Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(82)

“Say it, Beau. Tell me how bad you want this.” I rub my hips across his backside, teasing him as I feel his hips shift toward me.

“I want this, ma’am. I want it so bad.”

Heat tingles its way down to my core at his dirty pleas.

Next, I take out the belt I bought here at the club and the small black attachment that I did a lot of research on to be sure it was the right size to start with for a beginner. I let him hear me putting it on, belting it around my waist and thighs until it’s tight. I notice the way he quivers with every sound.

I realize, in this moment, this isn’t just about Beau submitting or doing something that other men could judge him for, but it’s also about him experiencing something new and scary. Which is something I can definitely relate to. So as much as I want to be his Domme in this moment, I also want to treat him the way I wish I was treated in my most vulnerable moments.

Before attaching the black silicone to the strap, I lean over him and glide my hand down his abs. “Are you hard for me?” I whisper. When my hand meets the steel length hanging between his legs, I get my answer. He lets out a groan as I stroke him.

“Oh…yes, you are. Don’t worry…I’m wet too.” At that, he moans into the bed linens.

“The good news is that I’m going to let you come, and I want you to do it while I fuck you. So when I say so, I want you to stroke yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grunts with his face buried.

Finally, I let go of his cock and rise from the bed. The lube is in a bottle on the shelves next to the bed. Standing with the strap-on wrapped around my hips, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. Like that first time I took control, I wear this power like a second skin. It doesn’t feel foreign anymore—it feels like the real me.

After choosing one of the lubes off the shelf, I bring it over and uncap the lid, so he can hear what I’m doing. Then I drizzle a little right over the tight round muscle of his backside. When I run my thumb over the hole, he clenches. But I keep up the gentle massaging, waiting for him to relax. I’m in no rush. We have all the time in the world tonight.

My other hand softly runs along his lower back, and I watch as his shoulders start to ease further into the bed. His face is still buried between his forearms, but he’s looking more and more at peace, even as I’m slowly breaching his tight hole.

When he does finally relax, letting me prep him properly with a second finger, I notice subtle moans emitting from his chest. His body begins to open up for me and it’s something that both chokes me up and turns me on. Of all the things I want to do to him, this moment has to be the biggest. All of the desire and need I’ve felt for three months has led to this. I’ve already punished him, humiliated him, tortured him, controlled him, but now, this is the big one. Now I get to own him.

My body is on fire with anticipation, my legs clenching together, delicately rubbing as I get warmer and warmer with arousal. My breathing is becoming labored as I work him more and more, his sounds provoking my own.

When he’s finally ready, I drizzle more lube onto the dildo, after securing it in place. Then, I appreciate him again. How erotic and amazing he looks in his position. Open and ready. Vulnerable and mine. He wouldn’t do this for anyone else. No one on earth could have gotten Beau Grant to this point, but I did.

A sense of pride washes over me.

“Remind me…who do you belong to?” I ask.

His chest moves faster with his breaths as he turns his head in my direction. Unable to see me through the blindfold and looking preciously at my mercy, he proclaims, “I’m yours.”

“Good boy,” I reply, stroking his ass. With those words, I ease my way in, inch by delicate inch.

Watching the way his body takes everything I’m giving him is something that will stay etched in my memory forever. The trembles, gasps, moans, and finally, the shudder of pleasure when I reach farther inside him.

“Oh fuck…” He grunts into the bed, unable to keep himself quiet.

“That’s okay, baby. I want you to be loud. Make as much noise as you want. Yell, scream, cuss. Give it all to me.”

He doesn’t respond, only gasps into the sandalwood-scented air.

“How are you?” I ask once I’m seated in as far as I can go. My hips are pressed against his backside.

“Good,” he mumbles with a shaky breath. “Fuck, it’s different, but good. Just go slow. Please, ma’am.”

“Since you asked nicely,” I reply playfully. Not that he had to ask nicely. I wouldn’t fuck him hard right away even if he hadn’t said please. I’m not a monster.

Slowly, I ease out just a few inches before sliding back in. It’s a foreign feeling to be the one doing the fucking, but a vigorous feeling of carnal energy runs through me too. I want to let loose on him, go wild and rough, demanding pleasure from his body. I want to take him to his breaking point without going over.

But we’re not there yet, so I go easy.

After a while, I sense his hips moving back to meet my thrusts, so I pick up a little speed, pulling out more each time, striking at different angles. His groans get louder, and his language gets more colorful, and I know the exact moment I find his prostate.

“Jesus, fuck me. God, Maggie…ugh.” I’m not sure if that was a prayer or a request for more, but I take it as the latter. Grabbing on tight to his hips, I slam into him harder. Seeing the way his body reacts to the powerful thrusts makes my clit pulse and my thighs grow even more moist.