"I'm starving, too," I say. "They never serve proper food at these events; it's pathetic."
She chuckles against my chest. "We should order some pizza next time. Imagine that, all those stuck-up money bags with a slice of pizza in their hands, fresh out of the box."
I laugh, shaking my head at the thought. "That's a picture I'd like to see."
She lifts her eyes up to me. "Can we order pizza? Like right now?"
"If that's what you want, sure."
Her face lights up like that of a little kid who was just handed the keys to a candy store. It looks adorable. Fucking adorable.
"I'm sure that's something you never do," she assumes. "Order pizza. So low-class."
"Don't misjudge me, Button. It's not like I've always lived in this... what did you call it, 'ridiculous rooftop palace'?"
She grins. "Yep. Exactly."
I have to distance myself from her, even if it means getting out of bed, and detaching myself from an embrace that couldn't feel any more comfortable if I wanted it to. I could lie there forever, talking to her, watching her lively face while she speaks or ponders, feeling her body pressed against mine until the urges return, and my hardness orders us to connect as one again. Hell, I could even watch her sleep. I want to watch her sleep.
I have to get out of here.
She throws me a confused look when I jump up from the bed, hastily putting on some pants and getting away from her mesmerizing touch.
"Are you okay?"
She sounds hurt, and her words cut into my heart like a dagger.
"Of course," I assure. "Just fucking hungry. Let's get that pizza."
She sits up, drowsily fixing her hair that's hugging her shoulders in sweat-dampened, ruffled waves. I watch her climb out of bed, grimacing as her tortured ass presses against the sheets, a sight that gives me great satisfaction.
I have to do something about this. We've come further in our training in a shorter amount of time than I expected. She has shown that she’s not only capable, but eager, to explore more of this, test her limits, grow as a submissive, and thus as a person. I wonder if she could develop a deeper understanding of what it means to be mine.
Though the bigger question might be if I’m ready?
I should be. I always have been. Taking it further with her is just a natural next step, something that has to be done. And it may be even more important with her than it ever was with anyone else because it would prove that she's nothing special to me. She shouldn't be, at least not more than any other toy before.
"Button," I say, as she wraps the silk robe around her tender body.
She looks up at me, not suspecting a thing.
"We'll try something new in the near future."
"Something new?" she asks, her face lighting up with curiosity.
I approach her, holding her by the shoulders while her mascara-smeared eyes hold onto mine.
"You're mine now, and you promised to do whatever pleases me," I tell her. "Have you ever been with more than one man before?"
Her eyes widen and her mouth opens just the slightest bit, forming a tiny O as she assimilates the thought. A few more minutes pass before she shakes her head. "No."
"I enjoy sharing what's mine once in a while," I let her know. "And I think it's time for us to do this. I want to show you off. I want to see you get fucked while you worship my cock."
Her cheeks blush, but her expression doesn't change. She's still looking at me with those big eyes and the almost perfectly round circle formed by her lush lips.
I don't know what I expected. Do I want her to protest? Do I want her to be excited? Do I want to see her burst out in tears, yelling that she could never be with another man because she... whatever.
Either way, none of it happens. Whatever she's feeling, whatever is running through her mind - it's not displayed on her face. Instead, she just nods solemnly, placing a hand on my chest and not batting an eye when she whispers, "Okay. If that is what you want, Sir."
I swallow hard, ignoring the knot forming in my throat. "Will you be a good girl for me?"
The smile that appears on her face, so innocent, so fucking natural, real but laced with a hint of sorrow, cuts right through my heart.
"Of course I will."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ann
He told me to doll myself up, to look good for him and his "friend.” I have no idea what to expect, but I know I don't want to disappoint him, so I made sure to go lingerie shopping a few days ago, buying two new bra and panty sets each with an adorned garter belt and matching stockings. Both sets have elaborate lace and feature a handmade design, and they are far more expensive and luxurious than anything I've ever worn before. I couldn't decide on a color, so I bought one in white and one in black.
The decision of which one to wear tonight wasn't made until last minute. I didn't want to ask Jared for his opinion because I wanted it to be a surprise, but I tried to imagine which one he'd prefer - and decided to go with the white set. White implies innocence and purity, a stark contrast to what was about to happen tonight. I thought that he'd be able to enjoy the play with contradictions, to share his innocent possession with another man under his guidance.
I can't deny the thought excites me just as much as it scares me. It's baffling to realize how much I want to please him, to be a good girl for him, even if it means leaving my own comfort zone.
I'm standing in front of the full-body mirror in my bedroom, giving myself a last once-over before I present myself to him. I've taken the time to curl my hair and pinned it up, leaving a few curly strands framing my face and draping down over my shoulders. He prefers it when I wear my hair down, but I think it looks better this way. Besides, he will mess it up within a few minutes anyway. My make-up is stronger today, my eyes framed with thick black lashes and black eyeliner that has never been more precise, and my lips are painted a deep red color. If my hair was a few shades darker, I would almost look like Snow White.
I take a deep breath, balancing on my new heels as I approach the door on shaky legs.
Is this something I've fantasized about? Maybe? I'm pretty sure that the thought of being with more than one man at once has crossed the minds of many women before, some even craving it until they're finally able to make that wish come true.
It's never been a major desire for me, but one thing is for certain: I wouldn't do it with anyone but him.
I open the door of my bedroom, knowing that I don't have to fear what's about to happen, because he will be there. I trust Jared, and I know he would never do anything to hurt me, unless I asked him to. I trust his judgment and his guidance, and there's a not-so-quiet part of me that can't wait to see the look on his face when he first sees me. When I’m coming down the stairs, when he sees me obediently going down on my knees in front of him, when he sees me following his commands with another person present to witness it.
I still don't know who that other person is going to be, but I trust Jared. He told me it was a friend who has done this sort of thing with him before, and that was all I needed to know for now.