Chapter 40
CHAPTER
FORTY
Mercer
I stood on a precipice, staring out over the landscape of everything I wanted. A new vision for my life. Something far removed from deployments and patrol schedules and a promising military career.
Something better.
It was visits with my daughter, a very pretty man in my bed, and a connection to an oddly endearing bunch of demons. Having them in my house felt right. Like they belonged here, and I belonged among them.
That was the Darby effect.
Holding a damp towel and the bottle of lube, I headed back into the bedroom and—Christ, what a sight.
Darby lay on the bed, his skin even richer in the low light. His hair framed his face in a cloud of white, and the sheets curved around the contours of his body. His tail rested in a lazy coil beside him, and it flicked once when he saw me.
I crossed over to him, set the lube on the table, and put my good knee on the mattress. With ginger strokes, I cleaned his stomach and tiny cock, which thickened in my grasp, kicking alive at the same moment his tail swished across the comforter.
Darby bit his lip and blushed, and I tossed the towel aside, freeing my hand to palm him instead, working over his length in slow strokes.
“Mercy,” he moaned, hips lifting and fingers clenching in the sheets.
Considering he’d just come, I was surprised to see him already hard again. It must’ve shown on my face, because he stilled long enough to murmur shyly.
“Short refractory period.” He shrugged. “Kind of wasted on a bottom.”
A waste? More like a gift, and one that had me wondering how many times I could bring him back, how many sounds I could pull from his pretty mouth, how many ways I could watch his body move and crave and chase my touch.
“Not anymore,” I told him.
A shuddering breath escaped him as I slid my hands to his thighs, easing back and pulling him with me. I dragged his body across the comforter until his ass rested on the edge of the bed.
As I planted my feet, he cocked his head and grinned at me. “I thought I was gonna ride you?”
I shook my head. “You get to relax, pretty girl. You’ve done enough work tonight.”
Without another word, he lifted his legs and offered himself to me.
Turning aside, I snagged the lube and pumped a generous amount into my palm.
Slicking two fingers, I cupped the back of Darby’s bent leg and guided my hand down between us.
When I pressed into his heat, he arched immediately, eyelids fluttering and chest lifting like he couldn’t draw air fast enough.
I eased deeper, finding the place my tongue had been minutes before, pushing and curling into the most private parts of him.
Darby’s fingers dug into his calves as he spread himself wider. His mouth fell open, and the tendons in his neck jumped.
My third finger joined the others, and his answering cry crawled straight up my spine. I could barely breathe as I worked him looser, so overwhelmed by the spectacle of it all.
“Stop,” he whimpered, releasing his hold on himself to grab my wrist instead. His eyes fixed on mine, orange rings blazing around pools of pitch black. “I’m ready. I need you now.”
Pulling my fingers free made him groan, and his tail lashed across the sheets. His body softened into the mattress as I reached for the lube again.
“Condom,” he breathed.
I faltered, reluctant to delay when my thread of control was fit to snap. “It’s okay, I haven’t—”
“I have.” He swallowed, cheeks flushed and eyes impossibly open. “Not in a while. But I want you to be safe.”
How could I argue with that?
“All right,” I murmured.
I forced myself to step away, though I did it quickly. Opening the bedside drawer, I dug out a condom, tore it open, and rolled it down over myself.
Then I was back where I belonged—between his legs, close enough to feel the heat pouring off his skin. I used one hand to guide myself while the other settled on his knee.
His breath hitched. His tail curled. And I pressed in.
He yielded beautifully, taking me inch by inch, but he was still tight, gripping my cock with a ring of pressure that nearly sent me over the edge upon entry.
I eased in until my hips met the cradle of his body and my balls pressed to his taint.
He stayed still beneath me, his expression almost serene.
I lingered there, letting his body settle around mine. Then I pulled back and sank into him again.
His answering yelp was sharp-edged and sweet. I grabbed his legs and hooked them around my waist, dragging him closer so he met my next thrust with a louder cry.
Darby’s chest bowed up, angling himself higher as I drove into him again and again. It was almost reckless, this need to join with him, to connect us at the most primal level.
My hips snapped. His body bucked. Each deep, plunging thrust punched the air from his lungs and sent his cock bouncing, flushed and beading with precum.
He was gasping and moaning loud enough to wake the whole damn house, but I didn’t even think about shushing him.
I gorged myself on his squeals and sighs and the slap of his skin on mine.
And every time he called out my name, begging, praising, barely breathing, I felt myself creeping nearer to my own imminent surrender.
Climax barreled down on me, a rush like wind that swept up my back and bent me forward.
I pinned Darby to the bed with my hands on his shoulders and my cock buried to the hilt.
There, I captured him with a kiss, claiming his mouth and swallowing his final cry as he came with me, spilling between our stomachs while I emptied myself inside him.
The kiss dragged on until my lungs burned for air. Darby clutched my wrists, holding me on top of him and threatening my balance. Jelly legs were a hazard when I had two, a disaster with one and a half. Slowly, I eased back, body buzzing and brain pleasantly hazy.
When my softening cock slipped free, Darby exhaled long and low. He went limp on the mattress with his legs dangling over the edge and his tail hanging loose.
I was grateful for the towel still within reach.
I scooped it up, removed the condom, tied it off, and set it aside.
A quick swipe cleaned me up, and then I folded the towel to a fresh patch and took care of the mess on Darby’s stomach.
He didn’t move—eyes closed, hands flat on the bed, breathing like he was already drifting off.
When he was clean, I moved to the head of the bed and folded down the covers.
Coming back for him felt instinctive and maybe necessary since he seemed content to melt into a puddle exactly where he was.
Sliding one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders, I lifted him.
He didn’t weigh much, but stooping, shuffling, and maneuvering him onto the pillows with my balance being what it was turned into a dangerous dance.
With moderate effort, I got him settled and tucked beneath the blankets, warm and snug.
Darby rolled onto his side and curled into the sheets. I brushed a wisp of white hair from his brow and kept my hand there a moment, feeling him breathe.
“Do you need water or anything?” I murmured.
He cracked his eyes open and cut his gaze toward me, pondering perhaps, like I was. After a moment, he said, “Mercy, I need you to ask me something.”
I eased onto the mattress beside him. Whatever this was, it had nothing to do with water. “What is it?”
Darby’s throat worked as he gathered the words. “Something important,” he replied. “Something you deserve to hear, and I want to tell you. I need to. But I can’t…” He bit his lip and looked away, and I almost thought he’d give up on the idea entirely until he forced out, “Will you ask me?”
I studied his face, riddled with exhaustion and a glimmer of bravery. Because he was brave. And true. And endlessly capable of compassion, and care, and maybe…
“Do you love me?” I asked.
Relief pulled the final threads of tension from his body. He gazed up at me, smiling wide and watery then nodded. “I do.”
I expected the statement to settle. Being loved came with responsibility—at least, that was what I’d been taught.
But Darby’s confession didn’t add weight.
Instead, it lifted something that had been pressing on my heart for too long.
Because I hadn’t married for love, hadn’t joined the service for love, hadn’t returned home for love.
I’d done all those things for the sake of duty, honor, and courage.
But this?
Being loved by Darby and loving him back restored the sense of purpose I’d been starving for. It sent me in a new direction and bound me to a cause no less worthy than any I’d served before.
“Baby, that’s so good,” I praised and watched the fire ignite in his eyes.
He turned toward me, cocooned beneath the blankets with only his face peeking out, but that was all I needed. I cupped his cheeks with both hands and kissed them, then his lips, then back to his cheeks again until he broke into giggles beneath me.
Pulling back, I met his gaze, as serious as I could be. “I’m gonna take care of you. You know that? I know you look out for everyone else, but you’re my job now. And I’m gonna give you everything.”
His brows pinched, but his voice was soft and resolute. “I just want you. That’s everything.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I paused to clear it. “I might have… a little more to give you. Soon.” His expression shifted to a curious one before I declared, “Molly’s coming to visit.”
Darby’s irises glowed like a sunrise. “Oh, Mercy, that’s fantastic!”
I nodded. “I want to make it a regular thing. Have her over on the weekends, maybe. And…” I swallowed down yet another swell of emotion to conclude, “I’d like her to meet you. Again. As my partner.”
Darby went still. Then his eyes shimmered with tears. He wormed his way upright, blankets slipping down his shoulders.
“I’m gonna be a mommy?” he whispered, voice breaking with wonder.
A soft laugh escaped me. “Yeah, baby.”