Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(53)

“Oh, my God, Beau,” I shriek.

He freezes. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asks.

I grab his hips and urge him to move again. “No, no. Keep going. Harder.”

I can honestly say I’ve never been fucked this hard, and it’s not really something I thought I’d like. But as he nearly drives my body into the couch with force, his already large shaft reaching parts of my body I didn’t even know existed, I can now say with confidence, this is definitely my style.

I don’t know if my body is climaxing again or if it never truly stopped, but all I do know is sex has never felt like this before. I grab onto his arms, my nails digging into his skin as my body pulses with pleasure again. His eyes are glued to my face as I lose myself to the torrent.

“Can I come?” he cries out.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I reply.

Two more thrusts and he stills, trembling with his orgasm. His low carnal moan in my ear is decadent, and I commit the sound to memory.

Once we’ve both stilled and relaxed together on the couch, he rests his head against my chest, and I run my fingers through his hair. It’s so intimate and unexpected, but I realize in this moment, that everything I’ve been trying to avoid has already happened.

I’m falling for my friend’s son. And it didn’t happen slowly. We collided like two stars moving in the same direction for longer than we knew. There was no changing course or avoiding it. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But there’s no going back now.





Rule #23: It’s good to switch it up from time to time.





Beau





It’s some time past midnight and still raining outside. Normally, I’d be home by now, but I can’t seem to get off this couch.

I’m facing Maggie, who’s scrolling through her phone in nothing but her underwear, while I’m busying my hands with a sketch on my tablet. It’s of her, and all the perfect parts of her stretched out before me.

I hate how hard she is on herself. When she’s in her Domme mode, she doesn’t give a shit and parades herself around proudly—as she should. But I can’t stand how easily she slips back into this mindset, where it almost feels like she hates herself. She won’t let herself feel pleasure and I can’t touch her without her flinching and tensing.

I don’t want to be the only voice in her head that tells her she’s beautiful.

“What are you doing?” she asks, looking over at my tablet. I hold it out for her to see. It’s not great. I’m no artist, but I am pretty proud of how well I captured the little crease of her hips and the shape of her tits. Every perfect part of her.

“I’m keeping this for later,” I reply with a wink before she grabs it out of my hands.

“Beau…” She’s staring down at the messy sketch with a soft expression.

“Do you like it?”

Her lips are slightly parted as I spot the glint of moisture in her eyes, reflected by the light of the tablet in her hands. Fuck, I hope she doesn’t see that and start beating herself up again.

She swallows before whispering, “This is beautiful.”

“Yeah…well, it’s you.”

Her head turns in my direction, and I expect her reaction to be warm. Instead, she frowns and looks away, clearly bothered by something.

“You okay?”

With a few quick blinks, she forces a smile, hands back my tablet, and touches my leg. “Yeah. You’re a really good artist, Beau.”

“Thanks.”

After a moment, she adds, “So, I got some news today. At work. Next month, I’ll be relocating to Phoenix for a while to open the new club. You’ll have to get back on the app and find yourself a new Domme.”

I’m frozen, staring at her and trying to piece together what just came out of her mouth. A new Domme? Just last night, she made me promise I belonged to her, and now…she wants me to find someone new?

“You’re moving to Phoenix?”

“Temporarily, but at least for six months, if I had to guess.”

She looks back down at her phone and her sudden nonchalance regarding this news has me feeling irritable. I want to grab that phone out of her hand and throw it against the wall. I want to yell at her to stop avoiding whatever it is she wants to say, but I don’t. If she’s going to act like it’s nothing, then so will I.

I mean…all the buildup, the trust building, and the things we’ve learned are just going to be tossed in a month. Just like that.

“I should probably go,” I mutter, and her head snaps in my direction as I jump up from the couch.

“In this weather? It’s too dangerous. Just stay.” She follows me, and I try not to read too much into the way she sounds as she asks me to stay. It’s just my safety she’s worried about.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll drive slow,” I argue as I grab my keys from the table.

“Beau, stay,” she replies, more harshly this time.

When I spin to her, I feel the tension. “Are you asking me or are you telling me?”

She hesitates. “I’m…” The words stop and I watch as she realizes the difference. If she’s telling me to stay then we are nothing more than a Domme and her sub. Even if she just implied it with that statement about me needing to find someone new after she abruptly moves away next month. But if she’s asking, then it means she wants me here.