Page 58 of Begging for Mercy

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Send a pic?

My cheeks burn. Why the hell would he want to see my dick?

You’ve seen it before

KANE

Not like this

Don’t make me beg

I huff, a laugh catching in my chest.

ME

You, beg?

I’ll never see it

KANE

Please

My heart skips a beat.

I like it when you let loose

I want to see it

A picture arrives, but it’s terrible quality. The flash is just bright enough for me to make out a POV shot of Kane’s lower half, his jeans undone and his swollen cock peeking through his open zipper. The tip shines like it’s wet, but the rest is a mystery. He’s outside somewhere, casually taking his dick out to snap a pic.

Unbelievable.

But it makes me sweat.

My cigarette falls from my lips and disappears, long forgotten as I rub my cock over my jeans. Pleasure shoots down my spine. Fuck, I haven’t jerked off in months. My balls ache. Quickly glancing around to make sure I’m alone, I undo my pants and heave a sigh of relief. Mr. Morningstar’s got shit taste, and his clothes are uncomfortable as hell. I shouldn’t jerk off in them, but?—

I can’t help it when I’m staring at Kane’s dick.

Grabbing my shaft, I tentatively stroke up, gasping as electricity rumbles like rain down to my toes. They curl as I stroke again and again, the sigh passing my lips curving into a moan.

My phone vibrates on my chest, and I pause everything to open my texts.

KANE

You’re touching yourself

Aren’t you

Please let me watch

I’m contemplating what to do when another barrage of messages comes through.

KANE

Fuck

Gotta go

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