MERCY

by KC Decker

  I move the rolled-up, purely for decoration, towels from the back ledge of the tub, and set the tray there, so it’s within easy reach. Then I remember my roses and decide to go get them as well. Maybe they will add some sophistication to the grown woman splashing around in the tub.

  When I come back, Sutton has dimmed the lights and lit some candles, adding yet another layer of sophistication to the mountain of bubbles forming a stadium dome over the tub.

  “Oooo, so romantic,” I say, as I reach for my new, blue electric toothbrush.

  “Yes, apparently we’ve frog-leaped over the first date, and headed straight for a sensual bubble bath,” he says as he comes up behind me, brushes my hair back from my neck with his fingers, and then kisses me right beneath my ear. It’s hot enough to make me brush my teeth faster.

  As I’m rinsing my mouth and spitting into the sink, Sutton slides his palms down my hips and thighs, effectively pushing my skirt down my legs. I turn around into his kiss, but when I try to slide his pants down, he moves my hands to his chest and whispers, “Slow down, baby.”

  I want to tell him twenty-one years is slow, but I’m distracted by his sculpted chest and his illustrious mouth.

  When he lifts my naked butt to the bathroom counter and peels off my shirt in almost the same motion, he demonstrates his authority, as well as successfully accelerating the pace. He looks appreciatively at my pretty, lace bra for all of a second, then that’s gone too.

  His hands go immediately to my breasts, where he thumbs my nipples back and forth and effectively drives me crazy. The sensation is creating a lit path to every erogenous zone on my body.

  “I love it when you play with my nipples, it feels so good,” I say as I lean back on my hands and totally submit to his skilled touch.

  “Do you like it rough?” he asks, as he leans down and sucks a nipple aggressively into his mouth while he twists and boldly flicks the other one.

  My answer is a throaty moan and a five-alarm dampening between my legs. He has yet to relent, so my head rolls back in erotic bliss. When he pulls back, he brings my nipple with him until it releases with an audible pop.

  Next, he pulls a rose out of the vase next to me, and then grazes the soft petals lightly across my humming nipples. After the ticklish touch brings me to the edge of lunacy, he casually drags the rose down my cleavage, over my abdomen, and between my legs.

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” he asks as he rolls the petals back and forth over my clit a few times before slapping it harshly with the rose.

  “Aaaahhhhh, you’re gonna make me come,” I warn as the wave approaches. He pulls me forward, where he places his hand on the side of my neck in a possessive way, and then kisses me—also, in a very possessive way.

  While we kiss, he toes off his shoes, and undoes his pants, shoving them down his legs in one smooth motion. My shoes are next, but he has to unbuckle them, so he breaks our kiss. It also gives me a chance to take in his huge penis. It’s hard as stone and swaying in a taunting manner.

  I don’t remember anything about the evil penis that ripped through my innocence when I was a kid, only the searing, burning pain it caused. I’m a woman now, but I can vividly remember the agony. I would be lying if I said I was excited to be penetrated by the huge, veiny mast in front of me.

  “Hey, is everything ok?” Sutton asks as he cups my jaw in his hands. It’s clear he reads something on my face, something that I can’t hide from.

  “I’m feeling a little triggered right now,” I say. It’s the catch-all preamble that I’ve learned to use when I’ve identified a spike in my anxiety.

  “Ok, let’s talk about it,” he says as he pulls his pants back up his legs. He doesn’t fasten them, so they hang open, and I can still see the root of his cock. Covered like that, with just a peek showing, it’s back to looking sexy, and I feel a little silly for saying anything. He covers me with a towel and then sits on the edge of the tub.

  “Just because you fired me doesn’t mean we aren’t going to work through this the same as everything else.”

  I hop off the counter and wrap the towel around me before I take a seat next to him on the edge of the tub. “I suddenly was afraid that sex with you would hurt, that’s all,” I explain as I place my palm against his cheek. I know he can’t turn off the doctor instinct, but I want to kiss him just the same.

  “Mercy, I would never hurt you.”

  “Not on purpose, but that huge thing is going to hurt.”

  “Did it hurt earlier today in my office?”

  “No,” then a smile curls my lips, “In fact, I seem to remember begging for it.”

  “Did my fingers hurt you?” he asks, just as serious as ever.

  “They didn’t hurt, it was more like a stretch.”

  “Mercy, I can promise you this, we will not take that step until you are ready. You mean everything to me. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  His words are the tenderest words I’ve ever heard spoken. My response to them gets stuck in my throat, but I straddle his lap and bring my lips down on his poetic mouth anyway.

  After a few minutes, he pulls back and says, “How about you take your bubble bath, and I will go make dinner—I mean, something besides Nutella and toast.”

  “NO,” I say emphatically, “I want us to get in together…and I want to kiss you all over,” I throw in for good measure as I drop my towel.

  When we get in, the bubbles have receded by half, and we need to add more hot water. The tub is big enough that we can sit facing each other with my legs draped over his thighs.

  “This is luxurious,” I say as I lean my head back and feel all my muscles relax at once. Sutton takes one of my feet and begins to massage it. “Now, it’s even better.”

  A few quiet, reflective minutes pass, but then I get bored relaxing, and say, “Tell me about your family…and your childhood…no, tell me what made you want to be a psychiatrist.”

  “Actually, I can tell you about all of that because it’s all intertwined,” he says as he sits up a little more, showcasing his lickable chest. I want to know everything about him, and I’m excited to be the one listening for once.

  “I grew up in Alaska. My great-grandfather inherited over fifty acres from a family friend who died with no heirs. It’s a lot of land, but it’s pretty remote so we needed a seaplane to get anywhere.”

  “That is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. Go on,” I press. It’s hard not to ask him a hundred questions, but I resist.

  “We lived off the land, had an out-house, chopped wood—the whole nine yards. My brother, Dominic and I were really close in age. And besides our parents, there wasn’t another soul for miles, so we did everything together.”

  “That’s really sweet. Who’s older? You or Dominic?”

  “Dominic, but I was always bigger than him,” he smiles, but the ghost of something passes over his face. “Anyway, when Dominic was about fifteen, he started talking about seeing demons.”

  I mouth a silent, “No.”

  “Yeah. We were homeschooled, but that didn’t stop me from reading everything I could get my hands on about psych disorders. I became obsessed with helping him. When I was eighteen, I moved to Anchorage for my undergrad but I still wasn’t convinced I was doing enough, so I pushed and pushed myself. Eventually, it paid off because I was accepted to Johns Hopkins for medical school.”

  “Do you even know how amazing you are?” I ask with stars in my eyes. He scoffs, and that’s when I know this story doesn’t have a happy ending. He has stopped rubbing my foot, and he has a faraway look in his eyes, the final two nails in the coffin for the story’s outcome.

  “Dominic hung himself during my first year of residency.”

  Oh, my God!

  I scoot down, so I’m sitting on Sutton’s lap and clutching his body to mine. “I’m so sorry,” I say over and over as my heart bleeds out. I think about how much he helped Matty and Veronica—and me, everyone really. But none of i
t matters because he couldn’t save his own brother.

  I think of how he took me up the mountain to release balloons and a letter to my brother. What must he have been thinking? Surely about his own brother, right?

  “What would you say to him if you could?” I ask. It’s not balloons and a letter, but maybe he has some words left unsaid too.

  “I would say, hang on buddy, I’ve got you. I’ll fix this, just hang on.” Sutton tightens his arms around me, and I can feel his pain. Both of us were powerless to save our brothers, and we are both condemned to carry around that guilt forever.

  “I feel him with me all the time,” he says with tears in his eyes, but a smile on his face. “I can hear his voice sometimes. It’s in my head, but not my own thoughts,” he chuckles, “Now I sound like a paranoid schizophrenic.”

  “I don’t think so. You sound like someone who had an incredibly close bond with your brother.” I lean in to kiss him, and I can feel his dick start to stir.

  “What types of things do you hear him say?” I ask.

  “Just random stuff, nothing profound. It’s almost like my brain is filling in things that he would say…but that I’m not thinking about. Like when you sat down in my office the first time, he said, take it easy with this one.”

  “He did! About me? So, you hear him all the time?”

  “No, no. Not at all, only three times in total. It makes me feel better though, like he’s letting me know he’s ok.”

  “I love that one of those times was about me! What do you think he meant?”

  “I think he knew you were special.”

  “Awwwww, and that you would help me,” I say as I wiggle on his lap a little, drawing even more interest from his penis.

  “Mercy, I’ve helped a lot of patients over the years, but I’ve never fallen in love with one of them before.”

  I sit back, processing. Did he just…

  “Does that surprise you? That I’m in love with you?”

  “I…it…,” I attempt to speak, but my voice is restricted. I put my hand on my chest to slow my galloping heart. “It…it takes my breath away,” I finally get out, in a woosh of air.

  “Ok, good. I’m fine with that reaction,” he laughs, and then leans forward and bites down on my bottom lip, tugging me forward and sliding his body deeper into the water.

  “Close your mouth, though, or you’ll catch flies.”

  We kiss for a long time while I absolutely bask in the glow of his words. I love him too, but I don’t just want to say it because he will think I’m only saying it because he did. I have to show him.

  “Sutton, show me how you like it…I don’t want to do it wrong.” I see his jaw tick before I realize I never mentioned giving him head. He must know what I’m talking about because he slides a finger into my mouth and gently moves it in and out while I suck. Then he pulls his finger out and swipes it around my lips before sliding it back in.

  “That’s so hot. You’re not going to do it wrong,” he says as I sit up on my knees so he can rise to the edge of the tub. My girlfriends have walked me through this process more times than I’m entirely comfortable admitting. So, I know how to do it, but the fact that it is Sutton fills me with a little bit of awe.

  I slide my mouth down his length, and it quickly becomes apparent why Lyla and V said to use my hand too. A year ago, I would have rather choked on my own vomit than put a man’s dick in my mouth, but now? Now I fucking love it, and his reaction to my sucking mouth is only fueling the fire.

  “Yes, baby. Just like that. Ohhh.” His panting groan gives me more confidence, and I take him deeper, pushing him to the back of my throat and then up again.

  I employ some of V’s advanced tactics around the crown of his head, eliciting a fuck yeah, and a damn, Mercy, before I go back to the basics of worshiping his cock.

  When he pulls out of my mouth and shoots pulse after pulse of warm cum on my neck and chest, I’m a tiny bit disappointed he didn’t do it in my mouth. Lyla absolutely never lets guys come in her mouth; Veronica always does. I was going to be the tiebreaker, and I still don’t know if I like it or not.

  “That was amazing, sweetheart, you were perfect,” he says to further boost my confidence as he gets back in the tub long enough to wipe his cum off of me like a gentleman. But when he starts to get out of the tub, I stop him.

  “Wait. What about the snacks?”

  He eases back in and slides me forward onto his lap. While he kisses me, he slips his hand through the back of my hair and tugs my head back while he kisses and nibbles on my neck.

  “I’m taking you out for real food. Not Nutella and RedBull,” he says as a hand finds my breast again.

  “But I worked really hard on that,” I tease.

  “You’re right.” Then he grabs a piece of Nutella toast and drags it across both tits, scraping the rough toast over both nipples and sending them to a scratchy Nutella party.

  Then he proceeds to lick and suck the chocolate off in such a way that I can feel the beginning tingles of an orgasm starting to bubble to life. With a few more playful flicks and a mischievous grin as he gently bites down, he asks, “Still hungry?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good, let’s dry off and go eat.”

  “But I am kind of thirsty.”

  “Oh, good. Me too,” he says as he cracks open a can of RedBull and pours the icy drink all over my boobs, before diving in to quench his thirst. The fizzy liquid makes my nipples throb and tingle at the same time, but his follow-up performance makes them purr.

  Chapter 40

  Sutton took me out for Sushi, which I loved despite how I initially felt about eating raw fish. I wanted to try everything, which made him beam with a look I’ve come to recognize as one of sexy, rugged pride. Saki, I am not a fan of, but that suits me just fine because I didn’t want to get all giggly like I did the other night anyway.

  Now, it’s late, and Sutton has to work tomorrow, so I’m starting to think all the flirting we did at dinner has led us to a dead end. He kills the mood even more by making a doctor type of observation.

  “It’s been a few days since you’ve had a nightmare. I feel really good about your anti-anxiety medication right now. This dosage seems to take the edge off while still letting you process your feelings.”

  “Wow, this evening certainly has taken a clinical turn in vastly the wrong direction,” I deadpan.

  He scoops me up and carries me to the bedroom, “Quick, Mercy! Before I take your blood-pressure…or something else doctorly!” He tosses me on the bed and then straddles my body with his hands on the comforter by each of my shoulders. Then he pins me with a stare, which is really sexy because I like this dominant side.

  “Seriously, though, don’t let your new doctor make any changes without running it by me first, ok?”

  “Ugh! Didn’t I fire your ass?”

  “As I keep saying, it’s all about perception,” he grins. I try to scowl back at him, but he is too perfect, so I grab his face and kiss him instead.

  “I love you, Sutton,” I say against his lips, making it part of our kiss.

  He opens his eyes but keeps his lips frozen in place, still touching mine. Then he blinks and says, “What did you just say?” without removing his lips.

  “I said, I love you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says with a giant smile.

  “Hold it, does that mean I have to start calling you, Travis now? It doesn’t have the same ring to it that Sutton does.”

  “As long as you don’t call me doctor—oh, wait…you’ve never called me doctor, so that’s really a non-issue, I guess. Now, take your clothes off.”

  “Oooo, is it time for you to tuck me into bed, doctor?”

  “If you’re into role-playing, I’d really prefer to be a firefighter,” he says as he whips the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but black lace panties.

  I help him remove his shirt then he finishes undressing on the way to turn off the light.
When he comes back to bed, he kisses me the way everyone dreams about being kissed—aaaand then he slips his hand in my panties.

  He rubs my clit until I’m moaning into our kiss and fisting his hair, then he presses his finger through my wetness and enters me. Slowly at first, then not so slowly.

  His thrusting finger is trying to lessen the building pressure I feel, but it’s not enough, so I whimper, more, and he pushes another finger in. By this point, I’m dizzy with something that feels a lot like desperation.

  He slides his fingers out of me, and then brushes the wetness across my mouth, before kissing me again. His patience for my panties runs out at the same time, so he works them down my legs with the same skilled fingers that just introduced me to my own taste.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice scratchy with restraint.

  “I want everything.”

  “Do you want my tongue?”

  “I want all of you, Sutton. Please.”

  He hesitates like he is going to say I’m not ready, but then he reaches into the nightstand and retrieves a condom. I’ve fantasized about this with him for a long time, so much so that I’m trembling with need.

  “Let me taste you before I put it on,” he says as he slowly strokes his cock. He doesn’t wait for a response before spreading my legs. Soon enough, they are shaking.

  Before I’ve even come down from my orgasm, I feel him place the slick head of his cock at my entrance. He doesn’t really enter me, it’s more like he is notching it in place. Then his fingers are brushing a few strands of hair from my cheek, and his sweet face is inches from mine.

  “I love you, Mercy. I want to give you everything. Not just me, I want to give you the world.”

  “You already have.”

  His kiss is so tender, I feel like I could crack apart. It really does feel like he has already given me the world. He took my past and made it manageable. He allowed me to own what happened so I could learn to leave it behind, and he never made me feel like something was wrong with me. He accepted me when my soul was broken, and then he showed me it was possible to heal.