47. Daisy
Chapter 47
Daisy
T he restaurant was tucked behind a facade of gold brick. There was no sign, just a black door flanked by fixtures that cast a soft glow over the entrance. You couldn’t even get in without ringing a bell.
“How did you find this place?” I asked while we waited for someone to open the door.
“We have our ways,” Wolf said.
I felt like a princess in the feathery dress and new shoes, my hair blown out around my shoulders. I’d gone with a smoky eye and a pale lip, not wanting to distract from the dress, and I knew everything had come together just right when I’d emerged from the bedroom and had seen lust flare in the Beasts’ eyes.
The silicone in my underwear had felt weird at first, but I was surprised how quickly I’d gotten used to it. I’d spent the drive to the restaurant expecting it to start vibrating, but it hadn’t, and I’d gradually stopped thinking about it.
It was Otis’ fault really. As always, his questions had cut straight to the chase.
Getting off was fun. I was tired of sleeping alone.
Getting fucked by Jace in the bathroom at the Strike had stoked my appetite for them all. We hadn’t all been together since Jace had come home and I was dying to be enveloped by their big naked bodies even if I was too proud to admit it.
A small panel in the black door opened to reveal the face of a young woman. She asked for the name on our reservation, then opened the door. She was petite, her form-fitting dress as black as her swingy shoulder-length hair, as shiny as the raven that had frequented Jace’s grave.
We stepped into a cozy space paneled with aged brick and warm wood. The room was large, but I could see that it was divided by a brick wall, creating another room at the back, the layout making both spaces seem intimate despite the generous proportions of the room.
The lights were dim, candlelight flickering from the center of the linen-draped tables and deep leather-clad booths. Through a wide doorway, a sleek, modern bar dominated another room, a handful of people talking quietly as music played softly in the background.
“Follow me,” the woman said.
She led us through the front part of the big room and around the brick divider to the sheltered room at the back of the restaurant. I knew I wasn’t imagining the attention lavished on us by the other diners. I also wasn’t naive enough to think it was for me. The Beasts were imposing in any situation, but they looked exceptionally beautiful tonight.
This time Wolf was the one wearing leather pants, his black dress shirt, covered in black sequins, straining against the width of his shoulders. The black shirt made his eyes look even brighter, even bluer, and his black boots made him look every inch the posh musician. I had to fight not to stare at his dick in the tight pants.
Otis had gone another direction, skipping dress pants in favor of crisp black jeans. His black button-down made his hair look even more gold, the black-and-gold brocade jacket a perfect compliment, and his new Chuck Taylors gave the whole ensemble a casually sexy vibe.
But it was Jace who’d surprised me most, going all out in gray trousers, a black vest, and a black-and-gray houndstooth jacket. With his slicked-back hair, inked skin, and angular features, the jacket made him look like an old-world gangster who would have been right at home in my mom’s house in the 1800s.
So… yeah. No wonder everyone was staring. It was like being escorted by three of People magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive.
We reached one of the deep leather booths and Otis gestured for me to slide in first while Wolf and Jace took the other side. A few seconds later, Otis’ knee was brushing against mine under the table.
The booths were roomy with high backs, and I settled in to what felt like a private world as the hostess retreated.
“This place is so nice,” I said, taking a drink of water from the glass on the table.
Wolf stared at me. “They’re famous for their meat.”
I almost choked on my water. Clearly my mind was in the gutter, but who could blame me when I was surrounded by the Beasts, who held the remote to the piece of vibrating silicone in my underwear. “Excuse me?”
“It’s technically a steakhouse,” Otis said. “They have other stuff, but they’re well known for their steak.”
Steak was definitely less sexual than meat .
Our server, a small gray-haired woman with a pixie cut and a nose ring, arrived to give us menus and tell us about the specials.
And so began the most sublime dining experience of my life.
There were oysters Rockefeller, breaded and fried to a golden brown, and served with lemon wedges that provided the perfect tang. The oysters were served with steak tartare, ground and marinated for so long it literally melted in my mouth.
We were already through our first bottle of wine when the main courses started arriving, and I sighed as I bit into my beef Wellington, the best steak I’d ever had surrounded by light crispy puff pastry. Otis gave me a bite of his pork chop, seared to perfection, and Wolf leaned over the table to feed me a piece of his duck, which was served with a chutney made of sautéed apples and pecans.
Jace’s porterhouse steak was huge, sliced at the table with a massive knife. I was already getting full when he offered me a bite, but I couldn’t say no, and he watched me close my mouth around his fork like he wanted to eat me whole.
The main courses were served with a chorus of mouthwatering side dishes. There was a medley of locally foraged forest mushrooms, sautéed in white wine, and a potato pavé, the layers of potato sliced paper thin and stacked into a mini-brick that was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, seasoned with thyme and rich cream. There was even a corn pudding that had the bite of an unusual pepper the server told us was called Espelette, plus parmesan and chives.
By the time they cleared our plates, I’d forgotten all about the piece of silicone in my underwear.
Until it started vibrating.
I jumped, a squeak of surprise emerging from my mouth as the server came to ask us about dessert.
The vibration took only two seconds to make me wet, Wolf’s eyes on me across the table as Jace ordered dessert and coffee.
The vibrating stopped as the server retreated and I sucked in a breath. “Jesus.”
Wolf chuckled. “Feeling okay, sunshine?”
“Okay” wasn’t the word I would have used. The vibrator had shocked my food-drugged system, putting me on high alert as I waited for another hit from the tiny device in my underwear.
“Feeling fine,” I said, determined not to let them shake me.
The server returned with our coffee and the vibrator started up again. My nipples immediately got hard, and I felt Otis’ hand slip around my knee and slide up my bare thigh as the device vibrated against my clit.
“This doesn’t seem fair,” I said, a little breathless when it stopped.
“We just want you to have fun, doll.” Otis slipped his fingers inside my underwear and stroked my wet folds. “Aren’t you having fun?”
“Fun" didn’t seem like quite the right word for the pleasure rocketing through my body, the vibrator turning on and off at random intervals, amping up my sexual excitement right before stopping.
“Sure,” I said. “Super fun. Which one of you assholes is holding the remote?”
“That would be Wolf.” Jace’s eyes were like molten emeralds, his lips parted, like he was turned on too. “Although I think it’s time to give someone else a turn.”
“You go ahead,” Otis said. “My hands are busy with Daisy’s wet little pussy.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the server arrived carrying two plates, one with the thick slice of dark chocolate cake with raspberry coulis Jace had ordered for the table, the other with the pineapple baked Alaska. She set the Alaska on the table and withdrew a lighter from her pocket, then touched the flame to the domed meringue. It went up in flames just as Otis slipped his fingers inside my cunt.
“Wow, that’s really something,” Jace said, his eyes on me instead of the flaming dessert.
Wolf offered him the vibrator remote and he took it like they were handing off the key to Benji instead of the key to my pleasure. The vibrator stilled and I gripped the table, trying to suppress the desire to move my hips and grind against Otis’ fingers, sliding in and out of me, brushing against my sensitive clit.
“Isn’t it?” the server said with a smile, oblivious to the fact that I was perilously close to an orgasm as Otis fucked me with his fingers.
She watched until the meringue turned golden and the flames died out. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” Wolf said. “We will.”
I was glad he was up for the pleasantries because I was beyond good manners. I guess that was what happened when a guy had his fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy in public.
Jace held up the vibrator remote. “Yes? No?”
I glared at him because talk about a deal with the devil. I was desperate to come, but also, we were in the restaurant, our booth surrounded by other people in their booths and a handful of tables in the center of the room.
Did I trust myself to be quiet about it?
On the other hand, could I wait until we got back to the hotel? I kind of felt like I might combust if I didn’t come.
Otis added a finger to the two already inside me.
“Yes,” I gasped.
Jace pressed the button and I stifled a sigh of pleasure as the vibration hit my clit, lighting a match to the fuse of my idling orgasm.
“Fuck!” I muttered, gripping the table.
“I think she’s having fun,” Otis said to Wolf and Jace.
“That right, sunshine?” Wolf asked. “You having fun now?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I said through my teeth.
A sexy-as-fuck chuckle sounded from Wolf’s mouth, but Jace didn’t find it funny. His eyes were glued to my face, his eye twitching, mouth set in a firm line.
“Oh god…” Was I speaking quietly enough? I couldn’t tell. I was losing my grip on reality as Otis’ fingers moved faster, working with the vibration of the device nestled inside my now-soaked panties to bring me to the brink.
“Pretty sure our girl is about to come,” Otis said. “And fuck me if I don’t feel like I could join her.”
“Honestly same,” Wolf said, shifting in the booth. “My dick’s so hard it fucking hurts.”
“You’re a couple of pussies,” Jace said.
Wolf scowled. “Easy for you to say. You fucked Daisy in the bathroom at the Strike. We’ve been in the doghouse since you got home.”
Jace pushed another button on the vibrator and the vibration suddenly got faster. The extra friction was all I needed to fall over the edge of my orgasm.
I gripped the table tighter and a strangled gasp sounded from my throat as I shuddered around Otis’ fingers. I closed my eyes and clamped my mouth shut, trying to stifle the moan fighting to emerge from my throat.
“Fuck,” Otis muttered. “You should feel how tight she’s getting while she comes.”
Wolf let out a low groan. “Stop being an asshole.”
“I’m just saying,” Otis said.
“Well don’t,” Wolf said. “We’re going to have Daisy bent over the table if you keep talking about it.”
I heard the words they were saying but was only barely registering them as I came, the orgasm rolling through me like an earthquake with endless aftershocks. For a minute, nothing existed outside of the intense pleasure ripping through my body like lightning, the vibration on my clit, Otis’ fingers penetrating deep inside me.
Finally, I sank back into the booth with a sigh and opened my eyes, relieved when the vibrator turned off.
Otis stroked my folds a couple times before withdrawing his fingers. I watched as he brought them to his mouth and sucked. It was so subversive, so unbelievably hot to know he wanted to taste me right there in the restaurant, that he didn’t care what it looked like to anyone who might walk by our table, that I felt a fresh wave of desire rush between my thighs.
“Jesus, sunshine.” Wolf’s blue eyes were even brighter than normal, his gaze locked on my lips.
“That looks good,” Otis said, seeming to notice the baked Alaska for the first time.
“Take it to go,” Jace said. “We’re getting the fuck out of here.”