My breakfast is forgotten.
Hudson has taken over my brain with his filthy words. I imagine sitting at an entirely different table, one with a tablecloth long enough to hide a hand up my skirt and beneath my panties. Or being in a fitting room, with my breasts pressed up against the mirror as one of them rails into me from behind, a hand covering my mouth so that the salespeople don’t hear.
Unintentionally, I roll my hips, needing friction against my clit. The seam of my shorts presses into my clit as Darcy’s hand tightens around my thigh and stops me from moving. “I think Emmy likes the idea of that.”
I bite my lip, cheeks blooming with heat. There is no point in trying to deny it. I want the visuals to become my reality, so I nod as my breathing picks up pace.
They are all staring at me with varying levels of hunger on their faces.
Darcy rearranges his hand on my thigh so that his thumb slips between my tightly squeezed thighs and his fingers wrap around the outside. “Good girl. We want to know what turns you on, so no hiding things from us, okay?” He presses his thumb against my clit, and I gasp, both of my hands gripping his forearm.
“Y-yes,” I stutter as he makes the smallest circular motion known to mankind with his thumb.
“Yes, who?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I get another small circle, and I drop my chin to my chest, trying to withhold the whimper that I’m desperate to make. They still want me to call them Daddy. I hadn’t gotten it wrong last night. They aren’t taking that away. But, we aren’t in a scene? Well, not really. At least they haven’t said that we are? Does this mean I get to call them Daddy whenever the urge to do so hits me?
A pen is placed on the papers in front of me.
“If you’re okay with exploring domination and submission some more, with semi-public scenes and free use, sign and date at the bottom.”
Darcy removes his thumb, and I take several deep breaths to clear some of the fog in my mind. “Free use?” The term intrigues me.
Hudson takes a turn at answering, the words are so lazily said, I don’t quite register them at first. “Having you open and accessible to us, anytime, anywhere. Our very own living and breathing sex toy. The idea is that you won’t say no. If we want it, you offer it willingly. Consensually, of course.”
I stare at him, and he doesn’t break my gaze, not even to blink. With a shaky inhale, I pick up the pen, scanning over the first paragraph about the extension of the contract.
The second is about the semi-public scenes and explains that I can use my safe words at any time. The use of a safe word will stop the scene but won’t stop the outing or the weekend. I must explicitly ask to leave if I don’t want to be at the location anymore. It also states that they won’t put me in a position to be arrested.
That settles something inside of me.
I may have a history peppered with gray areas, but I’ve never been in actual trouble with the cops. Sure, they have been a part of my history, more times than I care to recall, but only to remove and re-place me. Neither to cart me off in handcuffs. Absolutely no need to start now that I have finally taken control of my life.
Picking up the pen, I sign and date across the line, then lower the pen back to the paper. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe this is why Darcy didn’t touch me last night. We only had the contract for our time in the hotel.
Did he need to sleep on the other side of the bed so that he wouldn’t be tempted to touch me?
Before I can finish my mental conversation with myself, the last piece of paper is placed in front of me. It has a table with three columns on it. The first column is labeled Denied Orgasms, the second column is blank, and the third column is Reward.
The first column goes down to twenty, basically the length of the page. In the second column, there are crosses on the first six rows.
I look up at Derek. “Is this a reward chart?”
“Yes.”
“For when I beg to come and you don’t let me?” Holy fuck, is it hot in here? I wiggle in my seat, trying to dispel some of the lust that is clouding my mind, but that only causes Darcy’s thumb to press into my clit again. I tense up and almost bite my lip clean off to keep the gasp inside.
“Yes.” The smug bastard stares back at me, nothing but a knowing, confident smile on his face.
“So, last night, when you said I would be rewarded for every time I asked for permission to come, that wasn’t just an in-the-moment thing you said? I’m really going to get rewards?”
“Yes. You earned six rewards last night. You may earn more over the course of the weekend. We’ll let you know when you are on orgasm restriction.”
I squeeze my thighs together, my core throbbing at his words. Darcy presses down on my clit and this time I can’t control the gasp as heat builds in my core. Swallowing, I try to keep my brain online. “O-okay. Uh, one last question.”
Derek nods for me to go ahead.
“What goes in the reward column?” The motion of Darcy’s thumb is barely enough to stoke the heat growing in me, but it is definitely enough to drive me the tiniest bit insane.
How is he doing this to me? I’ve had my clit played with before—though not often—but it has never, ever felt this good. Usually, it’s a precursor to making me wet enough to slide a dick in or the rare guy who wanted to try and help me loosen up and enjoy myself.
But it was never just to tease me.
“A description of your reward. We’ll fill it in once we have given you the reward so that we don’t ruin the surprise. This will double as a list of everything that you have received from us. These rewards are on top of our SugarLife gifts to you,” Derek explains as he takes the pen and all the sheets of paper back.
Hudson stands and leaves the table, skirting behind Xavier and disappearing behind the black curtain. I track him with my gaze, still trying to listen to Derek, but really, all I am paying attention to is the barely there movements of Darcy’s thumb.
“When you make it to ten, there will be a larger reward. Emmy, are you listening?”
I snap my focus back to Derek. “Yes, sorry.”
He simply stares at me, waiting.
Oh, shit.
“Yes, Daddy. Sorry. I’m listening.”
Darcy’s finger applies a little more pressure.
Fuck. Me.
I can’t concentrate.
Also, what the fuck is behind that black curtain? Is it really like the picture?
“Emmy, last night, you were very good for us, but we need you to know that, if you are on orgasm restriction, there will be punishments if you fail to comply with your restriction.”
I hear the snick of a cabinet opening and then closing behind me.
Darcy squeezes my thigh. “Listen to Derek, princess.” Then he swipes his thumb over my clit with a heavy sweep of pressure.
I gasp. “Yes, Daddy. Punishments if I orgasm when I’m not allowed to.”
“Good girl.”
Pleasure zings through me as the curtain flutters and Hudson slips back onto our side, somehow managing to not even give me a sneaky peek of what is back there. He’s carrying a large black and gold gift bag and places it on the table in front of Darcy.
I look up at Hudson, then back at the gift bag. Am I allowed to take it?
Darcy seems to notice my hesitation and reaches for the bag, slowly pulling it in front of me. “Hudson picked this gift for you.”
My heart is racing for an entirely different reason. I was imagining small rewards, like a book, or maybe a small teddy bear or something. Whatever is in this gift bag is way bigger than a book or bear.
I’ve received gifts in the past, not often and nothing expensive. Usually something from a thrift store—or stolen, if it was coming from Tray.
Whatever is in the bag isn’t going to be from a thrift store or stolen.
Reaching up, I tip the bag toward me to look inside. There is crumpled gold tissue paper covering the top, and I gently remove it. All I see is cream and gold. I’m surprised that my hand isn’t shaking when I reach in and grip the leather handle and slowly pull the reward out of the gift bag.
I hold it up in the air and stare.
Without lowering my arm, I look at Hudson. His face is shuttered, and his hands are in his pockets, the table a barrier between us.
He bought me a backpack.
A cream leather, with gold zippers, clips, and embellishments backpack that I’ve always imagined an it girl would own. It has a cute little gold chain that swoops from one side of a front pocket to the other, and I can envision hanging girly things from it.
I lower it to my lap and run my fingers over the sides, my throat aching and my vision going a little blurry.
Darcy’s hand slips from between my legs and then fingers run down the side of my neck, scooping up my braided hair and moving it away from my face. “Princess, if you don’t like—”
Fear catapults through my chest at him taking my bag away. I hug the bag to my chest and turn to glare at Darcy. “It’s mine.”
His lips twitch, and his gaze flickers up to Hudson before returning to me. I follow his gaze and see Hudson watching me. I place the bag on the table, get up, and walk around the table to Hudson.
He turns to face me, and I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. At first, he doesn’t return the hug, but then I feel him shift and his arms wrap around me.
“I love it,” I whisper into his neck.
His arms tighten around me. “Anything for my kitten.”
