Page 32 of Begging for Mercy
Her eyes flutter closed as she bites her bottom lip, not saying anything to deny it. She shakes her head, but I can’t tell what she’s objecting to. The accusation, my touch, or this entire situation.
What it is, is fucking bullshit.
“You can’t be a virgin,” I snap, rubbing her clit with the heel of my palm. Kane will lose his goddamn mind if she’s a fucking virgin. Mercy whines loudly, and I quickly cover her mouth with my other hand. She’s too sensitive. Toofresh.Growling, I bury my face in her hair so that I don’t have to see how flushed her cheeks are. The only solution is to make sure that she’s experienced enough to throw off Kane’s trail until she loses her virginity. If she sleeps with Sam—her alleged lover—the problem will be solved. “Stop squirming,” I order, unable to ignore the way her body presses against mine. Heat stirs deep in my gut, and it takes every ounce of my being to ignore it.
But none of this is about me. It’s aboutherand how goddamn inadequate she is.
I lessen the pressure on her clit and rub her sensitive nub with my fingertips. She exhales harshly against my palm. “That’s it,” I coax, “relax. It’ll feel better.” Taking a deep breath, I steel my resolve and press my lips against the shell of her ear. “I’m going to make you come on my fingers, Kitten.”
She grips my arm so tightly that her nails dig into my skin, but she doesn’t actually protest. Her hips rock in a subtle, slow roll, and her breath catches in her throat.
“What a dirty little virgin you are,” I rasp, chuckling. “Youwantto come, don’t you? Sam couldn’t get you off, huh?” I click my tongue. Figures that lover boy sucks in the sack. “Don’t worry, this will be our secret.” I drag my fingers through her slick folds before sliding two inside her heat. She gasps, and I clench my jaw as I bury my fingers to the hilt.
I haven’t fingered a girl in alongtime, but Mercy’s inexperience works in my favor, because she can’t tell that I’m nearly as inexperienced as she is.
She mutters something beneath my palm, but I have no interest in listening. “Shh,” I murmur, closing my eyes.Fuck, she’s still so tight. “Relax, Mercy.” I drag my nose along the curveof her neck and inhale the scent of her sweat and what little remains of her sweet perfume. “Don’t think. Just feel.” It takes a minute, but I find the spot I’m looking for. As soon as I rub it, she gasps and claws at my shoulders. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark.
“Doesn’t that feel good?” I groan as her pussy gets wetter.
Itdoesfeel good.
Foolishly, I let myself enjoy the moment, building her pleasure slowly and making it last. By the time she clamps around my fingers and comes, I’m drenched in sweat and trembling nearly as much as she is. I slip my fingers from her core and hold them up for us both to see. They glisten with her desire, the pads pruned, my entire hand slick from her needy pussy.
Our eyes meet, and I’m suddenly weightless.
She gently detaches from my shoulders, and I slam back into my body long enough to realize how much of a necessary mistake this was. Kane wouldn’t be able to stop after that, butIcan. Swallowing hard, I take a step away from her and run a hand through my hair.Shit, that’s the hand I touched her with. I can smell her pussy all over my body, which means that Kane will, too.
Without another word, I retreat to the shared bathroom in the hallway and scrub my hands—my arms—my neck—every visible surface of my skin. When that isn’t enough, I pull my shirt off and dunk my head in her shower, grabbing her shampoo to scrub myself clean. The memory of her lingers, but the physical evidence is gone. That’ll have to be good enough.
Mercy stares from the open doorway, her lips pinched and her eyes angry.
I flick water from my hair and frown back at her. “What?”
“Glad to know my pussy’s sodisgusting.” She scoffs haughtily. “If it’s good enough for your brother, why isn’t it good enough for you?”
My brain processes her words at half speed. Is she…upset?
Fucking virgins.
Rolling my eyes, I towel dry my hair. “Get over yourself. Me fingering you has absolutely nothing to do with me.”
She fumes. “I’m sorry, since when does getting a girl off mean that you’re not interested in her sexually?”
Jesus fucking Christ, she even talks like a virgin.
“I’m not like most guys.” I throw the towel at her and put on my t-shirt. “Not everything is about getting my dick wet.”
Her gaze travels down to my crotch. Yeah, I’m half-hard, but that doesn’t mean shit. It’s not a compliment or an insult. “I’m built differently,” I try to explain, growing frustrated. I’ve never had to explain myself to anyone before. No one’s ever needed to know. “Look, I won’t have sex with you. It’s not about you or your body or anything. Don’t take it personally.”
Blushing furiously, she wrings the towel in her hands. “How can I not? The first guy to touch me didn’t even enjoy it.” Tears pool in the corner of her eyes, but she holds her breath to keep them at bay.
Sighing, I drag my hand down my face.
Yeah, still smells like pussy.
“It’s complicated.” When that answer doesn’t suffice, I grit my teeth and try to force myself through the other half of the truth. “I didn’tnotenjoy it. You’re a beautiful girl, Mercy, and my half-chub is a testament to that. I don’t…” I growl in frustration. I don’t owe her an explanation, so why do I feel the need to give her one? “I don’t sleep with women, okay? I don’t sleep with anyone.” Avoiding her gaze, I shrug. “So when I say that I’m not going to have sex with you, it’s not about you. Really.” I can feel her gaze burning into my skull.
“You’re not joking.”
