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“Malcom?” I whispered, and a tsked sound vibrated.
“You had it right a moment ago,” he muttered.
“Daddy,” I whispered, and even though I couldn’t see him, I could imagine him smiling. The man behind me undid the blindfold, and when it came off, I blinked a couple of times as my mind processed where I was.
The room was dark.
So dark all I could see was a man in front of me with a half-bunny mask in a grayish, purplish hue. I couldn’t make out the color of his eyes or anything other than his sheer size and square jaw. Malcom.
“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice deeper. He took my hand in his and kissed the top of it. “So sweet,” he rumbled. I licked my lips.
His head tipped, and another man moved closer into my vision. He was dressed in nothing but black but had a black ski mask on instead. One that had eye and mouth holes. It was them. My body knew them as much as my heart did.
Excitement mingled with nerves as he pulled me into his arms.
“Tonight, you’re going to be our very good girl while you show us how bad you can be,” he said roughly, and I nodded. They turned, and my head turned to follow their sight line.
A man sat in a club chair. One of his long legs rested over his knee as his masked face was turned toward us. I couldn’t make anything out about him. The black glossy skull mask seemed intimidating.
“Crawl over here, baby.” His knee dropped and his legs spread as he sat with an air of arrogance and confidence.
“What?” I found my voice.
“Crawl, baby girl.” His finger crooked in his direction, and when I looked at the men next to me, they stepped away and waited for me to make a move.
Maybe they knew me better than I knew myself?
I would have never imagined crawling toward any man; the thought would have been humiliating! But for some reason, surrounded by them, the image only made me wetter. I dropped to my knees slowly. I felt them staring, watching me closely. Their gazes a caress on my bare skin.
“Fuck,” a deep voice groaned behind me while a grunt joined it.
“Be a good girl and come over here. Crawl to me, sweetness,” the skull-masked man repeated a little rougher.
He leaned forward, and I noticed his pale-freckled hands grip his knees with a white-knuckled grip. He was trying like hell not to get up and grab me. To keep his control in check.
There was something about that, that made me feel powerful.
Sexy.
Giving them my submission was like handing them the heart they had stolen. And just like that, my mind blanked. My daddies would never hurt me, a voice whispered proudly in my head, and I positioned myself getting on all fours.
My eyes set on the skull-masked man, ready for everything and anything the night might hold.
19
CASEY
Watching Rosie crawl toward me almost had me shooting inside of my pants like some fucking teenager. But then again, all she had to do was breathe, and she had me on edge.
She was a fucking sight to behold.
Gorgeous in that flirty almost innocent black babydoll getup Mal had chosen for her. Next time, though, I’d pick what she would wear. Something pastel, pink or lavender. Maybe light blue. Fuck it. We had the rest of our lives for her to dress up for us. Wear anything we wanted because she knew we’d do the same for her.
I’d have her wearing every fucking shade of the rainbow and then some.
My thighs spread wider when she reached me, and when she was in front of me, she sat on the hunches of her legs as she kneeled before me. Jesus. The trust she handed over in that moment was humbling. I leaned in closer, wishing I could take my mask off. I knew she couldn’t see my eyes; it was done on purpose. No matter how dark the room was, my light eyes would have given me away. And even though we were certain she knew it was us, we wanted to give her as much of her fantasy as possible.
“You ready to be our good girl, Rosie?” My voice sounded deeper behind the mask. Her eyes were glazed with lust, and when her lips parted and she nodded, my fingers gripped her chin. “You like being good for your daddies?”
