Mercy Sara Cate Quotes

we judge what we don’t understand.

My point is that as long as you’re happy, who cares if you follow convention. What other people think doesn’t matter.

I never understood the idea of your person until now. That one other person who can make you feel comfortable, at peace, loved, and appreciated all at the same time.

But I take my punishment in stride. There’s something strangely gratifying that comes with getting what you deserve. Because, once I’ve paid the price, I don’t have to live with the guilt anymore.

Give me a fucking break.

Beau doesn’t just let me be myself, but he loves me for it.

Pure, unfiltered Beau eye contact is potent.

We need each other in a way that makes it impossible to imagine life without the other now.

Rule #8: Watch porn…for research.

Getting a strange black box from your Domme is never really a good sign because you never know if it’s a reward or a punishment, but I’m too curious to resist.

But he never had a sharp tongue like you. Hold on to that. It’s going to get you in trouble, but trouble is half the fun.

Emerson would have my head if he knew what I had planned for his son, but with his track record, he really has no room to talk.

My age doesn’t bother you? You’re thirty-four, not eighty. Stop trying to make it a problem.

Does the idea of inflicting pain on others excite you?” My mouth forms the word no, but I hesitate for a moment too long. “Oh…” Mia jokes when she notices me pausing.

I bought you something.” When his face falls into a mix of dread and worry, I laugh. “It’s not bad, I promise.” “Your gifts usually hurt.

On her feet are black stiletto heels that I would gladly let her step on my face with. And I’d still say thank you.

I roll my eyes. I can hold my tongue and watch what I say, but I can’t be held accountable for what my face does.

Sometimes letting go is a show of love, and it’s probably the hardest one.

We deserve better than the world we were born into,

Being a brat is only fun for so long because sometimes the punishment really fucking sucks. My ass is still sore and bruised with the proof of that fact.

Because I don’t know a single woman who would feel comfortable giving away that information without it feeling exploitative. The minute we admit we’re the least bit kinky, men take it as a personal invitation to overstep.

I’m not perfect, by any means. But I want to be…for you. I’ve never been in love before,” he says, and my breath hitches. “I thought I was. But it never felt like this. I never wanted to be better for anyone. Maggie…my heart is yours. Do whatever you want with it.

I’m not talking about a date. I’m talking about fucking. Just a hookup. You’ll be in control. You can tell me to do whatever you want. Use me. You want me to lick your pussy for two hours straight, I will. You want to strap me to your bed and ride my dick like a bicycle, you can.

That can’t possibly be what turns me on. Watching porn is a lot like opening a bottle of wine. Once you’ve popped that cork, you have to just see it through and drink the whole thing. Can’t let it go to waste. Or at least that’s the justification in my mind when I return to my couch.

I am not jealous because nothing will happen with her,” she says possessively, and I grin down at her. “Yes, ma’am,” I reply. “You’re mine, Beau Grant. Do you hear me?” She’s leaning in, about to press her mouth to mine again. I bring her closer, feeling her breath against my lips as I reply, “Yes, ma’am.

And I have absolutely no intention of getting caught up in some romantic hostage situation like you’ve gotten yourself entangled in at the mercy of a woman who refuses to let you go.” Leaning back in his office chair, a slow, lazy grin stretches across his face. “Oh yeah…it’s terrible,” he replies sarcastically.

I’m thirty-four, and I see you’re twenty-two. So maybe before this conversation goes any further, we should just get that out of the way. K

No wonder Beau has been wreaking havoc with that smug ego of his—he’s been carrying that thing around this whole time.

You’re glad you were a terrible boyfriend?” “No,” I stammer, “I’m glad you found him. I’m glad you’re marrying my dad, I guess. Fuck, this is weird.

Her eyes widen, and I take that to mean yes. “He was very mad.” “He’ll get over it,” I reply bluntly. “Beau…” “I’m serious. He will. I had to get over him and Charlie. He’ll get over me and you. He doesn’t have a choice.

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.

Whether he knew it or not, that smile of his is more powerful than he realizes. With one lopsided grin, Beau can make a woman forget her own name. Forget she has a boyfriend. Or convictions. Pure, unfiltered Beau eye contact is potent.

I never understood the idea of your person until now. That one other person who can make you feel comfortable, at peace, loved, and appreciated all at the same time. This whole time I thought my friends were crazy, but now I get it. Charlie is Emerson’s person. Beau is mine.

The only thing that bugs me is you thinking that my love and support for you has anything to do with masculinity. You think I care about how submissive you are to your partner? You think a real man can’t be submissive? Then I’ve failed you as a father, and that bugs me.

I just wish you’d be honest with me. Tell me what a fuck-up I am,” I mutter, already knowing what he’s about to say. “You’re not a fuck-up, Beau. You think I had my shit figured out at twenty-two? No. I had a shitty job and a loveless marriage. But I also had you, so don’t tell me about feeling like a fuck-up, because, trust me, I know.

If the mean nurse comes back and tries to yell at me for it, I don’t care. There’s only one woman I listen to anyway.

I love you for your bravery and conviction, Beau, but if it comes down to letting those assholes win, so we don’t lose you, then I’d let them win every fucking time.

It takes him completely by surprise as I step up to him, throwing an arm out for a hug and pulling him tight against my chest. He squeezes me back, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from getting choked up. Then the asshole has to quietly mumble, “You’re a good man, and I’m so proud of you,” and it all goes to hell.

Watching porn is a lot like opening a bottle of wine. Once you’ve popped that cork, you have to just see it through and drink the whole thing. Can’t let it go to waste. Or at least that’s the justification in my mind when I return to my couch.

He looks up stunned before I continue. “You fucked his ex-girlfriend. You just married her! You pretend like Beau is so delicate and breakable, but you didn’t hesitate to stomp all over his heart a year ago.

My teeth are clenched as I glare at him, heat and anger mixed with adrenaline, creating a lethal combination of no fucks given. I’m tired of tiptoeing. I’m tired of asking for permission or forgiveness. The days of making myself as small and as quiet as possible are over.

I want her. I want to seduce her. I want to make her mine. I want to have Briar Goode at my mercy and in my bed. Then I want to see the look on Caleb’s face when he finds out. It’s funny, really. I’ve only wanted two people in my entire life. The first time, it was his brother. And now, it’s his wife.

All I have is voices in my head telling me that sex is shameful and wrong, and even if my rational brain can admit how ridiculous that is, indoctrination runs deep.

I’ll cast a Ray of Douche-ness on him. Make him roll a restitution check.

Don’t you dare say a word, Mia!” “I won’t,” she calls back. “But I bet that within six months, you’ll be the kinkiest person in this club!

Watching porn is a lot like opening a bottle of wine. Once you’ve popped that cork, you have to just see it through and drink the whole thing. Can’t let it go to waste.

It’s hot as fuck watching you boss people around like that.

I would have never watched this before. But now it’s taken on a new meaning. Instead of just watching her, I’m imagining how it would feel to be her. And I love it.

At what point does unconditional love become…conditional?

How the fuck did I get here? I can’t believe I just did that. If you told me two months ago I’d be getting railed by anyone, let alone my dad’s co-worker at Salacious on his wedding day, I’d tell you that you smoked a bad batch.

Fuck it. Let’s tell them. And then immediately move away so they can’t kill us.

She’s fierce, sexy, fearless. She’s me. This is what Beau sees.

So, what do I do?” I ask. It’s only slightly weird that we’re having this deep conversation while I’m cuffed to the wall in my underwear.

I’m not sorry for making my friend’s son my sub—I’m honored. This man is mine.

How can you tell the difference between a nerd and someone into BDSM?” Wait…what? My brow furrows as I stare at him. In fact, everyone is staring at him with the same look of confusion. The tension is growing uncomfortable as we collectively wait for him to explain what the hell he’s talking about. Leaning one arm on the back of my chair, he looks up at the group with a proud smile as he says, “Ask them what a Dungeon Master is.” A joke. He was telling a dirty joke…to take the attention off of me.

And nothing on that list could be crazier than anything we’ve done. Isabel is getting railed by two guys at once. I’ve been auctioned off at Salacious in my underwear, and Mia…well, Mia clearly has no shame.

There’s a good chance half the people here just came to get a front-row seat to the biggest live-action soap opera story in Briar Point. Millionaire club owner steals girl from his own son.

Not all marriages end in divorce, Beau. Not all relationships are bad. Some couples don’t work and some just do. Even if you think they don’t make sense or they come from different places or are different ages, when you meet someone that wants what you want, it just fits. Someone who makes being you a little easier. When you find that person, you’ll know.

My entire identity has been completely altered by him, all of my worth reprogrammed for him.

You weren’t ever embarrassed?” I ask. “To own a sex club.” Her hand rests on my chest as she lets out a sigh. “No. I felt like I was taking back something that was stolen from me. And I wasn’t going to let them shame me anymore.

It’s been less than a week since we had sex, but it’s painfully clear now we would have been miserable if we tried to do the long-distance thing. We need each other in a way that makes it impossible to imagine life without the other now.

If you had told me three months ago this would happen, I would have told you, you were crazy. I never saw love in the cards for me. I couldn’t imagine fitting with someone the way I fit with Beau. We’re an unlikely and ridiculous couple, but that’s what makes us all the more perfect for each other. Beau doesn’t just let me be myself, but he loves me for it.

We’re just gonna talk about the sex clubs we own like it’s no big deal now. Weird how things come around. This is definitely going to take some getting used to.

You’re my best friend, kid.” She stares at me with a skeptical expression. “That’s really sad for you,” she replies, and I laugh. “Probably, but that’s okay.

And that’s it. All the hugs have been had, and the goodbyes have been said. I look at Maggie, just as she looks back at me. I’m so ready to get into the car and go, as if the rest of our lives is somewhere on that highway. There’s not a thread of uncertainty there anymore.

I never understood the idea of your person until now. That one other person who can make you feel comfortable, at peace, loved, and appreciated all at the same time. This whole time I thought my friends were crazy, but now I get it. Charlie is Emerson’s person.

And maybe I’m making this assumption too fast, but everything about the way he’s standing here now, staring down at me with a smirk and a willingness in his eyes says…this guy wants to be my fuck boy, and God help me…I want to let him.

My brat,” I add. “Yes, your brat.” “Tell me you’re mine.” “I’m yours,” he answers without hesitation.

Good. Now, don’t come up for air until I pull you up, understand?” “Yes, ma’am,” he whispers.

All I know is that I am hers—in all the ways. And I did not see that coming.

I squeeze her tighter, hoping I leave bruises. Not because I want to hurt her, but because I want to mark her.

Everything about our relationship is doomed, but for some reason, I’m still hanging on.

first of all, relax. It shouldn’t be work. It’s supposed to be fun.

if I thought he looked beautiful a moment ago as he submitted to me verbally, it doesn’t hold a candle to the way he looks when he’s kneeling for me. And it’s not so much about the warmth in my belly or the moisture in my panties, but something else. A tenderness. The all-consuming desire in my chest to protect him, nurture him, keep him. Make him mine.

he creeps toward me in a position that should be humiliating, but is somehow sensual and sublime.

He wouldn’t kneel for anyone, and because of that, his masculinity is safely intact. He can sleep well at night, knowing he’s properly being a man. It’s not toxic masculinity when it comes to him, it’s just a shit-ton of it. And he has a woman who loves him for it.

Nice on the outside. Fucking terrifying on the inside.

Does that turn you on? Punishing me? Heat blossoms in my belly. Yes. Does it turn you on? Yes. Makes me want to be bad.

You’re crazy. I’m a little scared of you right now. Good. Then maybe you’ll behave. Maybe. ;)

How surprising it is to see her facade transition from overstimulated and distracted to confident and collected

it turns me on when she packs away that sweet and timid version of herself and really lets the bossy bitch take over. It’s hot as fuck.

I can’t exactly put into words how this news makes me feel. Weirdly irritated with him. And strangely proud at the same time. I’ve looked up to my dad my entire life, and I’ve spent the entire time comparing myself to him. Who could live up to that? Maybe he should have let me see him fuck up. If I ever got the chance to see my dad as a real person and not as the hero he tried to be, I wouldn’t feel like the letdown of the century.

For the Domme inside us all

It’s not like I thought Charlie was the fucking love of my life or anything. We broke up. She was too needy and wanted way too much from me…which I guess, looking back, was literally the bare minimum

Sex is still sex. Even when it’s bad, it’s still good.

Beau is gorgeous in those fitted jeans and a tight polo shirt that shows off the impeccable shape of his muscled shoulders, but he knows how gorgeous he is and that’s what kills his appeal. If only he finished off the look with a touch of humility, he’d be a ten.

People judge what they don’t understand,” I say. “And that’s not an excuse. It’s just a fact.

I’m falling for my friend’s son. And it didn’t happen slowly. We collided like two stars moving in the same direction for longer than we knew. There was no changing course or avoiding it. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But there’s no going back now.

She looks like heaven—if heaven was a filthy sin.

He wants to see my pleasure, and I don’t feel the need to hide it anymore.

Maggie

I’m not an idiot—I know this is going to hurt, but pain has always enticed me. I want to feel it in the same way most people fear it. Like a fuse about to reach the dynamite, I need the pain to give me the release I’m looking for. I crave the explosion.

I swallow, loving the way those words sound on his lips. A little harshness and coldness on his usually kind and warm demeanor. God, I hope he does. The idea of coming so much I beg for mercy sounds nice, but what I really want is him. For him to lose control and not be able to help himself anymore. With that, I set my shoulders and smile. “I’m ready.

Rule #1: Wizards are dickheads.

You shouldn’t have done that,” she says, and I’m already leaning back in again as I reply. “Then punish me for it.

A good sex joke can get you out of any uncomfortable situation.

Why? I give great dating advice.” She laughs. “Your ex-girlfriend is now dating your dad, so…

What kind of older brother would I be if I let you go to D&D night without me?” “Technically…I’m closer to being your step-aunt.

have absolutely no intention of getting caught up in some romantic hostage situation like you’ve gotten yourself entangled in at the mercy of a woman who refuses to let you go.

What I want when I stare at her like this, with power so visceral it scares me…is to degrade her. I can’t explain why, but I see this perfect, beautiful thing and I want to ruin it.