23. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Emery
Cool air on my ass and heavy pressure on my calves barely register as I start to wake up. No, those sensations are overpowered by the relentless buzzing, pushing me toward another goddamn orgasm.
Holy fuck.
“No,” I whimper, rubbing my face into the sheets. “No, no, please, not again.”
The pleasure hurts. My pussy is swollen and hot and wet. So, fucking wet. My clit is fried, the nerve endings not knowing whether this is something they want or not. I have no idea what number orgasm I’m up to for the past twenty-four hours, but I don’t think I want this.
“Please, no. I can’t. It hurts.”
“That isn’t a safe word.” The voice is a quiet rumble, and I recognize it as Xavier’s. Or should I be thinking of him as Hunter? The pressure on my legs shifts, and then something thick is pressing in alongside the vibrator.
Fuck, is that his cock?
Wait, no. Those are fingers. Definitely more than one. Three, maybe?
I gasp. “Oh, shit.”
Xavier begins pumping his fingers in and out of me, his knuckles slamming into the skin between my pussy and ass, over and over. I try to flex my fingers and only just now realize that my hands are trapped against my lower back, Xavier’s other hand acting like a shackle.
I have to work to figure out what the fuck position my body is folded into.
In an attempt to get away from him, I wriggle my hips. Something soft shifts beneath me. A pillow.
Goddamn. This man has me face down, bent over doggy style, pillow beneath my hips, ass in the air, as he sits on my legs and pins my hands to my lower back while he punches his fingers in and out of my pussy.
And I am pretty sure I’m naked. How the fuck did he get my clothes off without me knowing?
His fingers jostle the vibrator, causing it to rock in and out and, by extension, move over my clit.
“Daddy, please,” I beg, dragging out the e , not entirely sure if I am begging for it to stop or for him to keep going.
I’m so wet that I can actually feel it spreading around my entrance and over his hand, the backs of my thighs becoming coated with every pump of his arm.
“We’re going to use this little body all weekend. You’ll be bent over, tied up, restrained, gagged, played with, denied orgasms, fucked, and used until we are done and you can barely stay conscious. This body is ours for the weekend. You’ll walk away baring our marks, your mind filled with the memory of our cocks. We are going to ruin you.”
Definitely Hunter.
The lowly growled words inspire images of all the things I looked up, but the woman is replaced with me.
Restrained on a bed, arms and legs spread out and secured with cuffs.
Tied face-first to a cross, a flogger lashing across my back.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan, my back arching up, pelvis curling in, breasts aching as my pussy pulses around his fingers and the toy. My moan drags on and on, turning into a painful cry as pain overtakes the pleasure of my orgasm.
Suddenly, the vibrating toy and fingers are yanked from me, but before I can relax, Xavier grabs my hips and tilts my ass up until my spine aches from the angle. A hot, wet mouth attacks my entrance, lapping and sucking, tongue twisting into me aggressively, as his five o'clock shadow rubs against everything that is sensitive.
My hands snap up to the bedding by my head, twisting the fabric in my fists. I turn my face into the pillow and scream as the sensations overpower me. I have no idea if this feels good or if it hurts, but I give myself over to the sensation, because that’s what Hunter wants.
Slowly, he eases up. His sucks turn to gentle licks. My hips twitch every time that devilish tongue flicks over my clit.
The ringing in my ears dies down enough for me to hear his dark chuckle. “Are you back with me?”
I nod sluggishly. “Yeah.”
The electronic click of his phone’s camera pierces the quiet of my brain.
He makes a rumbling noise. “Hold your pussy open for me.”
With my brain completely checked out, my body follows his order, and I slowly reach around, fingers digging into the skin on either side of my pussy. Using what little energy I have, I pull until my pussy feels like it is gaping open.
I hear the click again.
“Push out.”
I tighten and push my core, moaning as that causes a core-deep ache.
Another click.
“So, fucking wet. I wonder if we can get you to squirt for us. I think you were close in the car.”
Squirt? What the fuck is that?
“Let go and lie right here. No moving.” There is a soft thud on the bed, then warm hands wrap around my wrists, helping me lower my arms to the bed.
I instantly miss his weight on my legs as he leaves. Wetness cools on the backs of my legs, and if I had the energy to feel embarrassed, I would. My mind wanders aimlessly until it thinks of the other men.
Is Derek in the room? Did he watch all of this?
What about the others? Are they silently standing around the room, staring at my abused pussy?
And why the fuck do those thoughts stoke the ashes of my core?
The sound of rushing water is distant but calming.
I don’t even notice that I am falling asleep until I’m jolted awake by a quiet voice. “Come on, princess. Your bath is ready.”
Arms wrap around me and gently turn me over before lifting me against a chest. I snuggle into Darcy, and his arms tighten around me as a feather-soft kiss is pressed to my forehead.
The cool air transitions to a floral-scented steam, and then I am being lowered. Another set of arms wraps around me as I’m placed into warm water. I’m positioned between legs and encouraged to lie back against a warm chest. Cool glass is held against my lips and a little pressure on my chin forces my mouth open, allowing cold water to rush into my mouth.
After swallowing as much as I can manage, I make a noise and the glass disappears.
“Just relax, princess. Come back to us when you’re ready.”
I do as requested and let myself float, enjoying the platonic feeling of a warm, wet washcloth roving over my skin. Time seems irrelevant, and by the time I do want to resurface, the water is cool and only my human pillow and I are in the room.
Tipping my head back, I look up into hazel eyes.
Hunter stares back at me, his expression blank, giving me zero insights into his thoughts.
The door to the bathroom opens, and my eyes dart to the man there. My mouth pops open at the transformation of Derek.
Bare chested, eyes dark, low slung jeans, with nothing on his feet, he takes up a large portion of the doorway. Seeing that I’m awake, he strides toward the bath, primal lust flowing from him.
Daddy is here.
He crouches down by the bath so that we are at eye level. The way he stares at me makes me nervous to break eye contact, and I know that things are about to change.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low and commanding. “Your pleasure is over for the weekend. It’s our turn. I’m not going to lie to you—this is going to hurt. You might even beg for it to stop. It’s not going to stop. Not until we are done. The same rules as last night apply. You say ‘red’ and it’s over. We’ll help you pack up your things, and you can leave with the cash and gifts you’ve received. But only if you use your safe word. Otherwise, for the next twenty-four hours, you can scream the words ‘no’ and ‘stop’ until your heart’s content, but neither word will have any meaning. Your pain and pleasure are ours until you leave the apartment. Do you understand?”
My heart rate increases with every succinct word that Derek utters, my attention riveted to his face. “Yes.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, displeasure flashing through his eyes.
I tense at my mistake and quickly fix it, hoping it's not too late. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He stands and offers me his hand. “Let’s get you dry, and then our first scene will begin.”
I take his hand and get out of the bath, careful not to step on Hunter. Daddy wraps one of the amazingly soft pink fluffy towels around my body and proceeds to dry me. I hear the plug being removed from the tub and the splash of water as Hunter stands and gets out.
Nervousness rushes through my limbs as the towel is hung and I’m led out of the bathroom. A backward glance connects my eyes with Hunter’s as he stands there drying himself. I’m not sure if I want him to save me from whatever is waiting for me, but the look on his face tells me there is no sanctuary with him.
As we approach the bedroom door, I’m hyperaware of my nudity in comparison to Daddy’s jeans-covered lower body. They look soft and worn in a way that says he has owned them for years. My gaze trails up his back and I gasp.
The left hand side of his back is one giant black and gray tattoo.
With the bathroom light fading to the red glow that fills the doorway, I only manage to make out a naked woman tied to a cross over his shoulder blade, her back a pattern of crisscrossed lines.
I’m distracted from my ogling by the low but heavy bass. The oddness of the quiet in the bedroom, versus the sound on the other side of the doorway, is confusing to my senses.
Daddy blocks my view as we leave the quiet of the bedroom. He turns to face me with a serious look on his face, the red glow behind him enhancing the dominant vibes he is putting out.
“The scene starts now, Emery. You can use your safe words at any time. You must use your safe words the moment they are requested, or everything will stop, regardless of your response. Just like last night, green will keep everything going. Yellow will slow things down. Red will be an immediate end to whatever activity is happening. The scene and the weekend will close. This is your last reminder. Do you understand?”
I nod, nerves tumbling about in my tummy. “Yes, Daddy.”
A smile fights to spread on his lips, but he keeps it back. “Good girl. And Emery? Do not forget that your orgasm restriction starts now. No coming unless we allow it. If you get close, beg. Failure to meet this rule will result in a punishment.”
My heart is hammering in time with the flutters in my stomach. Derek steps into the main space of the apartment, and the reason for him blocking my view becomes clear. The curtains have been pulled back, and the rest of the room is on display.
I try to take it all in, my focus jumping from one thing to another.
An X-shaped, human-size cross is positioned in the center of the far wall.
A padded bed that resembles a doctor's examination table sits to the side of the cross, but it's all black, and there are leather loops hanging from the sides.
A wall full of floggers and paddles. And I mean full —there are at least twenty kinds hanging from hooks, in a rainbow of colors, lengths, and sizes. There are drawers and cabinets placed around the space to create separate areas, all made of dark wood and darker fixtures.
In the corner closest to us is a completely blank space. The only thing that tells me it's a part of the space are the two walls that are filled with lengths of colorful rope. Bars close to the ceiling secure each colored piece, allowing them to hang free to the floor, creating a wallpaper effect.
The bars are what clues me in to where the red glow is coming from. Where the wall joins the ceiling, there is a black curved cover, with red light flowing from behind it. The cover forces the light against and down the wall.
With every new discovery of the space, my stomach tightens and my pulse quickens. There are so many things that I recognize from the research I did, but even more that I don’t. And the crazy thing? The fear and uncertainty about the things that I know nothing about is driving my insides crazy with excitement and interest.
I want to know what all the things are in this room.
I want to be tied down, up, restrained, and driven insane with every one of the tools they house in this room.
I want them to own my pleasure. To make me burn the way they did last night.
And isn’t that a complete mindfuck?