19. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Emery
“Three, two, one.”
The vibe dies down during the last few seconds, and I both hate and love that it’s finally fucking off. The mindfuck is real. Like, it was borderline painful on my clit, but holy shit, I’d wanted it to go on forever.
Pin me down, spread my legs, and vibe that clit for life.
My bones feel like Jell-O. The first orgasm in the fitting room was a-fucking-mazing. But this one? The way they fucked with the settings dragged it way the fuck out. By the time I actually came, my clit was screaming.
Arms scoop beneath my legs, and I’m deposited onto Darcy’s lap. His woodsy scent, tinged with the faint scent of something really clean, aided in my orgasm and now feels like a warm cuddle. Or is that his arms around me?
“You okay, princess?”
I nod, lazily. “Yeah, that was so good.”
He chuckles. “It looked like it was more than good.”
I roll my head back to look up at him. “It was good. Last night’s orgasm was better.”
My mouth goes dry when his eyes darken with lust, just like one of my billionaire book boyfriends.
Hello, Angel.
“You’ll be getting more orgasms like last night when we get back to the apartment. For now, you’ll need to suffer through.”
I pout, feeling a little ridiculous but leaning into it when I see him trying to hold back his smile. “Fine.”
“Can I take your order?”
Dylan is back, her eyes carefully trained on her notepad. I try to get off Darcy’s lap, but his hand clamps down on my thigh and slowly moves up toward my panties.
My clit gives a painful throb, and I become very aware that my panties are wet. Soaked through is probably a better description. I squirm at the uncomfortable feeling. It’s only then that I feel the hard dick under my ass.
Darcy makes a noise in the back of his throat but doesn’t move to stop me. So, I wiggle again.
“We’ll take a classic tomato bruschetta to share,” Derek says. “And I’ll have the grilled Guancia di Manzo.”
Darcy’s hand moves all the way up to my panties, and before I can stop him from touching the wet fabric, he twists his finger under the edge and slides it straight into my still hungry pussy.
“The grilled octopus stracciatella,” rumbles Xavier.
With the toy in the way, Darcy can’t do too much without dislodging it. “These panties are awfully wet, princess.”
I whimper as he crooks his finger, jostling the vibrator just enough to graze my clit.
“The aragosta cocktail for me.”
Hudson’s order barely registers as I rock my hips, which has the added benefit of making Darcy finger fuck me.
Like I’m not grinding all over his lap, Darcy places his order, his voice clear of any strain. “Ravioli Amarticana.” Somehow, he manages to slip a second finger in as he gives my hip a squeeze. “And you, princess? What are you going to eat?”
The fucker continues to slide his fingers in and out of me, and I scramble to think of something. “Spaghetti carbonara, please.”
Dylan can’t get away from our table fast enough, and I don’t miss the way Xavier shoots a look at Derek. Derek simply stares back, and I wish I could understand their silent conversation. But the subtext is flying right over my head, and with Darcy actively pumping his fingers in and out of me, not even trying to be subtle now, I don’t care to work it out.
My entire core is overheated, like it’s questioning whether I really want to start the climb to the top again, when it’s already allowing itself to get hot and bothered.
“Emmy’s panties are soaked,” Darcy announces to the table, and I stutter out a laugh, my cheeks burning as I turn my face into his chest to hide. “I think she should take them off.”
I stiffen and lean back. “W-what? No, I can’t walk around in public with a vibrator inside of me and no underwear on.”
Behind me, there is a growl and I turn, my eyes darting between Hudson and Xavier, unsure who made the noise.
“What makes you think the decision is up to you? If we want you walking around with no panties on, then you take them off and say thank you, daddy while you do it.” Hudson’s voice brooks no arguments.
My mouth snaps shut. Right.
Darcy pumps his fingers into me one more time before pulling them free. He raises them up to his lips, the digits covered in so much wetness, there are thin ropes of it connecting his fingers.
Both fingers disappear into his mouth, and he hums appreciatively before speaking again. “Everyone in favor of Emmy removing her underwear?”
There are four raised hands.
Darcy pats my hip. “Up you go, princess. Remove your panties.”
With a shaky breath—because, fuck, could I get arrested for this?—I stand up between his spread legs and the table. The space is kind of awkward, but I manage to get my hands under my skirt and hook my fingers into my panties.
I feel wetness drag down between my thighs and cringe a little. When I can’t reach any farther down without disappearing beneath the table, I drop the panties to the floor. Using my foot, I bring the panties to my hands, then ball them up, hiding them behind my closed fists.
Darcy pulls me back down to sit on his lap, but on the opposite thigh, so I’m sitting facing toward Hudson and the back of the booth. Then he frees my panties from my grip and drops them in the center of the table for everyone to fucking see. And wouldn’t you know it? The wet crotch lands face up.
Hudson hands Darcy his phone and I see what I assume is the vibrator’s app open on the screen. Brain still a little sluggish from my orgasm, it takes a minute for the situation to become clear. The vibrator is going to be turned on, again. I both want and don’t want more. But, like everything else with the four of them, I don’t seem to have too much of a choice, unless I want to red out.
“Remember, good girls get rewards, princess. Being a brat will only end up landing you in a situation you probably won’t like.” He does something to the app and then the internal vibe turns on, the setting so low, I don’t think it will actually turn me on, but enough that I can feel the gentle hum.
He drops the phone onto the table, forces me to take a sip of my coke, then encourages me to cuddle into him, tucking my head beneath his chin. The action makes me emotional in a warm and thick way. Like melted honey.
Normally, I would think it was gross and shut that shit down. But right now, I just let it wash over me.
If I only get these feelings for the weekend, I’m going to completely immerse myself in each of them.