Page 26 of Begging for Mercy
I offer a polite smile but quickly grab Mercy’s hand and lace our fingers together. I’m not here to see Abby like she thinks. This is a business meeting.
Well, business with a dash of selfish curiosity on my part.
“This is Mercy, my girlfriend.” I squeeze Mercy’s hand, but thankfully she plays along, swaying her body into mine. “Mercy, this is one of the cheer captains, Abby. She said she’ll help us with our research project.”
Abby pouts. “I said I would helpyou, Sam. I didn’t realize you were bringing someone with you.” Sighing, she takes a key from the lanyard around her neck and gestures for us tofollow her. “I could get into serious trouble for this.” We walk down a short hallway until we reach a back office. The walls, bookshelves, and desk are completely bare save for a desktop computer. “We’re still waiting on the new hire, so you can use this desk. I already logged in for you.” Lingering close, she brushes her hand over my chest and bats her eyelashes. “You owe me.”
I remove her hand and take a step back, bumping into Mercy. “I’ll hook you up for your next exam. PolySci, right? Still can’t pass?”
Abby’s face flushes crimson. “It’s a hard class, okay?” She turns an ugly glare on Mercy. “I betshecouldn’t pass.”
“Actually,” Mercy interjects, stepping up beside me. “I have a 4.0 GPA. What’s yours?”
I damn near laugh out loud. I know for a fact that Abby’s GPA is in the lower 3s. It’s fine for undergrad, but she’ll have a tough time getting into a graduate program without boosting her GPA, which I can also help her with. “Text me your class list,” I offer, “and I’ll ask around the frat for help. I think John is a PolySci major. You know John?” I give a brief description, embellishing a few details for Abby’s benefit.
She perks up, albeit reluctantly. “Thanks, Sam,” she murmurs, quieting down. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Thanks.” I close the door behind her and spin around to find Mercy already typing away on the keyboard. Placing my hand on the back of her rolling chair, I peer over her shoulder. “You don’t waste any time, do you?” She types in the nameKane, pulling up a list of every senior-level student enrolled with that name. There are at least three hundred. “You’ll want to cross-reference with Reaper, but uh, there’s a typo. His name is Zane.”
Mercy grunts. “Reaper’s nameisKane.”
Kane and Zane? “What kind of names are those? Are they twins?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” She clicks the filter icon and tries different settings. “But you know how we are about names around here. You lucked out with Sam.”
Being named after my father—Samuel Wright—hardly feels like good luck. “Samson sucks just as much as Zane and Kane, thank you very much.” I spin her chair around so that she’s facing me instead of the screen. Her warm, auburn eyes travel down my body until they stop at my crotch, eye-level to her from this height, reminding me of theotherreason why we’re here. I place my hand on my belt and tug the strap. “But a name like Mercy…” The leather unbuckles, and I unsnap my fly. “She’s the lucky one. She can get whatever she wants.” I pause with my hand on my zipper. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, but my cock sure does want to. It twitches with anticipation. “Do you still want to see it?”
She bites her bottom lip and flicks her gaze up to mine, making it impossible not to imagine what it would feel like to have her hands on my body instead of mine. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“Positive.” I unzip my jeans and lower them a few inches. “Ready, baby?” The endearment slips out, but she doesn’t bat an eye, blushing as she nods.
“Yes.”
I pull my dick out slowly, stroking it a few times to get it hard. It grows within seconds, turning rock hard in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, I don’t know what to do. Did she want me to jerk off or just show it to her? My throat clicks on a swallow. “So, um, not all dicks are alike.” I lift my cock to show her the underside, drawing her attention to the line that stems from shaft to tip. “But they all have this part, and the underside of the head—” I stroke my thumb as I describe the spot. “Is usually very sensitive.” Pleasure coils in my gut, and I draw a deep breath. “Sizes and shapes can vary. Some are thicker than others, orlonger, or curved. There’s really no ‘one size fits all’ situation. They feel different too, when they’re inside. So I’m told.” The tips of my ears heat as I rub the head next. “I’m circumcised, so you don’t have to do anything to reveal the head, but some guys have foreskin that covers it at first.”
Shit, does she know this already? Did she pay attention in sex ed?
“I’m rambling,” I groan, staring at my dick in my hand and suddenly feelingverystupid. This isn’t sexy at all—it’s ridiculous that I thought it would be. Giving Mercy an anatomy lesson—real sharp, Sam. “You can just, uh, look. All you want.” I take a step back and hop up onto the edge of the desk beside the computer monitor.
Mercy looks between my cock and my face like she’s undecided which she should speak to. “Thanks.” Her smile helps me relax. “I will.” She goes between glancing at my cock and staring at the monitor in small doses, clicking through the menu options and looking back at me while the information loads. Once she’s done researching Kane and Zane—which I have absolutely no clue if it was successful or not—she rolls her chair closer to me. Grabbing my knees, she pries them further apart and gets a better look, turning her head to view my dick at different angles.
“You can touch me,” I murmur, taking her hand and gently sliding it up my thigh. The barest touch is torture, the warmth of her palm burning my skin through my jeans. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I emphasize this by giving my shaft one long, steady stroke. “I’m content just like this.”
Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she looks up at me beneath those gorgeous, curved lashes. “Show me what to do.”
Oh, dear lord, heavens above.I’m going to the fiery pits of hell after this. Straight down to the very bottom with the dregs of society, every single one of us perverted, greedy, twisted souls.
Because I do exactly as Mercy asks. I show her how I like it. Wrapping her hand around my length, I cover her hand with mine and stroke slowly, building pressure as we glide over the head. I hold in a groan and lean back on the desk to give her a better vantage point. “See how—” my voice catches—“there’s liquid at the tip?” I rub her thumb over my slit, gathering my precum on her fingers. “Now spread it down—yes, like that—” She flicks her thumb over the tip and rubs my precum beneath the head, exactly where I showed her was sensitive, and I have to hold my breath.
My heart feels like it’s going to explode.
Mercy lowers her head and inhales. “It smells different.”
Fuck. Me.
“Yeah,” I rasp, swallowing hard. “It’ll get thicker, too, when I’m close. You should be able to feel it.”
Her eyes dilate the tiniest degree, and I can practically taste her curiosity. “Are you close now?”
