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My body jerks and the corners of his mouth curl slightly.
I need to say no, I want to say no. But those devious eyes are on me as he catalogs each physiological reaction.
Mercer presses a little closer to me, his lips against the shell of my ear.
“I think you do. I think you want me to fuck you with my fingers. I think you’ve been craving this for years. Nursing this little fantasy.” He slides his hand between my quivering pussy and my panties. Not a finger, his whole hand. And he continues that little soft stroke, playing a piece of erotic music on my pussy.
“You have. Maybe not intentionally, but it’s been there. And now you’re all grown up, Pollyanna, someone I want to touch. To taste. To own.”
He moves up to my clit, then down along the sides of my outer lips, then the inner ones and up again. A little higher this time, and then down the center. Over and over he does this, making me tremble with pent-up need I never knew existed in my depths.
Mercer isn’t an expert. He’s a master. A virtuoso.
A whimper escapes and he pushes two fingers into me. He strokes me, moving in and out, curling his fingers as he plays me like am instrument. His thumb teases my clit, and I’m practically writhing in my seat.
“Sit still.”
Immediately I stiffen.
“Did you know you’re a submissive? Because you are. And you recognize what I am. Your master, your owner. The thingsI’m going to do to this sweet, hot pussy. To your mouth. Your ass. I’m going to turn you into a masterpiece, strip you down beyond bone. I’m going to make you beg for my cock. You’ll live for me. On your knees, legs open. Wet. Waiting. Needing.”
He continues to work me. His words are crude and so dirty as he describes all the debauched things he’ll do to me. And time and time again he brings me almost to a peak, and then he backs me down until I’m almost begging him. I’m about to shatter and he’s the only one holding all the pieces together.
I want this orgasm so much, so desperately that his command to stay still is the only thing keeping me from thrusting into his hand, from moaning and grabbing him. From giving in to the waves that wash through me but never quite crash.
“Tell me you want it, and I’ll let you come. Beg.”
Something in me snaps again and my world is his fingers in me, his thumb on my clit. His voice, and touch and heat. And the pleasure he has for me.
“I want it. I want to come. Please.”
He brings me right up to that edge again, and then he takes it away like the bastard he is. My pussy aches with hunger, thrumming hard, the dull beat inside almost painful. It needs to shatter. It needs?—
“Please what?”
“Please, Mercer.”
His gaze is hot, cruel, utterly mesmerizing. “Please…”
“Sir.”
I don’t know where the word comes from, but the moment it’s out, I know it’s right. I hate it and crave it at the same time.
“That’s a good fucking little Pollyanna.”
He unleashes, the thrust and curl of his fingers and the stroke of his thumb are suddenly relentless in what I need. The orgasm rolls through me, breaking free, settingfire to every cell of my being. The first wave hits and rocks me, a scream bubbling in my chest.
Mercer’s mouth comes down as I start to open mine. The pleasure rolls upwards into my belly and crashes down in the first of intense waves, and he kisses me, sweet and hard, swallowing my cries.
And in that forbidden yet blissful moment, I know I’m lost without a trace.
FIVE
mercer
Ivy’s mouth is warm,her tongue shy and eager at the same time. She tastes like she smells—a complex mix of sweet innocence and sensuality. I kiss her slow, taking my time to ignite the flames that run deep inside of her. Each nip and tug of her lips, every swirl of my tongue is seduction, the slyest of attacks, the one she never saw coming. And I’m going to enjoy watching her tumble over the edge.
The moans and mewls that would’ve become screams of pleasure are now all mine, swallowed down, infused in me. She kisses me like it’s leading right back to another orgasm.
