Dangerous Virtues

 

by Marie Noire

 

 

            Prologue

            London, England  1850

 

            "That's it, young one.  Take it.  You know what to do." his rough, passion-laced voice urged as he lay naked under her partially clothed form, almost writhing with desire.

            Mercy Kyle smiled seductively as she ran her tongue over Jack's chest and stomach, deliberately teasing his rigid sex with her fingers.  Her flame red curls of hair brushed the insides of his thighs as she lowered her mouth to him, licking over the tip.  Her strange, violet eyes met his for a second before she closed her lips around him and slid down.  Jack arched up, so much like a cat as he hissed his pleasure through clenched teeth.  Her tongue worked magic on him from within the hot, wet cavern of her mouth, bringing him to the edge of lust skillfully without pushing him over.

            "Enough... for once, represent your name well." he cried out in a hoarse whisper, his hands pushing her back.

            "Which name?  Mercy?  Or shall I kill you and keep tabs with my sobriquet?  I rather like being called The Black Widow, you know." she asked, releasing him from her mouth, but now using the crevice between her breasts instead.  "I think I also like having the infamous Jack the Ripper in the palm of my hand... quite literally."

            "Ah... and does that serve to pleasure you, young one?  Does power arouse you?" he asked, taking control once more by turning her onto her back and using his ever-present knife to slice her petticoat down the middle, exposing her sex to his view.  She still wore her thigh-high stockings of black silk, which only served to arouse him more.  His lust close to overpowering, he shoved her legs apart, a move she had been prepared for, using her hands and back to raise her hips, flaunting herself for inspection. 

            He paused for barely a second before lowering his head, his tongue tracing the cleft between her legs.  Mercy leaned her head back, closing her eyes and moaning softly.

            "Mind if I join in?" came a female voice from the doorway.

            Jack sat bolt upright, poised in the act of pushing into Mercy's wetness.  His knife once again in hand, he paid little heed to his nudity and glared at the intruder.

            "Who are you?  How did you find this place?" he demanded, aware mostly of the fact that his enemy was a slender silhouette of a woman, who approached slowly.

            "Nobody." she answered, stepping into the dim light of a few candles.  She was the same age and height as Mercy, but whereas Mercy was well-endowed and voluptuous with a shock of brilliant red curls, this woman was slight and willowy, with a waterfall pale golden hair.  Although she looked weak and fragile, Jack knew that she was no blushing maiden, for her exposed arms were tanned and as muscled as any woman had a right to be.  "Just a lady looking for some action.  Who else should I seek out for that but Jack the Ripper and his lovely apprentice?"

            Before Jack could form any sort of a reply, the strange girl was upon him, her hot mouth over his sex, one long-fingered hand cupping the twin sacs heavy with need.  He laid his head back, opening his eyes to find Mercy's pink, glistening womanhood bare inches away, above him.  Straining upwards, he found he could reach the little pearl buried within the wet folds of skin.  Mercy's hands came down, pinning his hands to the bed so that he couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to.  The stranger's mouth was hot and urgent, coaxing him quickly to the edge and over it for what seemed like a thousand times.

            In response, Jack doubled his efforts on Mercy, thrusting his tongue inside of her and tasting the heady wine that flowed from within.  Mercy rocked her hips back and forth, thrusting against his face as he did the same to the stranger.  He heard Mercy scream at last, felt her start to shake frantically as she came.

            Two women at once, both stunningly beautiful... he couldn't hold back any longer.  He broke his hands free of Mercy's capture, burying his fingers into the stranger's thick tresses of gold and pulling her head into him, forcing her to take him deeper in her mouth.  Her teeth raked on him in response, the pain blending with the pleasure until he couldn't tell them apart anymore.  He pushed against her fiercely, spilling his seed down her throat with a rough shout to the heavens.

            He collapsed, blind after such pleasure and panting for breath like a man who had just run a race against Hermes.  Vaguely, he felt Mercy lay next to him, her breathing as erratic as his.  His fingers found an erect little nipple easily and he pinched it, stopping the pressure just short of causing her true pain.  A moan-tinged gasp escaped her lips in response and she rolled away slightly, her signal to stop.

            Reality seeped back in and Jack sat up at last, staring at the blonde-haired woman who had interrupted his intercourse with Mercy so wonderfully.  She smiled back at him smugly, seating herself in a chair.

            "By the way... how are you, Mercy?" she spoke at last, glancing at her nails in a bored fashion, as though she had just finished a quilting bee rather than an impromptu menagé-trois with London's most wanted serial killer.

            "Jack the Ripper... meet my cousin, Patience Kyle, known by American pioneers as The Black Scorpion." Mercy smiled.

 

 

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