Chapter 7
Seven
Ella
“Kingston,” I say, shocked.
“Daddy,” he corrects.
“Oh, you don’t have to call me that,” I joke. “ Ella is fine.”
Sebastian reaches over and palms my breast. I gasp in pleasure, arching into his touch. Then he finds my nipple, which is already hard through my bra, and he pinches.
I yelp in surprise, then quickly cough to cover it.
“If you’re going to be a brat, you’re going to feel the consequences,” Sebastian whispers.
That’s what I was counting on, I want to say, but I feel I’ve tested him with my sass enough for the moment. I glance around the darkened theater. The only other people are probably eight to ten rows ahead. But if we get loud, we’ll disturb their experience, and that seems rude to me.
As if to underline that thought of mine, a short video plays on the screen, reminding everyone to silence their cell phones and be quiet for the show.
“I’ll be good,” I whisper.
“Now,” Kingston reminds me, “about those panties. I want them in my hand in five…four…”
I lift my hips and reach under my skirt, yanking off my panties and sliding them down my legs, over my feet, and wadding them into my hand. Keeping my gaze on the screen in front of us, I pass them to Kingston.
The film starts playing and the cameras follow our intrepid-yet-adorably-klutzy heroine as she goes about her day working in a flower shop.
And that’s about as far as I get into the story before Sebastian’s hand on my knee starts creeping up my thigh. I roll my lips between my teeth, trying to keep quiet as his callused fingertips scrape against my skin, bringing a fire in their wake and filling me with a heavy sense of expectation.
I don’t know whether I should close my legs or open them wider for him. We’re in a public venue…but we’re out of sight. What are the rules here? I flick my glance over to Kingston.
He leans toward my ear and whispers, “Stop thinking, little girl. Let your daddies worry about everything that needs worrying about.”
Damn, that sounds good. To just let go and—I gasp as Sebastian’s fingers find my soaking center and he eases one inside.
I’m afraid to move, afraid to make a sound. Reflexively, I start to put my knees together, but Sebastian grabs one with his free hand, and Kingston holds the other. In this position, Sebastian starts fucking me with his fingers.
It feels way too good.
I don’t want to come—I’ll be too loud. But I’m already so close.
I smash my lips together and try to watch the movie.
The heroine is arranging flowers and…I’ve completely lost the train of the plot.
A handsome actor arrives on the scene, but he has no chemistry with the heroine.
I start to puzzle over whether he’s meant to be the romantic lead or not, but Sebastian adds another finger to my pussy and I arch into the thrust.
Kingston leans over and kisses my ear, my cheek—then my mouth. I moan against his lips. We should’ve picked an action flick so the explosions on screen would muffle whatever noises I might make.
I think I might come. Bad idea. I hold it back as much as I can.
“Do you see the other couple in front of us?” Kingston murmurs in my ear.
I try to see their silhouettes, but I only see one person there.
“She’s going down on him,” Kingston says, a smile in his voice. “If you come, nobody here will care.”
Is he telling the truth? Are the couple in front of us really…I’m wildly curious, but also kind of afraid to know.
The guy leans his head back and groans.
Holy crap. I think Kingston’s right. I didn’t know getting busy in movie theaters was a thing, but then again, I was pretty sheltered in high school, between my dad and brother both scaring off any guy who looked at me too closely.
It wasn’t until I moved into an apartment and started college part-time that I became sexually active…
and when you have your own place, who needs a movie theater?
Then again, Kingston and Sebastian both have nice apartments, yet here we are.
The couple in front of us are still doing…
whatever it is they’re doing. Sebastian changes the angle of his fingers and recaptures my attention.
Not that he ever truly lost it. I’m just trying not to concentrate on the way his fingertips play me like I’m a musical instrument, pulling pleasure through me like a melody.
His confident strokes, and Kingston’s kisses against my neck create a shameless, hungry new version of me. I whimper while Sebastian continues to pump his fingers in my pussy. He uses his thumb to strum my clit, and my body begins to tremble.
“You can let go, Ella,” he whispers. “Come for us, princess.”
I send a frantic look to Kingston. Taking pity on me, he kisses me again. I moan into his mouth and I allow myself to let go, following Sebastian’s directions, enjoying a dirty, electric orgasm that causes me to try, once again, to clamp my thighs down on Sebastian’s hand.
He keeps me spread, though, and thrusts his fingers gently in time with my rhythmic aftershocks.
“Nice job, princess,” he says, his hazel eyes dark as he takes in my face.
“You should remember your manners, little girl,” Kingston says. “Tell Daddy Sebastian how grateful you are for your orgasm in the movie theater.”
My face heats, and even though nobody will be able to see my blush in the dim lighting, I cover my cheeks. “Thank you, Daddy Sebastian, for the orgasm in the movie theater.”
“You’re welcome, Ella,” he says, sounding smug.
“Do you think we can go, now?” I ask.
“You don’t want to stay for the ending of the movie?” Sebastian whispers.
I give him a look. “Like I have any idea what’s even happening at this point.”
He chuckles. “Then let’s get out of here. Oh, and princess, you’re staying with us tonight.”
I don’t argue, and not only because I’m fresh out of other options. The orgasm they just gave me is probably only the beginning of the wicked ideas they have, and I can’t fucking wait to see what else might be on the night’s agenda.
Kingston
Ella stays with me for the weekend, and I’ve gotten in touch with her landlord about fixing her door, as well as fixing other less-than-satisfactory aspects of the building, including the main door to the building that doesn’t latch, and several lights that are out.
Yes, I went there one evening and checked everything after dark. I want to know what the place is like when Ella’s coming home from work.
I don’t like any part of it. I want to spank her ass until she agrees to be a good girl and stay with her daddies always, but that’s not how things work in the real world, only in my fantasies.
On Monday morning, Ella texts Sebastian and me while I’m at work. A detective at SEPD wants to talk to me about my apartment manager .
I lock my computer and text back, I’m on my way to pick you up. Are you working at Dorado Terrace?
She writes back that yes, she is, so I call my driver, Garth, and head over to meet Ella. Sebastian is standing with Ella in front of the building when I arrive.
“Shall we all go to the station together?” I ask.
Ella nods. “Thank you. For doing this. I don’t think I’m the best at accepting your help, but this is really, really nice.”
I lean over and kiss her cheek, because that was probably difficult for her to say, and I want her to know I recognize that. “You’re such a good girl,” I whisper next to her ear.
She shivers and grins shyly at me.
Sebastian holds out his hand and helps her into my car, and I slide in after them.
The station isn’t too crowded, and someone takes us to an office with the name Detective Carl Baldwin listed next to the open door.
A brown-haired man glances up as Ella, Sebastian, and I pause at the threshold. “Come on in,” he says with a professional yet friendly smile. “I’m Detective Baldwin. You must be Ella Marchand?”
“Yes,” she says, accepting his hand to shake. “These are my boyfriends, Kingston Tyler, and Sebastian Crown.”
The detective doesn’t even blink at the plural of “boyfriends,” which raises him in my esteem.
“Nice to meet you, Detective,” I say. “Did you tell Ella that you have questions for her?”
“Yes,” he says. “I’m wondering if there are any reasons that you can think of, why Mr. Crowley would be surveilling you?”
Ella shudders. “Nothing pleasant. Just sick stuff.”
Detective Baldwin sighs and runs a hand through his close-cropped brown hair. “He’s being surprisingly tight-lipped on his motives. Has he ever behaved inappropriately toward you in any way, in day-to-day interactions?”
“No, he mostly ignores me,” Ella says. “He’s a terrible manager.”
The detective asks her a few more questions. When he seems to be through, I say, “Can you tell us anything more about what Crowley is up to? Were the cameras recording? He told Sebastian that they weren’t, but obviously we can’t trust his word.”
“Unfortunately, the cameras were recording,” Detective Baldwin says. “There are several files. But he never sent them anywhere that we can tell. Our IT people have combed through his system several times.”
Ella sags against me in relief.
“What about flash drives or anything like that?” I ask.
“It’s possible,” the detective says. “However, one of our female detectives skimmed all of the footage, and other than a couple of instances where the subject is changing her clothes, there doesn’t seem to be anything incriminating or compromising in any way.
” He pauses. “I hope you don’t mind my language just there, Ms. Marchand.
I’m trying to make it less personal, but there’s probably not much I can do to make this any more comfortable for you. ”
Ella nods. I rub her arm, hoping to convey reassurance and support.
Sebastian looks like he wants to punch somebody.
After a few more questions, we leave the station. The midday sun is bright and warm, even in early February.
“What’s next for you?” I ask Ella.
“I have work at Bartleby’s, the dinner shift.”
“So you have a few hours free right now?” I ask.
She nods.