27. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Emery
I tap the screen of my phone, waking it up so that I can see the picture that Xavier took of me two hours ago. Right there, on my screen, is my very red ass with the words “Good Girl” raised up from the rest of the skin, as cum leaks out of my pussy.
The image does something to my insides, making me all squiggly and a little uncomfortable, to be honest.
Good girl.
I don’t really remember the paddle or the blow that gave me this mark, but I know I want it again. As many times as they will give it to me. Daddy assured me it was temporary when I saw it in the bathroom mirror. His words having the opposite effect on me. I think he mistook my shock for worry, and I couldn’t find the words to correct him.
Temporary is not something I want, anymore. But that is what I have signed up for, and putting myself out there and asking for more is not something that I do.
I’d come back to my body on the floor of the shower, lukewarm water flowing over my back as I straddled Daddy's lap. The fire under my skin had dulled some, going from a wild, untamed forest fire to a smoldering campfire. My entire back hummed under the fall of the water, and the wiry hairs on Daddy's legs hadn’t felt amazing against the backs of my abused thighs and ass.
But I’d refused to move. Not for anything in the world.
Even with the discomfort, I had felt safe in his arms. Like the world could go to absolute shit, and he would protect me. Care for me. My Daddy.
Even as I rethink the words now, nearly an hour later, it’s an effort not to snort at myself. This shit isn’t real. It has an expiration date. An expiration time. I’m not sure of the exact minute, but I’m fairly confident the countdown is past the twenty-four-hour mark now.
Daddy is now with Hudson in the kitchen, cooking something that smells amazing, while Darcy and I are lying on some giant-ass pillows on the floor between the TV and the couch. He is wearing jeans and no shirt, while I am buck-ass naked, my back, ass, and thighs with some sort of cooling gel on them. Being so exposed while the rest of them have clothes on is giving me an odd sort of thrill I don’t care to examine too closely.
Well, I have to assume they are all dressed. I have no idea where Xavier is; he was gone when Daddy and I emerged from the bedroom and has yet to return.
I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask where he is.
I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask questions, period.
Like, is this one of those don’t ask because we aren’t going to tell type of situations? Has Xavier disappeared to his real life? Do they have wives and kids waiting for them when they return from their dirty weekend away? Am I merely a distraction from their mundane lives?
Fuck. I wish I could reverse vibrator interrogate them.
I clench my teeth. It doesn’t fucking matter. It’s over tomorrow. This is all a means to an end. They get their kinky rocks off, I—apparently—enjoy it, then I get my cash and leave.
Why the fuck do I have to keep reminding myself of that?
They are not going to keep me. I need to stop thinking they will.
“Hey, princess, where’d you go?” Darcy asks quietly as he shades a section of his drawing.
After the movie playing on the TV didn’t hold my attention for very long, Darcy helped me to reposition myself so that I could draw with the new art supplies he’d purchased for me.
I still feel guilty about that, even though they technically are a reward. I was fine with the cheaper stuff. Whenever there have been art supplies available for me to use, it’s usually the shit stuff from a dollar store. So, even the cheaper graphite and paper from an actual art supply store are worlds above what I normally use.
It’s why I quickly learned how to use lead pencils. Everyone always has basic lead pencils. Plus, they are easy to take home from school. I may have been short on everything else in my life, but never paper or lead pencils. Even if the quality was crap.
When the scratching of pencil on paper stops, I glance up, and my gaze collides with Darcy’s worried one. “Are you dropping, princess?”
“Dropping?” I ask, and I have to fight to keep my voice even.
“Sub-drop. Spiraling down, feeling sad, feeling angry, any negative thoughts or feelings,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet and just between us. “It can happen after a scene. It happened last night, do you remember? After everything and you were dressed, we were trying to talk to you about extending the contract and you dropped.”
I bite my lip, because, yeah, I remember spiraling last night. But last night was different, wasn’t it? It was my first time doing the things we did, the way we did them. I should be better at it today, right?
I shrug a shoulder and return to my drawing. “I don’t think so. Just thinking about things.”
“Care to share?” His pencil restarts its scratching against the paper.
I dart a look at him, but with his face tilted down at his sketchbook, all I see is the crown of his head and the top of his messy man-bun. While I desperately want to ask about Xavier, I stuff that question all the way down in the back of my throat. So far back that not even their cocks can reach it.
“I would have been fine with the cheaper pencils, you know. I’m used to drawing with the number two pencils from school.” I glance at the metal tray, with its fancy lid holding my brand-new set of graphite pencils. The only time I have ever gotten close to a set like this was during my lunch period when I would go hang out in my art class with Mrs. Mitchum in high school.
We’d sit and draw together while we ate. She taught me how to use drawing pencils and charcoal sticks and how to use natural charcoal to create white spaces and highlights.
I haven’t seen Mrs. Mitchum in weeks. Not since graduation.
She is the only person from my old life that I miss. And as much as I want to go and see her, I can’t risk going back there. She’d told me so the last time we said goodbye. She’d helped me to come up with my exit strategy.
Leave, and don’t come back. Chase your dream, Emery. Chase it hard and chase it fearlessly. You are meant for better things than this life. Don’t let Tray drag you down with him.
Fuck, I miss her.
My throat burns with the tears that I’m holding back.
Damn, maybe I am dropping.
I sniff and give in to the urge that suddenly surges over me and I realize has been gently pushing at my mind for a while now. “Daddy?”
Darcy’s head pops up, and I know he can hear my sadness because the look on his face is a mix of worry and concern. “What do you need, princess?”
“Can I have a cuddle, please?”
He doesn’t even question me, simply stands and hoists me into his arms. I cling to him like a koala, wrapping my arms and legs around his body. His hands on my ass cheeks reignite the dull ache in my skin, but I don’t care. I squeeze him tighter.
“Going to sit on the couch. Let me know if it hurts too much, and I’ll find a better way.” He takes a step back and lowers until I’m straddling him the same way I was straddling Daddy in the shower.
Darcy shifts until he is comfortable, and I bury myself in his embrace. As expected, everywhere that my skin touches itself or touches Darcy feels achy and hot. But it isn’t enough to make me want to move.
“Are you cold?”
I shake my head. “No, Daddy.”
“What’s going on, baby? Everything okay?” Daddy's voice is right by my ear, low and quiet. I didn’t even hear him approach. Fingers slide over my head and around the back of my ear.
“Feeling droppy,” I reply, pressing my burning eyelids into Darcy’s neck.
“Is Daddy Darcy’s cuddle enough, or do you need something else?”
An image of what I need flares in my mind, and the rawness of the image makes my heart lurch and my cheeks burn. I squirm on Darcy’s lap and refuse to answer.
“Baby, we can’t help if you don’t tell us. Darcy won’t mind if you need something different.”
“It’s…embarrassing,” I mumble. Then tack on… “And kind of dirty. I can’t.”
Darcy’s chuckle makes my body tremble with the movement. “She’s embarrassed. If I’m correct, it’s not something PG.”
If my cheeks weren’t already set to a burning temperature, they would be now.
Fingers weave into the hair at the back of my neck and grip, then gently pull until my head is angled back enough that I can see Daddy , his eyes only inches from mine as he crouches down behind the couch. “Tell me, baby. I’ll give you just about anything you want right now. You were the perfect girl for me today.”
Something nervous and thrilling tickles at my stomach, and I look at him earnestly. “It’s a secret.”
He smiles. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
I scrutinize him for a minute. He draws a cross over his chest with his free hand, and I make my decision.
Releasing Darcy, I hold my hands up to Daddy , and he takes my wordless request and complies, pulling me up and over the back of the couch until I am wrapped around him like before.
“What’s the secret?” he whispers as he slowly carries me back around to the couch and takes a seat far enough away from Darcy that it feels like we have privacy.
“I want a cuddle, but I also want…” I trail off, unsure if I can get the last few words out.
Daddy gives my butt a squeeze, his fingers coming super close to touching each other over my pussy, making me even more squirmy. I push down onto his hands, hoping he’ll understand this wordless request the way he did the last one.
“You also want?”
Damn, no such luck.
A finger drags along my entrance, and I suck in a breath.
“Do you need your pussy filled, baby? Is that what’s wrong? Feeling a little empty?”
Holy fuck, why is that so hot?
A low thrum starts in my core, and my tits feel hot and heavy. I nod, my cheek rubbing against his shoulder. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Do you want my fingers or my cock, baby?” I squirm over his lap and he chuckles. “Cock, it is.”
I sigh with relief. Yes. And I didn’t have to ask.
“Rise up a little for me and I’ll undo my pants. Then you can wrap your little fingers around me, get me hard, and put my cock inside of you. No coming, though. You’re still on restriction.” His voice is low and rumbly, but there is the smallest amount of steel in it.
I pout, even though he can’t see it. He is willing to give me what I need, but not an inch more.
Daddy's hands leave my ass and slip between us, making quick work of the button and zipper. He tugs until his pants are down far enough that his already semi-hard cock is exposed.
His hands return to my ass, and I slip my hands between us, stroking and tugging until he is hard.
The entire time, he murmurs words of encouragement. “That’s it, baby, get me hard so you can have what you need. Those pretty little fingers feel so good wrapped around me.”
When I feel like he is as hard as I can get him, I lift onto my knees, readjust until the head of his dick is at the opening to my pussy, and sink down, merging us together.
I snuggle all the way in, until our thighs press together and his zipper is biting into the back of one, his heartbeat is loud beneath my ear, and I am stuffed as full of him as I can be.
The sad little voice in the back of my head finally quietens as Daddy cups my ass and gently rocks me, soothing me until the apartment fades away.