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The Devil's Mercy

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Her breath caught as his hand ran gently up her thigh. Sending electricity through her nerve endings. Watching the storm begin to gather in his eyes. "That's right, Mercia. Talk to me, baby. Tell me with those sexy sounds how I make you feel." His voice was thick. The vibration of it against her chest as his hand moved further up to her hip.

Her heart was pounding while her breathing had was already coming in short gasps. "Tell me your name." She whispers leaning forward as his hand continues up from her hip to trace the outline of her body. "Please."

"You already know it, Mercia." He whispers softly. "I'm the devil that you wrote about in your last journal entry." Then his lips crashed down on hers. Gone was the gentle caress on her side. His other hand rose to join the first at her shoulders. Pushing her back against the wall of his bedroom.

Her head was swimming as his mouth assaulted hers in a demanding yet surprisingly gentle kiss. He was holding back. Letting her decide for herself if this is what she wanted.

Hell yes it was! For two weeks he had been driving her mad with all the intense gazes. The light touches. The gentle words. He had been wooing her to this point without really touching her. Undressing her with his eyes. Using her name like a lover.

Her lips parted under his. The feel of his tongue's invasion started a firestorm of desire in her lower belly. Making her n*****s harden through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She moaned softly into his mouth. Her arms encircling his neck to pull him closer. Molding her soft curves to the hard planes of his body.

He groaned. His hands moved to her hips to lift her against the wall. Her legs went around his waist instinctively. Grinding her hips into his. Seeking that one thing that she really shouldn't want. For him to fill her body. To be one with him. These were urges she shouldn't feel. Yet she was consumed by need.

Her hands lowered to his belt. His mouth still declaring war on hers. He pulled back when he felt the tug at his waist. "Mercia. I want you to know that I don't have the control to not hurt you. It's been too long."

"Then don't hold back." She whispered. Her hands continued to work as his mouth traced a path along her jaw to her ear where he started down her neck. One hand moved from her hip to cup her breast through the silk of her nightgown. Her head moved against the wall as her back arched. His finger and thumb expertly teasing her already taut n****e. The movement put it right in the path of his mouth. Through the gown his hot mouth teased and tormented the peak until she screamed. The tightening that had started at her core releasing violently. Making her whole body shudder.

He paused to look at her through hooded lids. "Did you just?"

She nodded. "You are really good at that. Make me do it again."

He moved to the other breast. Sucking and nibbling. His hand still working the over sensitive n****e he had just been playing with. Her core tightened again.

"Yes, yes." She encouraged. Her hand slipped into his boxers to fondle him. The thick shaft of his c**k was heated velvet over steel. Her hand encircled it perfectly. Then started pumping slowly. Making him groan deep in his throat as he continued to tease her n*****s. His groan of pleasure undid her again. She shattered but didn't break her rhythm.

"Mercia. I need inside you."

"I want you inside me." She agreed. "Take me to bed, Devil. Make me yours."

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Chapter One
June, 2006 Chicago A low growl of warning shattered the silence of the room. Jace's hazel eyes rose to the man turned beast on the other side of the bed. Tawny hair unwashed and unbound around the man's shoulders. Tired, but alert, cold grey eyes under heavy brows. Golden hairs on his cheeks and chin dulled by the subdued light of the room. "We have been through this every four hours for two days, sir." He grunted in a hushed tone. "Change her IV, check her vitals, and her stitches." The beast snarled his usual response. "Did I ask?" Jace sighed and shook his head in the same way he did at the question. "No, sir." He was keeping the girl sedated. Letting her heal peacefully and unaware of how much pain she should be in. His fingers gently pulled the sheet back from the girl's back to reveal the reason for his concern. Two long, jagged lines crossed her back from her shoulders to her opposite hips. The stitching had been a nightmare. But he had managed to get it done in two hours. While she was already getting an IV of fluids and blood. Not an easy feat outside of New York City. The man seated on the bed beside her. Her small hand engulfed in one of his large mitts. Not one of his army dared to discourage him. Every one of them knowing what he was thinking: Olivia. Their leader's baby sister who had been tortured and killed in much the same way this woman would've been. For seven years The Devil had searched for and destroyed every man involved in snuffing out his fourteen-year-old sister's life. The only ones he couldn't touch were his own brother and father. At least until two days ago. The cold eyes narrowed as another growl emitted from him. Jace removed a little of the gauze covering the stitches in the center of her back. Another growl. Another sigh. The assessment of his patient done, Jace gathered his medical supplies into his case. His steps echoed through the room as he crossed to the door. "You may want to shower and change at some point. Also the little girl is asking for you." A small flicker of emotion lit the grey eyes before returning to the elder sister on the bed. His thumb making small circles on the inside of her forearm above a bandage around her wrist. His thumb traced a round scar. Cigarette and cigar burns littered most of her arms and legs. An exam had determined that she was still a virgin. Oskar wouldn't have okayed the exam if there hadn't been a question as to if this young woman was the child's mother not sister. The two looked so alike. "I'm not leaving this room until she wakes." The first sentence he had spoken since he had taken this spot on the bed. "Thank you, medic." Jace gave the man a nod of respect before leaving the room. The gentle click of the latch engaging let Oskar know he was alone with her again. Take all the time you need, sweetheart. Heal and sleep. I'll protect you and watch over you. His silent vigil over the young woman hadn't really been on his mind when he had stepped into that mansion. Rescuing her hadn't even come into the equation. He hadn't known she was there. Until he had heard her scream. It wasn't fear or even pain in her scream. It was rage. She was spitting and cursing. Halfway down the hall as he followed her voice with Vance and Roy at his flanks he realized why she was angry. She knew she was going to die. There was no fear in her voice because of it. She was pissed because she couldn't take one or all of them with her. Unlike others the Draugar had saved. This woman was fighting with the only thing she had. Her rage. "That's cute. Three sadists with two inch cocks." Their progress slowed as they got closer to the door. The sound of the woman being hit several times pushed him to act fast. Vance took the other side of the threshold to assess where the targets were. He signaled silently. "You hit like a girl." The words were slurred and wet. "Shut up, bitch." Was said from the opposite side of the room from his position. Oskar's blood ran cold. Walter, Oskar's younger brother. The only one of the men who had killed Olivia seven years ago that Oskar couldn't touch. A vow to his mother protected her daughter's murderer. "Oh, poor little boy. Did I hit a nerve?" Her scream this time was of pain. The familiar metallic scent of blood wafted from the room. His eyes met Vane's. His were wide with horror. His mouth hung open for a moment before murder lit his black eyes. Oskar gave a nod that he was ready. Ready to do what he should've done years ago. Vane pivoted through the doorway to continue up the length of the wall. Oskar did the same with his wall. Knives in their hands. Roy behind them to bar the door. A team of six waited at the either end of the hallway. His heart stuttered and stopped at the sight of the woman dangling by her wrists. The cord had already started to work the tender flesh. Blood was pooling on the floor with a drain in the center. Around the room were tables of tools for torture. George, Oskar's father stepped back from the unconscious body. Naked and covered in blood. The pain had been more than she could stand. "Come to join us, son?" George asked holding out the knife in his hand. Her blood and tissue covering it. His other hand moved to his c**k for a stroke. Holding his father's eyes, Oskar moved forward. His own blade ready in his hand. The only two men on this planet he wasn't allowed to touch and they were being served to The Devil on a platter. His words were a prayer as his free hand wrapped around the knife blade and pulled his father hard toward him. The bite of the steel didn't register. "May Mother forgive me." His knife hand moved fast. Driving the knife to the hilt into the side of his father's throat. Chaos erupted as his dead grey eyes landed on his brother's. Roy and Vance moved as he squared up on his brother. "Oskar. Think of Rosalinda. She's due in a month." "I am." Oskar growled as he stalked his brother around the room slowly. "Mother. What will Mother say?" Walter begged. "She won't forgive you." "I don't care." Oskar stated as he got close enough when Walter's back hit the wall between two tables. Repeating the same deathblow. The knife used on the woman fell with the lifeless form. He turned in time to see Roy and Vance beat Varcus down to his knees. The r****t/murderer Oskar's real target tonight. "I didn't touch your f*****g sister, Oskar. I swear. I was here." Oskar glanced to Vance and then Roy who where holding the man on his knees. Head bent with powerful hands on his shoulders. "I didn't say anything about Olivia, did I?" "Not that I heard," Vance answered. "Tank?" "Nope." Oskar reached over his shoulder to withdraw the sword he had specially made. Revenge in Japanese on the blade. "Sounds like an admission of guilt, Varcus. Perhaps you should've stayed home that day." In a smooth motion his arm came down and the ugly head of Varcus Porcceli dropped from his shoulders with a heavy thud. Vance and Roy released the decapitated corpse. Vance withdrew the knife at his back to cut the woman down. "No." Oskar ordered holding out his hand for the blade. "I'll do that. Get a blanket to wrap her in. Then remove the corpses of my father and brother." The hilt of the blade hit his open palm. "You're bleeding, major." "The fingers are still attached, corporal." Oskar replied stepped to the woman's naked front. "Blanket?" Heavy steps retreated then more entered a minute later. The soft blanket was placed in Oskar's ready hand. He hadn't moved. Hadn't thought. Only stared at the young woman. Chestnut hair with highlights of red. Long lashes against golden skin. Bruises around her eyes and at the corner of her cut lip were forming. His eyes had roamed all of her. Not leering necessarily. This wasn't his type of game. But assessing. His male brain noticing things about her that he wasn't sure he should. Reverently he wrapped the blanket around her body and reached up with the knife to cut her free in two motions. Unsure how long she would remain unawares. Scooping her up in his arms to carry in her bridal style out. Her blood was already seeping through the blanket onto his forearms as he reached the head of the hall and left through the grand entrance of the mansion.

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