Page 38 of Sugar Baby
“Does that bow undo?” The question practically burns my tongue with the speed it leaves my mouth.
I need it to fucking undo. I didn’t bring any of my goddamn ropes, just like Derek didn’t bring any of his floggers, Hudson didn’t bring any of his toys, and Xavier didn’t bring any of his blades.
It has to undo.
For all of our sakes, it has to undo.
Emmy’s eyes are wide, her fingers leaving indents on Derek’s forearms as he continues to hold her open to us. “Yes.”
Derek must do something, because she sucks in a breath and then rephrases. “Yes, Daddy.”
My cock twitches, and I know the others aren’t unaffected.
Hearing those words will never get old, and the way Emmy says them, so breathlessly and effortlessly . . .
I push up from the table, pass by Xavier, and step between Derek’s legs before reaching forward and grasping one of the ends and tugging. The satin holds its bow, protesting for asecond before slipping free. The knot sags between her breasts, but I can see the firm swell hidden behind the shiny black fabric.
Emmy’s eyes are trained on my forearm, staring at my exposed tattoos. So, I give her a second to look, slowly rotating my arm to show off the black and gray ink. A cracked artist’s palette, a torn canvas depicting a half-finished woman, half-squeezed paint tubes spilling onto the floor, a wooden mannequin with the head by its feet all weave together around dark fabric and dead flowers—the dark side of my passion.
Lacking the patience to allow her to look her fill, I extend my arm and finish undoing the last scraps of dignity that Emmy possesses. When I’ve exposed both of her breasts, I stand there, staring down at her, taking in my fill.
The black underwire of the lingerie perfectly frames her breasts, the two half circles coming together in the center in a sharp point. I can imagine pretty decorations hanging from the dusky nipples that are on display—tassels, clamps, piercings.
I cut myself off from the thoughts of permanent shows of ownership and step back to allow Hudson and Xavier the same view. “Lower your legs and sit up straight for me, princess.”
Derek releases her, allowing Emmy to do as I requested. Once she is sitting upright, I gather her wavy brown hair and bunch it all together so that it flows over one shoulder. Quickly, I check in on her facial expression and find her staring at the ground.
With a finger under her chin, I raise her face to look at me. “Place your hands behind your back, palms out, fingers pointing to the opposite elbows.” When I release her chin, I pointedly make sure she is looking at the two men behind me as she follows my instructions.
Derek, clearly having figured out what I’m up to, has already gathered the loose ends of the satin. He offers me one side, and I grin at him. Accepting the black fabric, I wind it one full rotationaround the opposite wrist, then drape it over the palm of her hand.
I do the same to the other hand before tying the remaining ends together in a fisherman’s knot at the center of her back.
The black satin looks fucking amazing against her skin.
My mental imagery of her pussy separated by ropes, that then flow up her body in a series of knots and ties, is filled with the black set that I have stored on one of the hooks in our play apartment. The apartment that has never been used but is perfectly set up for our ideal baby girl.
Quickly, I check that nothing is too tight by slipping a finger in between each of the pinch points and her skin. When I’m satisfied, I crouch down between Derek’s legs so that I am eye-level with Emmy, and place my hands on her pressed-together knees.
Her eyes are focused on Xavier, who I’m sure isn’t giving her any indication of his thoughts. If I didn’t know what his kinks were, I would have thought he was into mind fucks.
But no, that’s Hudson.
When she doesn’t look at me immediately, I smile. “Princess.”
She twitches but simply swaps her focus to Hudson.
Unable to help it, I grin. “Princess, you can look at me.”
Her eyes drop down to me, and I reach up to caress her lips, rubbing my thumb over the slightly torn flesh. “Still green?”
Her lashes flutter as her shoulders strain before she relaxes again. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl, tell us if that changes.” I pause and wait until she gives me a nod. I glance up at Derek. “Could you please help Emmy to resume her previous position?”
Emmy’s mouth opens, forming a tiny O, but before she can protest or wiggle her way off Derek’s lap, he leans forward, scoops her back into his lap, and has her knees held open for me.
When the slit opens and bares her delicious-looking pussy right in front of me, a noise of pure fucking hunger rolls from my throat. “This is the prettiest fucking pussy I have ever seen, princess.”