Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(57)

She lets out a soft moan, her body giving a little fidget from the sensation. When I climb over her, I peel her legs apart to settle myself between them, kissing my way down to her belly. Her fingers find my hair, clutching it in a tight grip like she often does. Her hips rise to meet me and just the sight of her abs constricting beneath me as she squirms with need has my cock throbbing for her.

With her hand in my hair, she steers my face to the apex of her thighs, and I dive in vigorously. She lets out a loud whimper as I press my open mouth to her warm cunt, licking through her folds as her thighs close around my head. She’s already wet and ready for me, like she was dreaming about me.

“Yes, Beau,” she gasps. “Don’t stop.”

I take my time, savoring her arousal as I fuck her with my tongue before sucking with intensity on her clit. She’s fully awake now, but her eyes are still closed, the sheets gripped tightly in her fists. After a few moments of sucking, she finally lets out a raspy scream, her back arched and thighs clenched. When she goes silent, I know she’s deep under the waves of her climax.

I love watching her come. Especially now that I know she’s been deprived of orgasms for so long. I meant what I said before. I want to be the one to right her past wrongs.

“Fuck me,” she pleads. “Now.”

And I don’t waste a second. Sitting up on my knees, I grab her by the hips and flip her onto her stomach, pulling her up until her pussy is right where I need it. Then I plunge in. With one hard thrust, I’m seated as far in as I can go. She lets out a cry, forcing her hips back as I pull out and pound in again.

Like last night, the soft flesh of her hips fills my grasp as I fuck her. But unlike last night, I don’t feel like shit about this. She liked the way I treated her. She’s basically begging for it now. So I squeeze her tighter, hoping I leave bruises. Not because I want to hurt her, but because I want to mark her. I want everyone who ever considers touching her to know this perfect woman is mine—or rather, I’m hers. It’s irrational and ridiculous, but I love the idea of knowing no man can be what I am for Maggie. No more assholes, who just want to take from her. No more fumbling idiots, who don’t know how to give my woman pleasure.

Only me.

Forever.

My cock tremors and twitches inside her as I come. We stay like that for a while before I reluctantly pull out and collapse against the mattress. She curls into my arms as I kiss the back of her neck.

“I just decided I want you to stay over more often,” she says with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply.





The day goes by in a blur of sex. Suddenly, Maggie and I are fucking like we’re making up for something. Neither of us check our phones all day, and she takes the whole day off without a single minute of work.

I don’t even know what time it is when I’m strapped to her mattress and she’s riding me like a bull.

“Remind me again who this cock belongs to,” she says in her confident, sensuous tone.

I’m wearing a shameless grin as I reply, “You, ma’am. It’s all yours.”

“That’s what I thought,” she replies as she picks up the speed of her grinding. I can’t move a muscle. My body is laid out like a starfish on her mattress, using these new straps she must have found at the club. I am nothing but a body with a hard dick for her to use, and I couldn’t be happier.

I love being at her mercy, watching her come on my dick for the tenth time today. It’s fucking amazing. Best sex of my life, and I’m a little afraid of how addicted I’m quickly becoming to this arrangement.

As we’re both recovering, her collapsing against my chest, my phone starts ringing from the nightstand.

“Should I untie you so you can answer that?” she asks, reaching across the bed to grab my phone.

“I don’t even care,” I mumble, struggling to stay awake.

When she goes silent, I peel my eyes open and see that the playful expression on her face is gone.

“It’s Charlie,” she mutters coldly.

“What?” I struggle against the restraints to get my phone, but not because I give a shit about it being Charlie. Although I can see the look of hurt on Maggie’s face. “It must be about my dad. I don’t talk to Charlie anymore,” I say in my defense. I can’t tell by her blank expression if she believes me.

Without answering it, she drops it on the bed and unties my hands. I’m staring at her face, wishing she didn’t look so offended by my ex-girlfriend calling, but I can’t say I blame her.

As soon as my hands are free, I swipe the screen to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Why are you ignoring Sophie?” Charlie snaps without a greeting.

“What? I’m not.”

“She’s been texting you all day. Now she’s in her room crying and won’t come out. She’s sensitive, Beau. I know she’s just a kid, but she was just starting to get close to you, and she doesn’t need another man in her life to let her down.”

“Charlie, I’m not ignoring her. I just haven’t been around my phone much.” I glance up at Maggie, who’s biting her bottom lip with a look of guilt on her face. “Is she really crying?”

The feeling that settles in my gut with that image is worse than guilt. Much worse. It’s shame, regret, self-deprecation, and remorse all rolled into one, and I have never hated myself more than I do in this moment.