Beg For Mercy

Chapter 5: Lyra

I never pegged myself as an exhibitionist, but when Wren slips his fingers into my thong, I stop caring about who might walk in and see my bare-naked ass front and centre.

"We shouldn't be doing this, Wren," I utter half-heartedly, not meaning it at this point.

He ignores me for a second time, briefly annoying me. I am not a submissive woman. I always remain in control of all aspects of my life; business and pleasure alike. With any other man, I would have flipped the switch long before now and taken control, gotten the release I needed, and then left.

But this man. Ugh. He forces my renegade body to rebel against my sensible mind and I can't do anything but let him slip one finger along the seam of my slick slit, to find its way to my pulsing clit.

He expertly circles the small bud, eliciting a wanton moan from my throat. Jesus. This is embarrassing. I'm like a horny teenager being touched for the very first time.

He continues his wicked torture of my most intimate part, showing more skill with one finger than most men have in their entire body. His large hand allows for him to slip one finger inside of me while simultaneously rubbing me off, the added sensation causing my legs to quiver, threatening to give out on me.

"Don't come. Not yet." He demands. I'm surprised to find his authoritative tone turns me on further, eliciting an anticipatory shudder that makes my entire body vibrate.

I voice my protest when he removes his fingers from my underwear to hike my dress up roughly with one hand. The cool air caresses against my heated flesh right before Wren's palm connects with my skin, spanking me hard enough to make me moan with pleasure.

Using his knee, he separates my legs against the wall, and I can hear him undoing his fly. I sneak a peek at him over my shoulder, tensing with desire when he rips a condom wrapper open with his teeth. He sheaths himself expertly with one hand, dropping the packaging between our feet.

Damn, this escalated much further than I ever intended. Usually, I'm classy enough to take a man home before we fuck, but there's not time for that with this guy. My entire body is burning with an unquenched need. I need him inside me now.

"Don't move," Wren demands. Leaving me with my arms still pressed to the wall above my head. With both his hands now free, he pulls my hips out, forcing my back to arch so I'm half-bent over as he positions himself behind me. "Ready for this, Angel?"

All I can do is nod, too pent up to speak actual words.

With a satisfied grunt, Wren braces himself against the wall with one hand. I can barely think as my heartbeat pounds in my ears, drowning out everything but the sound of our laboured breathing. I just want him to let loose; slam into me until I can feel nothing but him moving inside me.

As if he can read my thoughts, Wren sweeps the head of his cock through my drenched centre, and just when I feel the thick tip of it brush against my entrance...

My fucking phone rings.

~*~

The shriek of my ringtone rips me from my lust-filled daze, snapping me back into the real world; a world where I would never let my bare ass hang out in a fucking bar. This is a place I come to regularly, a place where I know the staff by name. But worse than that, the real world is a place I would never let a man's wants overshadow my commanding presence.

"Don't fucking answer it," Wren growls, reminding me my phone is still blaring from between my boobs.

I ignore him and answer, not interested in taking orders from him anymore tonight; that's what got me into this position to begin with.

"Lyra speaking." I duck under his left arm to escape the cage he's created around me with his body.

"Ms. Hart? It's Judy Pritchett." The old bitty is calling me on a Friday night? Seriously?

"Mrs. Pritchett, hello. What can I do for you?" I ask, turning around to see Wren scowling with his member still standing at attention.

Try as I may, I can't hold in the snort of laughter that escapes through my clamped lips. The image of Wren standing in front of me with his chiseled face looking all pouty and his dick out is fucking hilarious. His expression screams man-child, while the rest of him personifies pure, primal male.

"Ms. Hart! Are you listening to me?" Mrs. P screeches in my ear.

"Yes. Yes, I'm listening. I apologize." I say, a smile still plastered across my face as I ogle him shamelessly.

"As I was saying, Mr. Pritchett has changed the locks on the house! I have a right to be there just as much as he does!" The old coot prattles on, yelling in my ear like it's my fault her future ex-husband changed the locks.

I open my mouth to answer her, but then I remember Wren thinks I'm only a law clerk, not a full-fledged lawyer. If I get into the details of Mrs. P's rights in her divorce, he's going to figure out pretty quickly I lied.

"Mrs. Pritchett, I've got to call you back." I cut the call without waiting for her response. I'm going to pay for that later.

When I turn my attention back to Wren, the idiot is still standing there pitching a long-blown-away tent, as if he expects I'm still going to fuck him against the wall opposite a public restroom. I'm feeling much more in control of my body, Mrs. P's shrill voice having effectively closed the doors to my velvet underground.

"If you're finally done, let's finish this, aye?" Wren looks at me expectantly, frustration simmering barely below the surface of his gaze.

"Okay. So here's the thing, big guy. I've gotta run, so..." I point to the door and click my tongue. "This has been fun and everything, but you're gonna have to find someone else to take care of this tonight," I say unapologetically, patting his cock as I walk past him.

Fuck yes. I may be way beyond sexually frustrated, but I feel like a fucking queen for regaining my self-control around him.

"Wait...what? Are you serious? What the fuck?" He sputters in disbelief.

"Maybe see ya around, big guy." I chirp over my shoulder, a shit-eating grin on my face.

~*~

On my way out of the bar, I look for Lex, spotting her and Tyler still wrapped up in each other against the bar. I smile and mouth a goodbye to Marco, who's grinning at me and fanning himself behind them.

Normally I wouldn't leave Lex with a strange man and no way home, but I'd be the world's shittiest wingwoman if I cock-block her now. I opt to shoot her a text instead, reminding her to pin-drop her location to me so I know she's safe.

My guess is I won't be seeing her at home until tomorrow. And since Mr. Blue-Eyes isn't coming with me, I'm considering myself the winner of our little game. As per the terms of our agreement, it seems Lex will deal with Mrs. P after all. Probably for the best anyway, considering I just hung up on her.

"Sucks to be you, babe," I say out loud as I hit send on my text to Lex.

I don't even try to hide the wide grin on my face. Despite my almost lapse in judgement, I won on all fronts tonight, even if Wren had the upper hand for a hot minute. I might be crazy for walking away because he's tempting as hell, but I don't need him to get off.

It's like I said earlier; a battery-operated boyfriend never disappoints. And boy, oh, boy was my BOB getting a workout tonight.