by Zoe Chant
“I don’t know, Mercy,” Dante said eventually. “Maybe they wouldn’t understand right away. But nothing about this changes who you are – what you’ve done for them.” He paused, and Mercy felt him shift next to her. “Nothing about this changes anything. You’re still strong. You’re still capable. I still mean it when I say I’ve never met anyone as dedicated or as brave as you.”
His words pierced her heart. “How can you mean that?”
“Of course I mean it.” Dante’s response was immediate. “Just today you’ve stood up to a gangster, you’ve fed kids who maybe wouldn’t eat otherwise, and you’ve spent your day running from place to place organizing people for a fundraising opportunity. That’s just today, Mercy. I might have only known you for a short time, but I know who you are. I’ve seen everything I need to know.”
Mercy licked her lips, looking up into his face. His expression was serious – and his eyes, beautiful and emerald green, seemed almost luminescent as he gazed down at her.
“I – thank you,” she managed to get out. And she meant it. She wasn’t sure why, but Dante’s words and expression left no room for doubt in her mind that he meant what he said. Against his certainty, the small voice within her that told her he’d think she was weak and useless crumpled up and died. How does he know just what to say?
A small smile quirked at the corner of Dante’s mouth. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never been very good at accepting help myself,” he said. “I’ve rejected it when I should have taken it. I wish I’d had someone to talk some sense into me then.”
Mercy couldn’t stop herself from laughing a little, feeling a lightness come into her heart. She was so overwhelmed by it that she didn’t even stop to think that she hadn’t voiced her question aloud. “So that’s what you’re doing, then – talking some sense into me?”
“If that’s what telling you just how amazing you are is, then I guess I am,” Dante said. “As long as you believe it.”
Mercy took a long, deep breath. “I do.”
She was surprised to find she meant it. Or at least, she believed that Dante meant it. He said it with such confidence, his eyes looking down into hers with total certainty. And when he did, it was hard for her not to find just a tiniest sliver of belief in her own heart, too. She had always had trouble believing that she was doing enough, being enough, even when she felt that she was running herself ragged. But even so, she knew she couldn’t do everything.
Accepting that fact... well, that was harder.
But looking up into Dante’s eyes now, Mercy wondered if she might finally feel strong enough to admit that sometimes, she needed help – she needed to let go.
Her heart was no longer beating wildly in her chest, and the feeling that she had cold concrete filling her stomach began to dissipate. She could unclench her hands.
“Good.” Dante’s tone held a note of finality. “Because it’s true. You are strong, Mercy. Maybe the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
It wasn’t until she felt the soft, warm puff of his breath on her cheek that Mercy realized just how close they had drifted together.
When did that happen? she thought dazedly as she looked up into his eyes, gazing intensely down into her own.
Mercy felt the last of her panic attack melting away, a different feeling altogether settling in her stomach. Dante’s proximity to her made her heart hammer in her chest, but this time, it was a pleasant feeling. It was a beating of excitement and anticipation, rather than one of dread.
God, I want to kiss him.
She’d felt that way almost since the very first moment she’d laid eyes on him, of course – after she’d made sure he wasn’t about to bleed to death in her kitchen. Her powerful attraction to him hadn’t abated. If anything, it had grown stronger the more time she’d spent with him. Sure, he was hot – anyone with eyes could see that. He was tall and broad and muscular, and his green eyes and dark hair made for a striking combination. His air of unbound masculinity made her mouth water. But he was also kind, supportive, and protective. He’d done more for her than she ever could have dreamed of.
“Dante, I –” she began, but found that the part of her brain that was responsible for forming words or rational thoughts had fled. The only thought in her head now was Fuck, I want him so much.
And even that was wiped out as Dante’s fingers touched her chin, tilting her face up to his – and then his lips came down to hers, sealing them together in a searing kiss.
If she’d been able to, Mercy would have gasped at the heat of his mouth on hers. The kiss was like nothing she’d ever felt before – intense and passionate, and utterly irresistible. It was just as well she was already sitting on the floor, she thought vaguely, because if she hadn’t been, her knees would have buckled beneath her.
She opened her mouth wider as Dante deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup her jaw, his callused thumbs stroking over her cheeks. Mercy found herself helpless under his touch. Her life had been so taken up by work that she had never found much time for romance after she’d graduated from high school, but even with the few partners she’d had since then, Mercy had found it difficult to let herself go. Letting go had meant being vulnerable and opening herself up to another person: something she had never found easy.
But with Dante, it seemed like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.
She groaned as she felt the heat of Dante’s body against hers, tilting her head back and raising her arms to pull him closer to her. She filled her hands with the hard muscle of his shoulders, marveling at the warmth of his skin through his t-shirt. She wanted nothing more than to yank the fabric right off his body and feel his skin against hers.
Mercy pulled back slightly, surfacing from the kiss and gasping for breath.
“Mercy.” Dante’s voice was little more than a low rumble in his chest, and she shivered at the sound, heat pooling low in her belly. She could already feel that she was soaking wet between her thighs. With just a kiss, Dante had her more worked up than she had been in years.
“I want you,” she whispered, raising her hand to Dante’s face. He returned her gaze, the smoldering heat in his eyes almost unbearable.
“Mercy – there’s something –”
Mercy only shook her head. “Save it. I don’t want to talk right now. I just – I just want –”
Dante seemed to understand her half-worded wish. His lips came down to hers again, recapturing them in another blazing kiss.
Yes, was the only thing Mercy could think as he kissed her. Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Everything about the kiss felt completely and utterly right. But still, she wanted more.
Guided only by instinct, Mercy skimmed her hands down Dante’s sides, feeling the dips and grooves of his muscle. She found the bottom edge of his t-shirt, pulling it up. Dante’s hands were doing the same with her own shirt. He broke the kiss only long enough for him to yank it up over her head and toss it aside, before his lips were back on hers once more.
She felt something warm pressing against her skin and pulled back a little, her eyes darting to the flash of gold against his chest.
It was a small pendant – or an amulet, she supposed – hanging on a golden chain around his neck. It was small and simple, but it was beautiful. She hadn’t noticed it before, hidden as it was beneath his t-shirt.
“Do you like it?” he asked, as Mercy, as if guided by instinct, raised her hand to touch it.
“It’s lovely,” she said truthfully. “I guess I just didn’t figure you for the jewelry-wearing type.”
“It’s... a family thing,” Dante said, his voice low. “I was found with it as a baby. The only thing I had to remember my parents by.”
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Mercy said at once, eyes going to his face. “I didn’t know.”
Dante just shook his head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it – I got used to it a long time ago. But I always wear this. It reminds me of who I am. Who I really am.”
&nbs
p; Mercy swallowed, nodding. “I’m glad you have something from your parents,” she said. Tentatively, she raised her hand again, running her fingers over the amulet’s lightly filigreed surface. It was warm beneath her touch – and, strangely enough, Mercy somehow thought she could feel a tingling in her fingers. It was almost the same sensation as she had felt when Dante’s skin had touched hers for the first time, the other night in the kitchen...
He looked down at her, as if searching her eyes for the answer to some question he hadn’t asked her aloud. But whatever he saw there, he apparently found what he was looking for, and leaned down to kiss her once more.
They continued to kiss fervently as they fumbled with the rest of each other’s clothes. Mercy gasped as Dante’s fingers found the buttons of her jeans, opening them up and sliding them down her thighs.
She cried out as his fingers brushed against her skin – even that light touch was enough to send a wave of pleasure through her. Her hands flew to the fly of his jeans. Mercy swallowed heavily as she took in the sizeable bulge between his thighs, her mouth watering.
Everything was a blur as the last of their clothes came off. Mercy cried out once more as Dante’s mouth dipped to her breasts, taking a sensitive nipple gently between his teeth. She clutched at his back as he teased her, his tongue rolling over her peaking flesh.
Never before had Mercy felt so unbound as she did right now. She had always had someone relying on her. Even when she’d been young, she’d never felt young – she’d virtually raised herself, since her parents were so unreliable, regulating her own study hours and holding down a part-time job just as soon as she’d reached working age. Even her high school relationship with Roy had been one of regularity and restraint. And ever since she’d graduated, she’d worked, and worked, and worked.
She had realized at some point that she was heading for burnout, but even knowing that, Mercy hadn’t been able to make herself slow down or ask for help. She’d never been able to let herself rely on another person.
But now...
The thoughts that had started to crowd her mind gave way to a rush of pleasure as Dante’s big, callused hand slid over her thigh, over her hip, to the curve of her buttock. He pulled her forward onto his lap, his mouth once again locked on hers.
She moved forward, straddling his hips, gasping into his mouth as she felt the massive hardness of his erection rising between them.
“Mercy,” Dante said in a hoarse whisper, breaking the kiss. He looked at her, his eyes seeming to drink her in. “God, you are so beautiful.”
Ordinarily, Mercy might have felt cynical about a man’s declaration of her beauty. But when Dante said it, there was no room for doubt. The truth of his words swelled her heart, and only increased her desire for him – something that, five seconds ago, she wouldn’t have thought was even possible.
She closed her eyes as he lowered his head to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing gently over the pulse in her throat, his fingers playing over her skin and making her shiver.
Despite his massive size and obvious strength, he was gentle with her as he touched her, his hands and lips reverent as they sent spirals of pleasure coursing through her. Ordinarily, she would have wanted to stay like this forever, shivering and moaning beneath his touch. But now, Mercy knew she couldn’t wait. She wanted him desperately – wanted to feel him inside her, filling her up to the brim.
Mercy found herself on her back, Dante covering her body with his own. It was as if he had read her mind, and knew instinctively what she wanted.
“God, Dante – please – I need you –” she gasped out, unable to wait even one second longer.
And Dante didn’t make her.
He pushed into her at once, his massive cock sliding into her easily. Even as big as he was, she was so wet, so ready for him that they fit together perfectly. Mercy cried out in pure ecstasy as she felt him within her at last, her fingernails digging into his back, her legs squeezing his hips, urging him to move.
Dante groaned as he made his first thrust, his voice low and deep, emerging from his mouth as little more than a growl. The noise turned her on more than she could say – she’d seen Dante fight, and she knew how dangerous he could be when he wanted to be. He was clearly built for fighting, and he’d done a lot of it – his muscles and his scars were testament to that. But the hands and body that had been used to inflict pain on the men who had come after her were now working only to give her pleasure, sending wave upon wave of it through her every time he moved.
Need burned within her. Mercy could feel her climax beginning to build. Dante’s every thrust sent her closer and closer to the edge.
“Mercy.”
She cried out as he said her name, throwing her head back in pure pleasure, letting herself go for the first time in years – perhaps, truly, for the first time ever.
Stars spun behind her eyes as at last she felt her orgasm explode within her, shaking her down to her very core. Never before had she felt like this. Never before had she heard her own voice cry out in pleasure the way she was now, feeling wave after wave of white-hot ecstasy coursing through her body. She felt Dante’s own body shaking with his release, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her even more completely – something she hadn’t imagined possible. He held her as the shocks of his own climax shuddered through him, his breath warm against her face, his fingers pressing hard against her skin.
They lay together breathlessly, coasting down from the peak of their pleasure, bodies tangled. Mercy didn’t know how long it took her to catch her breath – and to be honest, she couldn’t say she cared. In a perfect world, she would have lain there forever, feeling the weight of Dante’s body against hers.
Finally, however, she admitted the need to move – if for no other reason than because she risked her leg falling asleep if she didn’t shift it.
“Hey.”
Dante lifted his head at the sound of her voice, looking down at her. He raised his hand to her face as he moved off her, stroking his thumb across her cheek.
“Mercy, that was... that was....”
His voice was low and rumbly, and Mercy swallowed. She felt renewed heat pooling within her at the sound, despite her fatigue.
“You don’t need to tell me,” she said, laughing lightly. “That was incredible.”
“Yeah. Incredible just about covers it.”
He leaned down, kissing her deeply, and Mercy allowed herself to be swept away by the feel of his tongue against hers, the warmth of his lips where they pressed against her own.
“Should we get up and maybe get something to eat?” Dante asked when he finally broke away, his hand still resting against her cheek.
Mercy laughed. “Oh, probably. But honestly, I don’t want to move an inch right now. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She snuggled against his side, enjoying the feeling of his skin against hers. For a moment, she felt Dante tense slightly, before he too relaxed.
“You must be exhausted,” he said softly.
Mercy nodded sleepily. The long day and the panic attack had definitely taken their toll, even if now she could barely remember them – Dante’s touch had unwound all the tension in her body completely, leaving her more relaxed than she could remember feeling in years. Here in Dante’s arms, she felt safe, protected, and warm.
“Sleep now,” Dante said. “Just relax. You deserve it.”
Mercy wanted to say thank you – she wasn’t sure what specifically she wanted to thank him for, only that she wanted to say it. But before she could open her mouth, she felt tiredness well up within her, and, yawning once more, she drifted off into deep, untroubled sleep.
***
Mercy woke slowly, savoring the feeling of gradually surfacing into the real world.
It’d been a long time since she’d felt this way – usually, waking up meant the screech of the alarm, rubbing her sore, still-tired eyes, and groaning as she forced her aching muscles to move her out from under her warm covers and t
oward the shower.
Today, however, she felt only the delicious sense of finally having gotten a good night’s sleep.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well or so deeply – and she definitely hadn’t woken up feeling so good in years. The warmth of Dante’s body beside her in the bed made her smile before she’d even opened her eyes to look at him. The solidity of his presence beside her was enough.
The sunshine glimmering on the wall when she finally did open her eyes made her heart lurch a little within her – until she remembered it was Friday, and Mercy’s Kitchen wasn’t open for breakfast on Fridays. It was the one day a week she let herself have a small sleep-in. Tai wouldn’t be arriving for work for another three hours, and she didn’t need to spring out of bed for at least another ten minutes.
Smiling, Mercy let her eyes slide shut once more, glorying in the way all her muscles felt relaxed, the tight spring of tension that always seemed coiled in her belly finally having been released.
“You awake, Mercy?”
Dante’s voice was soft, the touch of his hand against her cheek even softer.
“Mmmm.”
Mercy rolled over, finding his mouth with her own and kissing him deeply. She remembered vaguely that she’d fallen asleep on the floor last night, too satisfied and tired even to move to the bed – but that was where she was now. Dante must have picked her up and carried her there.
The thought sent more warmth flowing through her.
God, he’s perfect.
As Dante’s arms came up around her shoulders, Mercy had the thought that she’d be happy to stay in bed for a lot longer than ten minutes – until the loud grumble of her stomach interrupted them.
“Sounds like you could use something to eat,” Dante said, pulling back with a laugh.
Ordinarily, Mercy might have felt a little embarrassed by the gurgling noises emanating from her stomach, but with Dante, she just couldn’t find it within herself to care.