Cruel Mercy (Dark Mafia)

Not about the family. Not about my job, which was serious as hell. I was up all night stressed about one cute AF little girl living, and presumably sleeping, mere feet away from my bedroom.

I’d paced like room like a goddamn tiger in a cage, hungry for some tasty piece of meat he simply could not have.

I wasn’t used to being denied. I wasn’t used to wanting. I wasn’t used to knowing I couldn’t just take what I wanted. I wasn’t used to any of this.

It pissed me off. I was furious.

I didn’t think I had ever been this angry in my life. Why had she come here? Was she sent here to punish me? Was God testing me?

Yeah, my lust was getting biblical.

I was already showered, shaved, and changed. I had put on a fresh suit and tie, then removed the jacket and the tie. It was absurd to show up over dressed for breakfast to impress a girl that already hated me.

I’d given her good reason to dislike me, for certain.

I regretted acting like a monster when she’d walked through the door. But I hadn’t been able to control myself. I had been so angry, so bone deep furious, that my cousins, who were like brother to me, would put me in this position. They must have known. They must have known without a doubt that this girl would put me in a tailspin. This wasn’t a crush, it was an obsession.

And I was still fucking furious about it.

I’d avoided women like this my entire life. Not that there were women like her. Like Terri. But anyone that was too pretty. Too sweet. Too good. I had run from.

Until now.

I glanced at my watch for what felt like the hundredth time.

I stood there, waiting for my watch to click to 7:55. The moment it did, I opened the door, glared down the hallway at her closed door, and stalked downstairs like the pent up carnivore that I was.

She wasn’t coming. She was going to ignore my edict that she meet me for meals. She was already breaking the rules.

I gulped burning hot coffee as I stared at my fingers drumming against the polished old wood of the dining room table. I waited. I was ready to boil over, run up the stairs, and demand that she get her cute little ass out of bed and join me for breakfast.

I looked down at my watch. 8 AM on the dime. I heard a soft swooshing sound and glanced up.

Theresa had joined me for breakfast after all. Right at the stroke of eight. I groaned mentally as my shaft started to rise under the table.

Do not use that word, I reminded myself sternly. Or any other words that could possibly make you think about making love to the pretty girl sitting down the length of the table, doing her best to ignore the glowering man with a stiff dick, sitting at the other end of the table.

Goddamn, the girl looked good enough to eat! Fresh as a daisy, beautiful, and unspoiled. She wore a soft blue button down tucked into a pair of snug fitting jeans. I could hardly wait for her to stand up so I could see her cute little ass.

Yes, I was already counting the minutes until she stood up after eating. It was just like the popular expression. I hated to see her go, but I loved watching her leave.

Or… I could trick her into getting a coffee at the sideboard.

“Good morning,” I said, adopting a friendly manner. “There is coffee if you want it,” I added, gesturing towards the sideboard.

“Oh, thank you,” Terri said, forgetting to be angry with me for a moment. It was delightful. I wanted more of it.

But I was too busy staring at her body to ponder more than the intense bolt of lust that went through me.

Auntie arrived with hot plates piled high with food a few minutes later.

“Self serve,” Auntie said gleefully. “Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Terri said with a smile. Actual warmth. She clearly loved the older woman. I felt myself getting jealous. Jealous of my sixty year old aunt. I grimaced. It was definitely a new low.

Never mind that I now had a more pressing problem. I couldn’t stand up. My cock was fully erect. I had to literally sit there until both women left the room, or think about anything but laying Theresa out on the table and slowly having my way with her…

I would start with her lips, my hands moving swiftly to undress her, starting at the top with those ridiculous, terrible buttons. I would strip her bare to my eyes, looking her over at my leisure. But I wouldn’t waste time. I’d be touching and tasting her, making myself wait, making sure she was prepared for me.