Page 57 of Mercy


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Grabbing my phone off the counter, I turn off the vibration and close out the app. By the time I come back upstairs with his water, he’s drifting off. Lying on top of the covers, the towel is draped over his midsection, so I gently lift it away and toss it on the unused exercise bike to dry. Then I pull a thick blanket from the basket in the corner and lay it over him.

“Sit up. Drink something.”

With a sigh, he scoots up the pillow and takes the water from my hand.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

He shrugs in response. “Good.” And I expect that to be it, but he seems almost in a daze as he continues, “I mean…it sucked, but I did it. And I feel better now. Like I…made you proud.”

I bite back my smile. “You did make me proud.”

He passes me back the water, and I place it on the nightstand. Then I set a sandwich on his lap. “Eat.”

I didn’t give him any breaks today, so I know he’s starving. As he picks it up and takes a bite, I stroke his wet hair out of his face. I want to say something, but the words get caught on my tongue. I’m not so good at the praise stuff, but I’m dying to tell Beau just hownot badhe is. As much as I was punishing him, I think he was really punishing himself.

I just don’t think we’re there yet. I can be firm, and I can wield control, but I’m struggling with the softer things. And I desperately want to be softer for him.

Instead, I settle next to him on the bed, so at least I’m near him. We’re not exactly in the scene anymore, so it would be weird for me to touch him, no matter how much I want to.

When he’s finished his sandwich, I take his plate and go down to the kitchen. By the time I return, he’s out cold. For some reason, I find myself standing here for far too long, watching him sleep.

I really didn’t think he would go through with that today. I saw the power battle coming, but I figured he’d safe-word his way out of the punishment. To be honest, I don't even know where we’d go from there.

But he did it. He suffered through my cruel torture, and with minimal complaining. It’s weird that I’m so proud of him for this, but I am.

I took him to his limit today. I pushed him past his comfort zone, and I think he found out something about himself in the process. I know I did.

I learned that Ilovemaking Beau pay for his misbehavior.

And I love the idea of taking care of him afterward.

This is more of that stupid tenderness talking, and I need to be very careful here. I could see myself falling for the one person I shouldn’t, especially since there is no way in hell Beau would ever feel the same way.

Rule #19: Don’t flirt with other women in front of your Domme.

Beau

“Aren’t bridal showers supposed to be only for women?” I whisper to Maggie with a grimace.

She and I are, once again, stationed outside the throng of people, this time along the fence line of my dad’s pristinely landscaped backyard. Somewhere in the middle, Charlie is gleefully unwrapping presents she doesn’t need, while my father stands in the crowd watching with a smug grin.

“Well, Emerson and Charlie don’t do things the old-fashioned way,” she replies quietly.

“Sounds like an excuse to have another stupid party.”

She laughs, picking at the vegetables on her tiny party plate. “Maybe it is.”

I glance sideways at her. It’s weird being out together like this, although we had no trouble hanging out at the last party. The urge to call herma’amand do what she says is still there, but for now, we’re just unlikely friends.

As far as ourotherweird relationship, I’ve noticed recently that Maggie’s been holding back. I don’t know if she’s nervous or afraid, but something is keeping her from doing what she really wants with me. It’s been almost two weeks since the Orgasm 500, and she’s been taking it easy on me ever since.

Not to mention…it’s also been two weeks since I came at all. I didn’t even know this was possible, but every night she sends me home, telling me I’m not allowed to come, and every day I follow her rules. She’s training me—I know. It’s discipline, something I desperately need, so I’m not putting up a fight about it, but I can feel the tension between us growing. And I’m ready for what comes next.

I haven’t seen a glimpse of her body at all. I expected there to be a lot more finger-fucking and face-riding, but what am I going to do? I’m the sub. I can’t suggest anything or force her to do it.

For the most part, I like this whole submissive thing a lot more than I expected. I’m sleeping better than usual. I don’t feel so stressed all the time anymore.

Every morning, I show up at her house, and I do exactly what she tells me to. Usually, it’s work around the house, but if I had one complaint…it’s that there’s not enough sexy stuff.

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