92. Chapter 90
Derek
Emery stares back at me, wide-eyed and nervous.
Her beautiful lips have popped open into a small o, one that begs me to thrust my cock into it.
When she doesn’t move immediately, I relax back into the couch, spreading my thighs as I maintain eye contact.
“By all means, take your time. We aren’t going anywhere. ”
Anticipation heats my veins. The time for discussion is over. A scene has started.
Watching that information roll through her is a show on its own. To see the visible change in her as she lets her guard down, giving herself over to us to use as we please.
Little does she know, tonight will not be about us.
Emery drops her gaze from mine and slowly stands among the maze of our legs. With only slightly trembling hands, she toes off her shoes and turns to face the chunky wooden coffee table, stepping up onto it with her sock-covered feet.
She pauses when she is on top of the table, staring at the TV still paused on Oakley’s face. Hudson reaches forward and scoops up the remote, hitting play twice to remove the delay that built up. Commercials fill the screen as the last few minutes of intermission wrap up.
Slowly, like one of those little dolls in a jewelry box, she turns to face us, hands having disappeared into the cuffs of her sleeves. I fight the need burning up my spine and observe the way she has curled in on herself.
Is she still unsure?
“Baby, look at me,” I demand and bring my hands to the waistband of my pants.
When our gazes collide, I start to work my pants open enough that she can see the fabric of my briefs and the outline of my thickening cock, giving her a visual of how much I want her.
“You have your safe words, but just so that we are all clear, if you use red, only the scene will end. Not us. We will still be here, and we won’t be going anywhere.
You won’t be going anywhere either. And if you need me to get a set of restraints that have a chain long enough to let you move about the apartment but not make it to the door, I can do that for you.
Whatever you need to help you feel safe with us. Do you understand?”
As if I’ve just lifted a massive weight from her shoulders, all the tension leaves her body, and she nods, a hint of her usual beautiful smile on her lips. “Yes.”
I don’t even have to raise an eyebrow before her eyes widen and she corrects herself. “I mean, yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now, what’s your color, baby?” I pull my shirt up a little so that my lower stomach is more exposed and slip my fingers below the elastic of my briefs, fighting the urge to actually take my cock in hand.
Her eyes follow the movement, and her little pink tongue flicks out to wet her lips. “Green.”
This time, when I make my request, I don’t bother hiding my need from her, my voice dipping down low. “Good. Remove your clothes. You will not be asked again.”
This time, she doesn’t hesitate, and her arms cross over her body to remove her hoodie, revealing a pastel blue knit sweater that exposes one shoulder.
So, this is what she wore for the hockey player. That inner darkness pushes forward, but I force it back. Not yet.
The hoodie falls to the floor, and she immediately reaches for the sweater. It rises up her body, exposing her stomach, waist, ribs, and the lacy pink strapless bra, before she pulls her head through it, dark brown hair falling down around her shoulders.
She gets as far as unbuttoning her jeans before Hudson stops her. “Turn around.”
She eyes him curiously before doing as she is told, like the good girl she is.
Her thumbs tuck into the waist at her sides, then she slowly lowers the material down over her hips, having to shimmy a little as it pulls tight over her ass.
The matching lacy pink thong comes into view, but then streaks of heat fill my balls, and I have to clench my fists as I see the thin red lines my cane left across her pale skin last night. And the bite mark.
Her knees start to bend, but Hudson provides her with further direction. “Keep your knees straight.”
She pauses before locking her knees and working her way down her legs, ass popped in the air, the strip of fabric covering her pussy on view for all of us to see. Her movements pause when she gets to her ankles.
Straightening once again, she steps on the jeans with one foot and raises the other until it comes free and repeats for the other side, pushing the pants off the edge of the coffee table.
Raising one foot up toward her ass, she pulls the sock off and does the same with the other until she is facing the TV, watching the hockey players returning to the ice as she stands on our table in nothing but her bra and panties.
Emery glances back over her shoulder at us as she reaches behind herself to unclasp the bra. It falls free of her chest, and she tosses it in the direction of the rest of her clothes. This time, when she starts to remove her panties, she doesn’t need to be told to keep her knees straight.
Those talented little fingers slip beneath the fabric and slowly drag the fabric down her hips, the piece that dips between her cheeks slowly peeling free under the tension.
Leaning forward, she tips from her hips until her cheeks spread enough that we can see her pussy as she lowers the lingerie to below her ass cheeks.
On the screen, the ref has skated out onto center ice, the puck in his hand as he waits for the players to get into position. I glance at the others, whose gazes are glued to Emery, each of them in various stages of getting their pants undone as well.
As the panties make it down to her knees, she straightens and lets them flutter down to the table, gracefully stepping out of them and using her foot to push them off the edge.
William’s line is on the ice for the puck drop, and I wait until his face is on the screen as he squares off against the Basilisks’ forward.
“This is the closest that hockey player is ever going to get to your naked body, do you understand me?” The feral growl makes my throat ache and I know I’m losing the fight to my darker self.
A shiver rolls down Emery’s spine, fingers twitching by her sides. “Yes, Daddy.”
The puck drops, and the camera pans out, but the four of us only have eyes for Emery, just like that first night we met her. The only difference from then to now is that, tonight, we have all our toys at our disposal.
I shift forward and hook a finger into the scrap of lace on top of the pile of clothes on the floor and then close my fist around it and slide back into my seat, ready to officially start my show.
“I think we each need a kiss, don’t you, baby?”