Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(80)

Am I being reckless and stupid…and maybe a bit petty too? Yes. Very much so. But I don’t care. If Beau wants to rebel against his father on his wedding day…and he’d like to make me come in the process, then I approve of this plan.

Tiptoeing into the dark recesses of the house, I feel a hand drag me to the secluded corner of the office. Beau presses me against the wall as his mouth finds mine, warm lips sending a wave of heat to my core.

Silently, he drops to his knees in front of me. When he lifts my dress, it feels so dirty, only making me want it more. He places his lips against my thigh, gently parting my legs as he trails his mouth upward.

He begins peppering kisses all over my belly, my hips, my thighs. My legs grow weak from the heat of his mouth. When he licks his way through my sex and across my clit, I clap a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.

He doesn’t stop. His lips suck eagerly at the sensitive spot, and I clutch a handful of his hair as I press his face there for more pressure.

The closer he brings my body to climax, the more I fight against it. His mouth is like heaven, and the way he’s sucking at my clit is sending me in a pleasure spiral. Using his fingers, he spreads me wide, licking his way inside me before replacing his tongue with two fingers, which he thrusts hard against my G-spot.

This is so wrong, and I should really feel bad about letting Beau tongue-fuck me in his dad’s office, but the wrongness is what drives me to the crest of my pleasure. I ride his face for as long as I can before I finally lose control. Clutching my thighs around his head, I come with a silent shudder, my body trembling with the need to express how good this feels.

I’m left gasping against the wall as I stare down at Beau who wipes his mouth with a devious smile on his face.

“We’re going to hell for that,” I whisper.

“Worth it,” he replies as he stands. “Now when I think about my dad’s wedding, I’m going to remember the delicious taste of your cunt.”

Biting my lip, I blush. With a smile, he leans down to kiss me.

“When are we getting out of here?” he whispers.

“It’d be too suspicious if we leave before they cut the cake.”

“After cake, then.”

“We have to stop by my house for my bag,” I say.

“I figured. What if I leave my car at your house and we take yours to the club?”

I smile. I think I’ll miss all of these logistics of a secret relationship. In Phoenix, there will be no sneaking in or separate cars. And as nice as that will be, I think I’ll miss the excitement of having to keep it a secret. So we might as well enjoy it one last time.

“Yeah, that’s a good plan.”

“I’m excited,” he mutters cautiously. I feel as if I can read something more in his words as if he’s saying he’s excited but really means something else. Something…more.

“I’m excited too,” I reply.

But what I really mean is I really fucking love you.





Rule #33: Show him who he belongs to.





Maggie





“Wear that dress to the club,” he says from my garage as I climb out of my car.

“Wear that tux,” I reply.

I left the reception about fifteen minutes after him, both of us anxious to get out of there once the cake was cut. The party seemed to just be getting started, and they all faked their enthusiasm for me to stay, but everyone knows I’m the last one to prolong the party, so they didn’t put up much of a fight. We hugged, I wished them congratulations again, and they sent me on my way.

The moment Beau and I are finally alone in my garage feels like the first time I’ve actually taken a full breath all day. I practically fall into his arms, inhaling his kiss like it’s oxygen. He smells and tastes like him, and the familiarity of it is like a drug to me now.

He moans into our kiss and I feel him starting to harden behind his pants.

“I should have put you in another cage today,” I tease him, running my hand down to his crotch and cupping his erection.

“Would have been wildly unfair with you in that dress. I’ve been hiding this boner all day.”

I laugh at his language—the dirty vernacular of a twenty-two-year-old man, something I find endearing now and not as annoying as I once did.

“Well, then we should hurry to the club because you’re not coming until I fuck you.”

He shivers deep in his bones, and I can feel it. I bite my lip as I grin up at him. “God, I love it when you talk like that.” Reaching down, he squeezes my ass hard, using it as leverage to grind himself against me.

Pulling away feels almost impossible, but I really do need to get him to the club. And I’m too excited to let this opportunity pass us by. In a frenzy, I run upstairs to pack the bag I readied for tonight with the necessary…supplies. Then, we’re out the door, both of us buzzing with excitement, our hands clasped over the center console as I drive.

When we pass the front of the club, I’m relieved to see not a protester in sight. All of the stars are aligned tonight, and I’m feeling on top of the world. We park behind the club in the employee parking area, and my hands are trembling with nerves.

I’m sneaking Emerson’s son into the club.

I mean, obviously, he’s been here before, but this is the first time he’s walking in with me and no mask. If someone sees us, the jig is up, but maybe that’s okay now. Maybe that’s why we’re taking the risk. Just to be caught.