Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(69)

“One more. If you really want it, beg me for it.” Her tone is so cruel. I almost don’t recognize her voice.

I really don’t want another one. I want her to leave me alone, so I can recover without the embarrassment of her seeing me like this. But I have to take the full six. I have to.

“Please, ma’am,” I say with a wheeze. “One more, please.”

The last one is the worst one. On already tender flesh, it feels like a knife, and I have to bite down on the bedsheets as I drag out the longest painful sounding moan.

I don’t hear her set the crop down, and I don’t even feel her untie my legs, but suddenly, I can move, and I use the new mobility to try and hide my face from her. But she won’t let me.

Once my hands are untied, I wipe at my tears, and she quickly brings a soft cloth to my eyes, tenderly wiping them away.

“You did so good, Beau. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, turning away from her. And I wish I could get up and move away, but my limbs are heavy, and I feel like I’ve just smoked a whole joint by myself. My body sinks into the mattress as her touch surrounds me. I bury my face into her neck as she holds me, stroking my back and whispering words that make me want to cry even more.

“You did so well. You’re so perfect. I’m so proud of you.” Over and over and over.

And I might be high or in shock, but this time, I let them sink in until I start to believe them.





Rule #28: Aftercare is not the time to make promises.





Maggie





Nothing will ever compare to this moment, his shivering body in my arms, seeking me out for comfort. I knew the pain would take him by surprise. Eden only gave me three hits with the crop and it felt like a hundred.

But I’m not going to lie…that felt good. It felt really good. And not because I want to hurt Beau or because I don’t care about him. If anything, it made me care about him more. It was all about both of us scratching an itch we needed. It was like sex. Finding the sensation we both craved in each other. And watching him take the pain, trying to hide it and fight it, only to succumb to it, was actually sort of…beautiful.

His fight was strong. He was strong. But letting himself really go was even more so.

“I’ll be right back,” I whisper as I ease myself out from under him. His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, but at least he’s finally looking at me.

I don’t leave him on the bed for long, seeking out the aloe balm and ice pack from the aftercare station in the lower cupboards. When I return, I straddle his backside again, this time sitting just above his knees as I squeeze the lotion onto his bright red ass. He winces from the coolness before I gently massage his tender flesh.

He doesn’t say anything as I take care of him, and when I return with a bottle of water, he takes it in his tired hands.

“Sit up,” I whisper. When he does, I open the bottle and gently pour the water into his mouth. His face is still blotchy and swollen around the eyes.

Moments like these, I remember this is Emerson’s son. Even if he is a grown man, this is still his kid. And I should feel bad for the things I’ve done to him, but I don’t. Somewhere along the way, my shame turned into pride. I’m not sorry for making my friend’s son my sub—I’m honored.

This man is mine.

After his bottle is empty, he collapses against my chest again, and I hold him in my arms, brushing back his hair and kissing his head.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

He shrugs.

“Beau, talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” he mutters. And that’s how I know he’s not.

“You really did do so well,” I tell him.

“I know, but I just…wasn’t expecting that.”

“The pain?” I ask.

“No. It was like I lost control. I thought I could handle it,” he says in a low, lazy tone.

“You did handle it. Your reaction was normal.”

“It was humiliating,” he replies with a grunt.

“Even with me?” I ask, touching his face again.

When he looks up, the nothingness in his eyes is better than the guard he usually keeps up. Because at least Beau can have his guard down around me. He trusts me enough for that.

“No. You’re the exception.”

My heart soars, but I try not to let it show in my expression. Pulling his face closer, I let my lips graze his before I softly whisper, “You’re my exception too.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says as he pulls away from my kiss.

“What?”

“I’m not ready to let this go. We’re still learning so much, and it would ruin everything if you just leave.”

“Beau…” I’m ready to remind him it’s just temporary, but that’s just an excuse. Even six months is too long to be apart. Especially if we expect this to still be here when I get back. There’s really only one solution, and I may be crazy bringing this up, but we’re both still high on the moment, so I have no filter. “Come with me,” I whisper.

He’s staring at me with surprise in his eyes. “What?”

“Come to Phoenix with me. Even if it’s only for six months. We can keep doing this.”