Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(104)

Walking down the sidewalk to her car, she glances at me with a curious expression. “When are you two gonna get married?”

I laugh loudly. “Why should we get married?”

“Because you’ve been living together for, like, four years. You own a house together. Normal people get married.”

“We’re not normal,” I reply as I open her car door. I can’t exactly add the part about how Maggie and I make commitments to each other that feel just as serious and binding as a marriage certificate.

“Well, you’re not normal. But maybe she wants to get married.”

I consider it for a moment as Sophie stuffs the big bag of food in the passenger side. Mags and I have had this conversation before. She was fine without a ceremony, but what if Sophie is right? What if I’m depriving Maggie of something she secretly wants?

“Are you worried that we’re going to break up just because we’re not married?”

Sophie laughs. “Not at all. I just keep wondering when you’re going to grow up and do the adult thing.”

“Hey,” I reply, appearing offended, “I am grown up.” But even as I say it, I hear how funny it sounds. I’m nearly twenty-six and I don’t feel any older than eighteen most days. Running the club has given my life more purpose, but I still don’t quite feel adult enough. “My point is that as long as you’re happy, who cares if you follow convention. What other people think doesn’t matter.”

“I know,” she replies with a genuine nod of her head. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just curious. Seriously, you two are couple goals.”

“Good,” I reply, feeling a bit proud of that. Who knew I’d end up in a relationship that was considered couple goals.

Then she leans in for a hug, and I squeeze her tight under one arm before putting her in her car and watching her drive away. While I wait for her taillights to disappear, I shoot a quick response to the group chat I have with Gwen and Charlie, reassuring them that Sophie is doing well, not too thin or showing signs that she’s getting into trouble. Honestly, it feels ridiculous. Sophie might as well be the most mature one out of all of us. She should be looking after us.

When I walk back into the house, the living room is dark and quiet, and I follow the dim light until I find Maggie sitting on the bed in nothing but a lacy bra, underwear, and her confidence-laced Domme face. My mouth waters at the sight.

“Well, hello, ma’am,” I say as I drop slowly to my knees.

She hooks her finger at me, so I crawl toward her, just like I have hundreds of times before. A warm sense of comfort washes over me as she leans down, clipping the collar into place.

As it clicks, I furrow my brow. Sophie’s words are stuck in my head. When Maggie senses the subtle hesitation on my face, she pauses.

“What’s wrong?”

Kneeling between her legs, I gaze up and try to remember what it felt like the first time we were in this position. It was all so new and exciting back then. But now I’m so used to it, it’s become second nature. This is who I am and she is what I need.

But is it still enough for her?

Is this promise around my neck enough to show Maggie that I’m hers, forever?

“Do you want to get married?” I ask, seemingly out of nowhere.

Her eyebrows lift as she stares down at me. “What?”

“Is this enough for you? Are you happy?”

“I’m very happy. Where is this coming from?” she asks.

“Sophie asked why we’re not married. She said maybe you would want to be and it had me worried. I would marry you, you know? I’d do it right now. If that’s what you want.”

Sensing the concern in my tone, she reaches down and wraps her hands around my neck.

“No, Beau. I don’t want to get married.” It doesn’t exactly quell my worries.

“Why not? Don’t you want a wedding? Some sort of show of commitment from me?” I ask.

When a gentle smile stretches across her lips, she kisses me. “Every day you give me love, you submit to me, you trust me with your body and your heart, and you stay faithful to me. That shows me your commitment. You choose me every single day. I’d rather have that than a legally binding contract any day. This collar around your neck is my wedding ring, and nothing in the world could mean more to me.”

My shoulders relax as I let out a deep breath. I never thought about it like that. I do choose her every day, and she chooses me too. But when you find something perfect, you don’t throw that away. “I love you,” I whisper.

She pulls me up toward her for a kiss. Burying my hands in her hair, I let her deepen it. As she pulls away with a smile, I drop my hands.

“Can I make you come now?” I ask as I skate my fingers down her thighs.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“Please, ma’am. Can I make you feel good?”

She strokes my head with a smile.

“You’ve been so good today. Yes, you can.”

I smile up at her before burying my face between her legs, loving the way she lets out a sweet whimper when I do. Making her feel good makes me feel good. And that’s not something I ever thought I’d say before. But now that I know who I really am, it’s not so weird to me anymore. This is what I was always meant to be—hers.