Page 75 of Good Girl

But the final shot…fuck.

It takes a second for me to realize what I am looking at, but when I do, I lose the fight against my cock getting hard.

The camera is underneath Emery, most likely on the floor, and perfectly positioned to capture a drop of cum as it trickles out of her and starts to fall.

My pulse thuds in my ears.

“How did she go with the scene? Do you have a rope bunny on your hands?” I know what Darcy has been thinking. I’m sure we’ve all been thinking about it.

Does she fit all of us?

Is she the one we can offer a long-term contract to?

“Can’t say for sure yet. There was a moment when she struggled against the ropes, but we were able to talk her through it and she relaxed again. Never once safe worded, even though we asked. Any other fight she had in her was aimed at the predicament she was in, rather than the ropes themselves. I think, with time and practice, she will come to love them.” The hope in his voice is enough to trigger my own. “She just needs to fight before she relaxes. She was beautiful once she gave herself over.”

During my scene with her yesterday, then last night, with Hudson’s fantasy, she was perfect for someone so inexperienced with our kinks. And it sounds like she will be able to meet Darcy on his.

Giving Darcy back his phone, I clap him on the back and head toward the kitchen. If I stay in Emery’s vicinity for a moment longer, I’ll end up using what is surely my last orgasm for a while on a hand job that adds to the cum on her chest.

I need to get ahold of myself. It’s like I am a goddamn teenager again.

Murmuring from the two of them follows me as I go to put our subs in the fridge.

This girl.

She is going to be ours. I can feel it.

The only warning I get that someone else is in the kitchen with me is a slight shifting of air. Turning, I find Xavier leaning against the far side of the kitchen island, a black giftbag on the counter in front of him.

His gift.

I have no idea what it is, but he has been messaging with someone since Friday night about it.

“Do you want to go to her?” I ask quietly as I go to stand next to him.

He is silent for long enough that I wonder if I should repeat the question. “No, she needs them right now. I’ll have her soon.”

The music has changed to an a cappella singing group, and the volume is lower as Darcy starts the process of removing the ties. Hudson moves to Emery’s other side and works on the knots there. As they go, they rub and massage her limbs, especially where the knots were.

From here, I can’t see any of the details, but I have watched Darcy enough that I know his routine. This is a part of his aftercare and the way for him to help his sub reconnect to the real world. By the time he has her free and cuddled in his arms, she should have roused, if still a little floaty, as she calls it.

The thought warms my heart and puts a smile on my face.

Xavier and I watch from our place. It doesn’t take the two of them very long to get Emery free, and in the end, Hudson supports her body as Darcy undoes the chest piece.

Still shirtless, Darcy scoops Emery out of the chair, their naked forms pressed together, and carries her toward the couch. Once seated, he nestles her against his chest, and the way they both let out a huge breath is endearing. Like they needed this moment together.

Xavier and I move into action. I collect several bottles of water from the fridge and take them to the coffee table, unscrewing the lid on one for Emery when she comes back to us.

Hudson is dealing with the ropes and toys so that they aren’t as big of a mess for Darcy to deal with later, and Xavier meets me at the couch with a blanket that he gently covers Emery with. Her eyes are open but are unfocused, pupils still wide and taking over the majority of the beautiful hazel that is normally there.

She’s not quite back with us, but I can help with that.

I take a seat next to them and place her feet in my lap. There are a few red marks around her ankles, a spot on her calves, and loops around her thighs. I start my massage with her feet.

Beginning from her toes and working my way up, I keep the pressure even, but light, just enough that it feels good without distracting from wherever her mind has gone. The others start a conversation, but I pay it no mind, instead concentrating on my baby and making sure we have no sub drop incidents again.

The way she slips into subspace is still mind-blowing to me. It’s as if she belongs there, instead of here with us. Like she was made for the gray of our world.

---