His gaze narrowed again on my hardened nipples. His nostrils flared.
I ran my hand down the length of my torso, hooking my fingers in my shorts and rolling it down my hip until it fell to the ground at my feet.
His eyes flashed as I lowered myself to my knees between his legs and glanced up at him with wide eyes.
The woman on the phone laughed again. "When has that ever stopped any of you before?"
But I didn’t think Mercer heard her.
I released a sharp breath, feeling the drag of his stare like phantom hands on my skin, and my teeth sank into my bottom lip to stifle a moan.
I had to be quiet. The attorney was on the other side of the door with the others. I had to be a good girl. Mercer liked that.
I was going to get him where I wanted him. Right now. Lust was. And he was an animal just like me.
His grip on the phone tightened, knuckles white with tension, but he didn’t move. His were glued to me as I spread my thighs as far apart as they could go. A draft of air cooled the trickle of wetness rolling down my skin.
"Koen?" the woman asked, but her voice became a distant hum. A bother. Unimportant.
My middle and index fingers scissor my clitoris, running down to my slippery entrance and back, and my hips bucked from the sensitivity.
He jerked his gaze away, breathing hard. "No," he grunted.
But we both knew he was talking to me and not Sasha. Because he didn’t last one second before flicking his gaze back to me.
I pushed in another finger and it glided in easily, offering no resistance. I was soaked. My fingers might have been too slim, too small to reach where I want it to, but his razor sharp focus on my core did more than enough for reach.
I release my bottom lip, intent on moaning loud enough to be heard both outside and by the recipient of his call when he spoke harshly into the receiver, "Answer’s still no. I’ll expect your invoice. Or not. I can get someone else to get the job done."
He tossed the phone aside, eyes tracking the movement of my tongue over my bottom lip.
My chest rose and fell, my back arching as his hot stare lingered on my nipples. I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining his tongue scraping lightly against each taut, rosy bud as he sucked hard. I whimpered, a wet sound escaping my sex as I squeeze around two fingers.
"Look at me." It was soft, but I don’t mistake it for anything but what it is--an order.
My eyes snapped open, meeting with burning green before instinctively falling to his crotch. His hard length poked through his briefs, betraying the relaxed posture he was trying hard to to maintain.
My thighs shake as I imagined what it would feel like to have that thickness inside me.
The sound that ripped from my throat was filthy enough that the conversation on the other side of the door halted for a full second before picking up again.
But that didn’t stop my hips from rolling slowly, sexier, to meet the thrust of my fingers. The slick, squelching sounds fill the air as my juices run down my fingers.
Mercer didn’t watch me finger myself anymore. Neither did he look at my breasts. No. His gaze locked onto mine, studying every reaction, every nuance, every lock of hair that tickled my skin, locking in the memory of what my eyes looked like when I was wild with lust for him, how my breaths shallowed right before I sunk into my folds, feeling the velvet walls of my cunt.
His eyes swallowed every detail in what felt like a clinical stare, but was far from one. Those eyes of his should’ve belonged to the ruler of hell, because in them burned a furnace hotter than any on earth.
A knot formed in my abdomen, tightening with every squeeze, every hiss that parted from my lips, every bounce of my breasts and lick of the air on my aching nipples.
A sudden burst of euphoria exploded inside me and my eyelids fluttered close—
Don’t you dare look away from me."
My gaze travels to his, nearly glazing over as I rode out every wave of pleasure until I crashed down to earth.
Panting, I pulled out my sticky fingers, unsure what to do with them.
Silence fell, hiking the tension in the kitchen to new heights and I didn’t move from that spot, waiting.
After what felt like a full minute, Mercer began rolling his sleeves. "You are by far," he popped the top button of his shirt and the next. "the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. You win, Adams."
I smiled, pleased with myself.
The green of his eyes were dark. His chest heaved. He licked his lips. "Come here."
I crawled to him.
A harsh, amused laugh tore out of him as I stopped, rose on my knees and rubbed my face against his length.
"Not yet," he said darkly and I gasped when my ass hit the kitchen counter, sending the glass and silver ware clattering into the ground.
There was another pause outside, but I hardly cared for it.
Mercer’s body was a furnace. His skin burned hotter than mine and I didn’t know where to start touching him first.
He smelled so good, so clean, woodsy, spicy, sweet, masculine. My nose found the crook of his neck.
My blood thrummed and before I could stop myself, my hips shifted slightly, lifting to seek out his erection.
His eyelids lowered, almost imperceptibly, but I saw it before he could mask it. The heat in his gaze called to the dark creature inside me, pleading to let her come out to play.
I—we—willingly obliged.
