Good Girl (Sugar Life #2)

35. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Emery

My gaze crashes into Viper, now that Angel has disappeared from view. He holds my eyes for a single rapid heartbeat before his drift down to my exposed pussy. Because it is one-hundred-percent exposed. Heat flares in my core and my skin burns as he so casually examines me.

The chair is a fucking weird design. The actual seat is barely deep enough for my ass, and the sides of the chair flare away from the seat, making my legs spread wider than a normal chair would. With how Angel has positioned me, I’m using my tippy toes to maintain the position.

It is awkward as fuck, and the soles of my feet are already starting to cramp. Holding this position, with my knees against the legs of the chair, is keeping me spread open. Restrained by my own willpower.

Viper’s attention darts to something over my shoulder, where I assume Angel is, and my pulse increases. I desperately want to glance over my shoulder, to see what’s coming, but I have a feeling I’m not supposed to move. Viper reaches for something on the table next to him, and then the music increases in volume. His hand hovers over something long and white before picking it up and gathering the white cable that hangs from the end.

Viper stands and comes to crouch a few feet in front of me, his attention focused on my pussy until he looks down at what his hand is doing to the floor. I’m mesmerized by his tattoo, once again wanting to trace the constellations with my fingers. Or tongue. Whichever he would let me. Fuck, when did I turn into such a thirsty wench?

As Viper stands, he fiddles with the long white thing in his hand, and then there is an audible snap followed by a buzzing sound in the room. Oh, fuck. I follow the white cable down to the ground. The buzzing shuts off, and my attention zooms back up to Viper and find a smirk on his face. One that says that this is probably going to hurt before it feels good.

No, wait. Hadn’t Angel said something about the car yesterday? Is this going to be like that? Where it felt good, then kind of hurt, then felt really, really, really fucking good?

It isn’t until I flinch at the feel of a finger on my shoulder that I remember Angel is in the room too. Shit, I need to stay focused. I need to…

Angel traces a line down over my shoulder. Unable to stop myself, I tip my head down to watch as the finger slips between my breasts, then down along my under-boob. There is the barest scrape of skin on skin, but it’s enough to heat my skin.

He does the same thing on the other side, and I take what is supposed to be a steadying breath, but it comes out a lot shakier than I’d like. Hands slide forward over both my shoulders and down to my chest until my tits are cupped and caressed, Angel’s tattooed forearm is a stark contrast against my unmarked skin. My thighs quiver, and I gasp as he tweaks and pulls at my nipple, almost losing my fight to keep my knees apart and pressed against the chair’s legs, as lines of fire zip straight to my clit.

Watching is making this worse.

Angel’s hands disappear from my skin, leaving me with goose bumps from the sudden loss of his warmth. Slamming my eyes shut, I figure the best way to get through this is to just go with it. To sit here, do exactly as I’m told, and enjoy every single sensation. Be good and give him everything he wants. Leave it all out there for him to pick through at the end.

He’s already given me so much this weekend, I just want to be good for him. And maybe…

Nope. Not thinking those thoughts. There are only a few more hours left of the contract. When it’s over, I’m back to being on my own, and my future will all but be a lock. I’ll only need to get through college and start the beginning of the rest of my life.

“You selected a silk rope,” a deep voice says quietly in my ear, so close that Angel’s breath skims over my skin as he exhales. “The dark blue and black combination is going to look exquisite against your skin. I’m going to add light blue as well, to create highlights and extend the shadow.”

I try to conjure what that will look like in my mind, but all I can see is blue and black rope twinned around each other. Envisioning my own body wrapped in his ropes is almost impossible.

Maybe he will take a photo?

“Relax and breathe, princess. Can you do that for me?”

I nod and try. I do. But it’s only just now occurring to me that my fingers are cramping from how tightly I’m keeping the end of the armrests gripped. And I’m not sure I can relax. Not when I don’t know what’s coming. What if—

A heavy weight falls over my shoulder, across my chest and against the opposite thigh. Fingers brush along my thigh as the weight is gathered, and with my eyes squeezed shut, I can only assume it’s the rope. Slowly, it is pulled tight, diagonally across my body, until there is pressure against my collarbone, sternum, and opposite ribs.

The rope goes slack and moves oddly for a few seconds before tension pulls everything tight, but not as tight as I’m expecting. Without any additional slack entering the rope, the end is draped over my opposite shoulder, the length pooling in the V of my legs.

Warmth brushes against my nipple, and a hand worms its way around the rope in my lap, a finger slipping straight over my clit and sinking knuckle deep into my pussy.

I gasp as he removes his finger as quickly as he entered me, taking the rope with him.

Fuck. Wait. Am I…

I’m being tied to the actual chair.

Why the fuck that thought didn’t occur to me when I first saw the ropes and the chair, I have no clue. Because, obviously, that was the plan from the beginning.

The rope goes tight, loose, and then tighter again.

“When I’m done, you’ll have what is called a Butterfly Harness. It gets its name from the shape it makes around a submissive’s chest. It can be extended by binding the arms in a bent position and anchored at the back.”

I force my eyes open and peer down at my chest. I don’t see it. Right now, it’s just a simple X between my tits.

“Keep watching, princess. You’ll see it soon.”

How the fuck did he read my mind like that?

Two more additional loops of the rope on each side, and I have a really thick X, but the overlapping in the center of my cleavage has formed a cross-hatched design. Angel comes around to my side and kneels. I feel the rope as he brings it from the back and around my ribs. His knuckles brush my side-boob, and I swallow as he loops it under the three strands of the shoulder piece, directly above my boob, creating a triangle.

Angel wraps it back around to the back and then under my arm again.

I’m starting to see the shape.

He repeats the same on the other side.

When he’s done, he stands and stops in front of me. My gaze attaches to his face, but he doesn’t look at me . No, he looks at his ropes, slides his fingers under and around them, pulls a little, adjusts something here and another thing over there.

Then he strides away, and unless I crane my neck, I can’t see him anymore.

Buzzing fills the room again, and I snap back around to look at Viper. At some point, he’d retaken his seat on the rolling stool. When my gaze clashes with his, he stands and stalks the few steps toward me, the padding of his bare feet hidden by the music.

He hunkers down right between my thighs and raises the vibrator so that I can see it between my thighs. It has a ball-like white head, and I just know, I fucking know, I’m going to love to hate it. With his shoulders almost touching the inside of my knees, I can’t close my legs, even if I want to. I’m no longer held open by my own will power, but forced open by Viper.

His lips quirk to the side, and his ice-blue eyes glint with mischief as he touches the vibrating ball to my inner thigh, right at the very top, but low enough that it doesn’t actually touch my pussy.

I jerk in place and suck in a breath—the vibration is heavy and travels up my thigh into my pelvis. Even with it so far from my pussy, the electricity that races through my muscles is enough to shock me senseless.

Is he going to touch that thing to my vagina? Holy fuck, I’ll explode on the spot. There is no way my clit is going to come out as the winner if that thing touches it. It’ll get burned right off.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, my leg muscles twitching and spasming under the onslaught.

“Remember, no moving,” Viper says, voice as hard as glass. He grins at me, the edges a little wicked and a lot wild, just before he touches it to my other thigh.

I let out a squeak, twist and squirm in my seat, trying to get away but also trying to maintain my position. The nerves under the vibrator are going haywire, unsure if this actually feels good or not.

With the chair strapped to my back, like my fancy new fucking backpack, I’m stuck. There is zero possibility of getting away. My leg muscles fight each other—half want to close and the other half want to be good and stay spread. I’m at their mercy. They can do whatever they want with me. Not that I’ve ever stopped them.

I don’t think I ever will.

I want this too much.

I want them.

I want what they do to me.

I want this version of sex, where it feels amazing, even if there is pain involved. I don’t want to have the ability to think. I just want to feel.

I want it to be about me. All about me.

I want them to want me as much as I want them.

I’m panting, chest heaving as I stare down at Viper while he slowly slides the vibrator up higher and higher. The beautifully weaved knot between my tits is pulling tight and is squeezing my chest with every breath. The sensation is oddly soothing, like an anchor point.

Just before the vibrator touches my pussy, Viper changes direction and traces my panty line toward my hip. My stomach muscles contract, and even though the vibration is moving farther away, with it sitting right over my hip bone, I can feel it fucking everywhere.

My heart is racing and sweat is starting to build beneath the knot on my chest. A humming sensation fills my legs and I have to wrap my fingers around the ends of the arm rests to stop myself from reaching for Viper’s little torture device.

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Angel has returned with the black length of rope. He starts with a double loop around my upper thigh, the first spot Viper touched the vibrator to.

The dual sensations of the rope sliding along my thigh and tightening, paired with the vibrations on the other side of my body, have my brain misfiring. I don’t know where to look. Both sensations want my attention, but it’s almost too much.

On top of all of that, I am desperately anxious to feel that new toy over my clit. Yet I really, really, don’t want to, especially with Angel’s explanation that yesterday’s car ride was basically a baby step for today.

Fingers curl around my chin and turn me to face Angel, but I can barely see him through the haze that is taking over.

“Breathe for me, princess. Just breathe. Feel everything that is happening, let the ropes hold you together.”

Let the ropes hold me together.

I take as deep a breath as I can manage and try to relax. Try to just feel. To let the worries in my head drift away.

I do it again and let my eyes fall closed as I exhale.

Just feel. Let them pleasure me and use my body for their pleasure.

Just be.

Let the ropes hold me together.