Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(71)

“If the sellers need to close on the first, then we’ll have to sign them by proxy. I won’t get there until the third,” she says.

My eyes widen when I realize she could be talking to my dad. I swallow as I stare down at her, watching her stroke my quickly growing dick. I’m studying her face for any sign that it’s him or not, but it’s clearly not having any effect on my arousal.

Fuck, do I want it to be him? Or do I not? On one hand, it’d be a killer act of rebellion, but on the other…thinking about my dad doesn’t exactly help me get in the mood.

It’s been a week since I told Maggie I’d go to Phoenix with her, and I meant it. I still really want to, but…what the fuck am I going to say to my dad? It’s too suspicious to move to Phoenix at the same time she does…and for no real reason. We have to tell everyone the truth, and the clock is ticking.

She’s leaving in ten days. We’re leaving in ten days.

I’ve spent the last week repacking the things she’s going to need, but right now, her plan is to rent out the new house while she’s gone and find something furnished in Phoenix that will work short term. As for me, I don’t have much to pack. I’ve moved so many times in the past couple years that I purged my crap down to almost nothing. I had that place with Charlie before moving in with Dash for a while and then back in with my mom. I could literally fit my belongings into a single fucking box.

It’s moments like these I want to remind Maggie that I’m a loser. She has this beautiful house, a great paying job, owns a fucking company, takes care of a dog, and I’m a homeless, jobless loser.

But it’s hard to think about any of that when she brings the tip of my now hard cock to her tongue, licking a torturous circle around the head. I’d enjoy this a lot more if I thought for a second, she was going to let me come at the end of it. But I know better. Edging me to the point of pain is her favorite thing to do. She’ll do this shit all day, and if she’s really feeling evil, she’ll send me home and make me promise not to touch myself.

And I don’t. I’ve learned my lesson. Being a brat is only fun for so long because sometimes the punishment really fucking sucks.

My ass is still sore and bruised with the proof of that fact.

I have to bite the knuckle of my middle finger to keep from groaning when she takes my cock all the way into her mouth, coating it with saliva. After pulling off, it’s wet enough that she can stroke me through the rest of her call.

When I reach the verge of coming, she slowly shakes her head as she stares up at me.

Just after she hangs up with, who I assume now is the realtor in Phoenix, I’m ready to start begging.

“Please…”

“You’ve been so good,” she whispers before licking a circle around the head again. Her free hand reaches between my legs, massaging the space between my ass and balls, making me whimper. Then, she takes my sac in her palm, pulling it down enough to cause a little pain.

“I’m so close,” I cry. “Maggie, please.”

“Maggie?” she asks after she pops her mouth off my throbbing cock.

Fuck. I blew it. “Ma’am, I mean. I’m sorry. Ma’am, please.”

She makes a tsking sound as she stuffs my aching erection back in my tight black briefs. “I almost gave in, but I need to learn to be more strict with you. I can’t be spoiling you. No matter how much I want to.”

The idea of being trained and spoiled isn’t so weird to me anymore. Two months ago, I would have thought this was the strangest relationship in the world—in fact, I did, but now? I get it. Everything between me and Maggie is natural, easier than a regular relationship. With other women, I had no boundaries, no rules, no consequences. I was a bratty kid alone in a candy shop, and I wreaked so much havoc.

So I don’t complain much when she denies me my orgasm again. If she wants to keep me under control, then I’ll let her.

She glances down at her watch. “We have to start getting ready. The rehearsal starts in an hour.”

I slump against her desk. I’ve been dreading this weekend all month.

“Before you get dressed, I bought you something.”

Pausing with a mix of fear and curiosity, I watch as she spins in her chair and pulls a small box out of a discreet black bag. “Open it,” she says as she drops the box on the desk between us.

Getting a strange black box from your Domme is never really a good sign because you never know if it’s a reward or a punishment, but I’m too curious to resist. When I peel back the top, I stare down at a silver wire-shaped dick that’s hollow inside and has a ring at the end of it. “What is it?”

She lifts it from the box. “It’s a cage.”

“For my dick?”

A devilish grin pulls one side of her mouth up into a crooked smile. “Since I can’t exactly be your Domme this weekend, I needed something to remind you that you belong to me. Hopefully, this will keep you in line, so you behave.”

“I did behave,” I argue.

She tilts her head to the side. “You made a fool of yourself at the engagement party, and you flirted with Charlie’s cousin at the bridal shower. Tonight, you will be nothing but obedient and well behaved. The cage is there to remind you.”

“I can’t get hard with this on,” I point out. To which she laughs.