At His Mercy

My eyes snap open.

He’s right there, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching me fuck myself like a starving slut with his come still dripping down my legs.

Shock punches the air from my lungs. My fingers freeze inside me, but my pussy clenches hard around them anyway, betraying me with a fresh gush of wetness.

He smirks, slow and cruel.

“Keep going,” he says, stepping in and kicking the door shut behind him. “Show me how bad you need it when I’m not around.”

I can’t move. Can’t breathe. I’m trembling, exposed, ruined, and still so desperate I could cry.

He tilts his head, eyes black.

Is he..serious?

“I—I…”

“Shy, little mate?” 

Killian’s gaze drops to my trembling hand, then lower, to where my skirt is still bunched at my hips and everything is glistening.

“Put them back,” he says, low, calm, and dangerous.

I blink up at him, eyes wide and glassy. “W-what…?”

“You heard me.” He leans in, crowding me against the sink. “Put. Those fingers. Back inside you. Right now.”

I blink up at him, eyes huge, cheeks on fire. My voice comes out small, trembling, almost childlike.

“Here…?”

“You didn’t have a problem with it earlier.”

He’s on me before the words finish leaving my mouth.

One step and his body cages mine against the sink, heat and muscle and that dark, hungry stare pinning me in place.

His hand clamps around my wrist, dragging my trembling fingers straight back between my legs.

“Here,” he rasps, voice rough with lust, forcing two slick fingers deep inside me in one merciless push. 

“Ah!” 

I cry out, knees buckling.

“You think you get to touch my pussy without permission?”

His mouth is at my ear, voice low and dripping filth.

“Killian, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” He yanks my wrist higher, pinning it to my lower belly so my fingers stay buried deep, then shoves his own hand between my thighs.

Two rough fingers land on my clit, swollen and slick, and he starts rubbing, fast, vicious circles that make my hips jerk like I’ve been shocked.

“No, baby. Sorry doesn’t cut it.” His voice is pure lust. “You want to come calling your Alpha’s name? Then you come on my fingers while I punish this needy little clit.”

He rubs harder, merciless, the pressure brutal, perfect, unbearable. Every stroke sends lightning straight up my spine.

I scream, raw and broken, thighs clamping around his hand, but he forces them apart with his knee.

“Take it,” he snarls, teeth sinking into my shoulder. “Take every second of this until you’re crying and begging me to stop.”

I’m already there, tears pouring, body thrashing, clit throbbing so hard it hurts.

“Killian, please, I can’t—”

“You can and you will.” 

He grinds the heel of his palm down, rubbing faster, ruthless. 

“Come for me. Right now. Squirt all over your own hand while I rub this perfect clit raw. Show me how bad my needy girl needs her Alpha’s cock.”

He pinches again, rubs faster, and I shatter.

A raw, trembling whine tears out of me as I come hard, gushing over my fingers, down my thighs, shaking so violently he has to hold me up.

He doesn’t stop rubbing.

He keeps going, slow, cruel circles, drawing out every aftershock until I’m sobbing, drooling, boneless in his arms.

Only then does he pull my soaked fingers free, bring them to my lips, and paint my own mess across my tongue.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, voice thick with pride and hunger. “Now bend over the sink.”

I blink, dazed, mascara-streaked eyes trying to focus.

And I see us.

Me: lips swollen, cheeks flushed scarlet, drool shining on my chin, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any color left.

Him: towering behind me, shirt stretched tight across his chest, jaw clenched, eyes glowing feral gold.

Our gazes lock in the mirror.

My mouth opens on a stunned, breathless, “What…?”

He leans in, chest to my back, one hand splayed possessively over my lower belly, the other sliding down between my trembling thighs.

“I’m going to clean you up, baby.”

Then he drops to his knees behind me.

I watch in the mirror, wide-eyed, trembling, as his hands spread my cheeks and his tongue drags one long, hot, filthy stripe from my clit all the way up to my ass.

I jolt, a shocked gasp turning into a desperate whine.

He does it again.

And again.

Slow, worshipful licks, like he’s savoring every drop, like he’s addicted to the taste of me.

It’s too much and exactly what I need.

“Ah! …hah… please… hnnn~!”

I can’t stop.

He stops the slow licks.

He seals his mouth over my clit, hot, wet, tight, and sucks.

Hard.

A sharp, ruthless pull that yanks a scream-whine straight from my soul.

“TOO MUCH—TOO MUCH—PLEASE—AH! AH! AH!”

I’m babbling, crying, drooling, legs kicking uselessly, palms slapping the mirror.

He ignores every plea.

He sucks harder, tongue flicking in tight, vicious circles, then side-to-side, then up-down so fast it feels like a buzz saw on my clit.

“TOO MUCH TOO MUCH TOO MUCH—GONNA BREAK—PLEASE—AAAAHHH!”

I come screaming the words, squirting violently, thighs clamping around his head, whole body convulsing.

He still doesn’t stop.

He keeps that ruthless suction, keeps flicking through every pulsing wave, forcing the orgasm to keep going until my voice cracks into nothing but hoarse, broken whimpers.

“t-too… m-much… too much…”

I’m limp, twitching, tears and drool everywhere, barely able to breathe.

Only then does he ease off, just enough to let me sag against the sink.

My legs are jelly, my cunt is one throbbing heartbeat, and the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the tile is his arm locked around my hips.

I’m gasping, whimpering, drooling, making tiny, wrecked “hnn… hnn…” sounds that don’t even feel like mine anymore.

He stays on his knees behind me, hands gentle now, stroking my trembling thighs like I’m something precious.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he murmurs, voice suddenly soft, velvet-rough, the same mouth that just destroyed me now soothing me like I’m the most fragile thing he’s ever touched.

“I’ve got you. I’m going to take care of you.”

He presses a tender kiss to the inside of my shaking thigh, then another, higher, right where thigh meets pussy.

“I’m right here,” he whispers against my soaked skin, lips brushing my swollen folds so lightly I sob.

“Let me clean you up, sweetheart. Let me make it all better.”

Another feather-soft kiss, this one open-mouthed, right on my pulsing clit.

I jerk with a wrecked little cry, but he just tightens his arm, holding me steady.

“Shh, shh, I know, I know… just breathe. I’m going to kiss every hurt away.”

His tongue slips out, one slow, gentle, healing lick that somehow feels more intense than all the brutal sucking before it.

I sag harder, a fresh wave of tears spilling, because the tenderness after the storm is breaking me all over again.

He keeps murmuring, low and steady, between each careful, loving lick:

“I’ve got you… you’re safe… you were so perfect for me… let Alpha take care of his girl now…”

And I do.

I let go completely, melting into his arms, into his mouth, trusting him to catch every piece of me that just shattered.

Because right now, ruined and trembling and drooling, I’ve never felt more cherished in my life.