At His Mercy

by Shelly Bell

  The minute Chloe left, Isabella had broken down, her body wracked with sobs. She wasn’t sure how much time passed before the tears dried and the resignation set in. One minute the sun had been high above campus, and the next minute it was twilight.

  She hadn’t expected Tristan.

  But that’s who had burst through the tower door.

  Wearing jeans that molded to his thighs and a casual blue Henley, he didn’t look much older than the students he taught.

  Then again, tonight Professor Kelley was nowhere to be found. The man holding her, comforting her, demanding her to talk…that was all Tristan. Funny how she’d come to distinguish between his two personas. Both demanded respect and attention. But only Tristan used that deep and silky tone that made her toes curl and her heart race. Only Tristan had that gleam in his eyes, the one that promised a world of pleasure and pain and everything in between. Only Tristan called her Angel.

  He wanted to help her? She had to give up her power in order to claim it. That’s the only way she’d find the strength to fight.

  She took a step back from him, breaking out of his arms. “There is something you can do for me.”

  “Anything.”

  She hoped he meant that.

  “Dominate me.”

  The color of Tristan’s eyes changed, the blue in them darkening to the color of a stormy night. Blond stubble lined the sharp angle of his jaw. Memories swamped her, memories of how his stubble felt rubbing the skin of her thighs as his tongue had circled the bud of her clitoris.

  Her panties dampened and the only sound she could hear was the pounding of her heart. Time seemed to freeze as that magnetic pull between them strengthened, leaving her helpless to its lure.

  He curled his fingers around her nape and eddied her away from the railing. “Be sure, Angel. Because once we do this, there’s no turning back.”

  “I’m sure. You’re the one who said we ‘wouldn’t’ do this again,” she said, reminding him of his words from the sidewalk.

  A smile tugged at his lips as he twirled her around and pushed her against the tower’s brick wall. “If I remember correctly, I said we ‘couldn’t’ do this again, not that we ‘wouldn’t.’”

  Swaying on her feet, she planted her palms on his chest. “If this happens, I need to know you’re in this for the long haul. That you’re not going to change your mind again.”

  “A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about kissing you,” he said hoarsely. “Fucking you.” He took a deep breath, his eyes growing hooded. “Dominating you.”

  A long moment passed as they stared into each other’s eyes.

  She licked her parched lips, moistening them, preparing them. “You could lose your job.”

  “You could be expelled.”

  “It’s unethical.”

  “Dangerous.”

  His mouth hovered only millimeters over hers. “We doing this?”

  She hooked her arms around his neck. “God yes.”

  And then his mouth slammed onto hers, stealing the air from her lungs. His lips, hot and rough, didn’t ask for permission or search for consent, but instead took and demanded. He plunged his hands into her hair, cradling her skull as though she’d bolt if he let go, and tilted her head, feasting on her mouth.

  Oh lord. Was the world spinning?

  He tore his lips away and pulled her toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  Her heart banged against her sternum, and suddenly, she was no longer cold. “Go where?”

  His smile was full of wicked promises. “Somewhere you can feel free to scream.”

  Fifteen

  It took less than ten minutes for them to walk to his apartment.

  Well, walked may have not been the right word.

  More like sprinted.

  In order to keep anyone from seeing them together, she’d stayed on the opposite side of the road from him. Only when they got to his building did they finally come together.

  The inside lobby was a bit run-down and smelled like garlic. With the key dangling from his hand, Tristan hustled them up the stairs to the second floor, and thirty seconds later, he ushered Isabella inside his apartment. She took off his coat and swept her gaze around the room, taking in the living room’s dark leather sofa and coffee table, and the dining area’s four-seat kitchen table. It was simple, comfortable, and best of all, didn’t smell like garlic.

  The door slammed behind her. She twirled around, just in time to see Tristan coming toward her, his strides long and sure, and his eyes dark and focused solely on her. His mouth crushed against hers, stealing her breath as well as her sanity. She reveled in it, giving back as much as he gave, their tongues dueling and teeth clashing.

  Growling low in his throat, he yanked her closer and lifted her, giving her no other option but to wrap her legs around his waist. From her pebbled nipples to her swollen clit, every part of her ached for him.

  He carried her down a short hallway to his bedroom and placed her on the edge of his bed. “Don’t move,” he ordered in a deep, guttural voice that warned her there’d be consequences if she disobeyed.

  Heat suffused her, and the inner walls of her pussy fluttered.

  What would he do if she violated his command?

  Did she want to find out?

  She smiled.

  Hell, yeah.

  At the sound of a drawer opening, she turned her head and watched him palm what looked to be a dark piece of fabric. She bit her lip as she tried to figure out what he had in his hand. A tie to use as a blindfold, maybe?

  When he lifted his head, he caught her staring.

  Uh-oh.

  He frowned, his brows wrinkled in disapproval, but the corners of his mouth lifted just a bit. “I thought I told you not to move,” he said in censure. Dark and dangerous as a lion, he prowled to her and dangled a pair of panties in front of her face.

  He kept women’s panties in his drawer?

  Recognition dawned. “Hey, those are mine!” She reached out to snatch them, but he quickly balled them in his fist. “Pervert.”

  He grinned. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Angel. I had them in my desk at work, but I worried someone might find them, so I brought them home with me.” Fisting her hair, he tilted her head back. “Now open your mouth.”

  It was deviant.

  Filthy.

  Sexy.

  Her pussy clenched in anticipation of being gagged by her own underwear. Apparently, he wasn’t the only pervert.

  “I thought you said we were going somewhere I could scream,” she said, in no mood to be compliant. If he wanted her submission, he’d have to work for it.

  His lip curled and mischief danced in his eyes. “Oh, feel free to scream as loud as you want. No one will hear you.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  He snapped her head back until it almost reached the mattress. “Then you don’t get my mouth on your pussy.”

  Said pussy dripped with anticipation. She dropped her jaw, opening wide, and he immediately stuffed her mouth with the panties.

  “Good girl.” His hands skimmed down her sides. “You need to stop, you take out those panties and say ‘red.’ Otherwise, they stay in that mouth of yours.”

  He bunched her shirt up over her head and dropped it onto the floor. “If I remember correctly, you get loud when you come. Don’t need anyone to hear you through the walls. I’ll have to train you to be quiet.” His thumbs brushed over her nipples, lighting her nerves on fire. “White lace. Pretty. But I want my tongue on the pretty underneath.”

  He unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts, and with a hand on her stomach, pushed her onto her back. Goose bumps covered her arms, and her nipples tightened even further as the air wafted over them. Bending over her, Tristan sucked a nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue over the tip. Ribbons of heat connected her nipple to her clit. Every pass of his tongue made her pussy contract.

  The gag effectively muffled her moan.

  He lifted
his head from her breast and instructed her to remove his shirt before taking her other nipple between his teeth.

  She hurriedly slipped the buttons out of the holes, eager to feel his skin on hers. Tristan alternated between biting and sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth, making her feel restless and needy for him. Her hands skated up his bare chest, the heat of it nearly singeing her palms.

  With one last wicked nibble, he stood tall and peeled the shirt down his arms, letting it float to the floor. She barely had a moment to drink in the sight of him before he dropped from view.

  Like a kinky version of Prince Charming, Tristan knelt in front of her and removed her shoes and socks. She shivered, the sensation of his hands on the arch of her foot intensely erotic. He spread her thighs and settled between them. “Look at me,” he said gruffly.

  She picked her head off his bed, watching as he unbuttoned her pants and slowly drew down her zipper.

  “Lift,” he ordered, patting the side of her thigh. Once she complied, he hooked his fingers inside the waistband of her pants and dragged them and her lacy panties down her legs, leaving her completely bare. “I was a fucking moron for thinking I could ever walk away from this pretty pussy.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her mound and ran a finger up her wet labia. “Mine,” he whispered reverently as his head descended.

  Sparks danced along her spine as his tongue flicked her clitoris, and a muffled scream tore from her throat.

  He gripped her thighs tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh, but she barely registered it, her focus narrowed to one spot. With expert precision, he lashed her tiny bud, creating a storm inside her that raged out of control.

  Her body bucked up, and her eyelids closed, the intensity of the pleasure too strong for them to remain open. She shook, her toes pointed and her fingers curling as he mercilessly stroked her to an explosive climax. Ripples of scorching bliss poured over her, liquefying her bones and boiling her blood.

  When she found the energy to open her eyes a half minute later, Tristan stood before her, completely naked, his condom-covered cock jutting out from the nest of curls at its base. “Ready for your punishment?”

  As if she hadn’t just orgasmed, the storm in her pussy flared back to life, and her heart banged a staccato beat against her breastbone.

  His mouth glistening with her arousal, Tristan grinned wickedly and took two giant steps toward her. Before she knew it, he’d somehow flipped her onto her stomach.

  “You still get off thinking about my hand smacking that perfect ass of yours?” he asked, squeezing her cheeks. “Let’s see if the reality is as good as your fantasy. I’m giving you five spankings. This first one is for your failure to follow directions.” He placed a hand on the middle of her back.

  Thwack!

  Fire erupted on her backside.

  That fucking hurt. But the fire quickly died and was followed by a pleasant tingle.

  Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad.

  “And this is for speaking to me in a disrespectful tone at the office earlier today.”

  Wait, what? When did she do that?

  Thwack!

  She squirmed, the sting of his hand resonating outward.

  Damn him. He shouldn’t punish her for something she did before they got together.

  “Stay still,” he ordered quietly but firmly. “The third one is for making me so crazy, I had to jack off in the office bathroom every day.”

  He did? That’s what he was doing in there while she was sitting at her desk, completely oblivious?

  God, she would love to see him make himself come.

  Thwack!

  This time, the blistering pain registered, but along with the sting on her ass came a deep, toe-curling pulsation in her pussy. The air seemed to thicken and heat around her, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth.

  “And this is for making me think you were over me.”

  Over him? How could he have believed that? Not a single day had gone by that she hadn’t craved him. If it weren’t for spending all her free time with Chloe, she would’ve completely lost it this past month.

  Thwack!

  She sighed. That last smack had been harder than the others, but the quick flare of pain was worth the pleasure that followed. Her entire body throbbed.

  “Punishment is all done, Angel. I’m proud of you for taking it so well.” He lightly caressed her fiery skin with his fingertips. “You should see how pretty your ass looks right now, all red from my hands. Another day, I’ll take a picture of it to show you.” His voice sounded like he’d swallowed sandpaper, thick and rough, and full of desire for her.

  She loved that spanking her had turned him on.

  “I went easy on you this time, Angel,” he added. “Was the spanking as good as you fantasized?”

  Yes and no. It had definitely hurt more than she’d anticipated, but what she hadn’t expected was how satisfying it would be to please him. Of course, with her panties in her mouth, she couldn’t say any of that to him.

  He cupped her pussy, penetrating her with what felt like more than one finger. Groaning, she clenched her muscles around him. “Soaked. Yeah, you liked your punishment, my dirty Angel.”

  His body rolled over hers, his chest on her back and his arms caging her in as if he were a wild animal and she was his captive prey. She sucked in a breath through her nose as he notched his cock to her opening.

  “Take me,” he growled. “Take all of me.”

  In one hard thrust, he filled her with his hard length.

  Her heart fluttered wildly, the beat of it drumming in her ears.

  He slowly withdrew, almost to the tip, and then slammed back into her, knocking the breath from her chest and lighting up all the nerves inside her channel. Time stood still as he took her hard and furiously. He grabbed her waist, hauling her onto his cock each time he slammed into her. “You feel good around my dick, Angel.”

  With Tristan, she didn’t need to worry about whether she was pleasing him or whether she was participating enough. As the submissive, she was free to just let go and feel. Her body was his to command. It belonged to him.

  She belonged to him.

  Sweat dripped down her spine, and damp pieces of hair stuck to her neck. Each thrust pushed her clitoris against the mattress, driving her higher and higher toward another orgasm.

  He leaned over and buried his head into the crook of her neck, sinking his teeth into shoulder.

  That bite of pain was all it took to push her over the edge. She let out a muffled cry as the tension deep in her pussy unwound like a spool of thread. Hot waves of climax washed over her, and her inner walls clamped down again and again, resulting in eye-rolling pleasure that curled her toes.

  “Fuck yeah,” he groaned in her ear. “I can feel you coming on my cock.” He kept one hand on her hip while the other took hold of her hair and yanked her head back. “Let’s see if we can get another one out of you before I blow inside that tight-as-hell pussy of yours.”

  After two orgasms, she wasn’t certain she could climax again.

  He quickened his pace, changing his movements from deep to shallow and creating a friction that electrified her from head to toe. His arm banded around her hips, coming between her and the mattress, and his fingers slid down to press on her clitoris.

  A pressure inside her lower belly mounted, spiraling tighter and tighter.

  He pinched her nub.

  And she exploded.

  Starbursts flashed behind her eyelids as she bucked and cried beneath him. He wrung every bit of climax from her body, continuing to rub her clit. Mindless, she reached around, grabbing him by the neck, her fingers clutching the ends of his hair.

  “I’m coming, Angel,” he growled.

  His cock twitched inside her, the force of his ejaculation perceptible even through the condom.

  Sweaty and heavy, he collapsed on top of her as both of them caught their breath. And like that, she was cocooned. Safe.

  She could stay unde
r him forever.

  She inhaled the scent of sweat and come into her lungs, savoring it. With a heavy sigh, he withdrew from her body and stood, then gently turned her onto her back. She shivered, instantly missing his weight and heat as the air cooled her fevered skin.

  Tristan removed the panties from her mouth and threw them on the floor. “What color are you at, Angel?”

  “Green,” she whispered, her voice raspy because of her dry throat.

  Looking at her affectionately, he caressed her cheekbone. “I know you were worried that I’d change my mind. That’s not going to happen. I’m all in, Angel. I promise you. No regrets.”

  She smiled. “No regrets.”

  There were a dozen reasons why they were a bad idea. If she sat down and wrote a pro/con list, she was sure the cons would outnumber the pros. But she didn’t care.

  He was willing to take the risk.

  And that meant more to her than all the cons.

  Her phone jingled from inside her purse in the living room, alerting her to a new text. She planted a kiss on his cheek and, in all her naked glory, rolled off the bed to grab it. Hopefully, it was Chloe with the news she’d gotten the lead role. She couldn’t imagine anyone more deserving than her roommate.

  After snagging her cell from the bottom of her purse, she opened up her text messages and stopped cold.

  It was as if the ground tipped beneath her feet, shaking her foundation.

  Her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the carpet, the phone still in her hands.

  Tristan was suddenly beside her, his voice sounding far away. “Isabella? What is it?”

  She couldn’t answer. As if she was submerged in icy water, she began to tremble uncontrollably.

  He took the phone out of her hands and read the message out loud. “See you soon, Izzy.” Putting his hands underneath her butt, he scooped her up and plopped her on his lap. His arms banded around her. “Who is this from?”

  “Only he calls me Izzy.” She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, hoping it was all a nightmare. A single text had shattered all the peace she’d found through her submission. “It’s from Tony.” Her teeth chattered. “He’s coming for me.”