Page 42 of Good Girl

“Just relax, princess. Come back to us when you’re ready.”

I do as requested and let myself float, enjoying the platonic feeling of a warm, wet washcloth roving over my skin. Time seems irrelevant, and by the time I do want to resurface, the water is cool and only my human pillow and I are in the room.

Tipping my head back, I look up into hazel eyes.

Hunter stares back at me, his expression blank, giving me zero insights into his thoughts.

The door to the bathroom opens, and my eyes dart to the man there. My mouth pops open at the transformation of Derek.

Bare chested, eyes dark, low slung jeans, with nothing on his feet, he takes up a large portion of the doorway. Seeing that I’m awake, he strides toward the bath, primal lust flowing from him.

Daddy is here.

He crouches down by the bath so that we are at eye level. The way he stares at me makes me nervous to break eye contact, and I know that things are about to change.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and commanding. “Your pleasure is over for the weekend. It’s our turn. I’m not going to lie to you—this is going to hurt. You might even begfor it to stop. It’s not going to stop. Not until we are done. The same rules as last night apply. You say ‘red’ and it’s over. We’ll help you pack up your things, and you can leave with the cash and gifts you’ve received. But only if you use your safe word. Otherwise, for the next twenty-four hours, you can scream the words ‘no’ and ‘stop’ until your heart’s content, but neither word will have any meaning. Your pain and pleasure are ours until you leave the apartment. Do you understand?”

My heart rate increases with every succinct word that Derek utters, my attention riveted to his face. “Yes.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, displeasure flashing through his eyes.

I tense at my mistake and quickly fix it, hoping it's not too late. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” He stands and offers me his hand. “Let’s get you dry, and then our first scene will begin.”

I take his hand and get out of the bath, careful not to step on Hunter. Daddy wraps one of the amazingly soft pink fluffy towels around my body and proceeds to dry me. I hear the plug being removed from the tub and the splash of water as Hunter stands and gets out.

Nervousness rushes through my limbs as the towel is hung and I’m led out of the bathroom. A backward glance connects my eyes with Hunter’s as he stands there drying himself. I’m not sure if I want him to save me from whatever is waiting for me, but the look on his face tells me there is no sanctuary with him.

As we approach the bedroom door, I’m hyperaware of my nudity in comparison to Daddy’s jeans-covered lower body. They look soft and worn in a way that says he has owned them for years. My gaze trails up his back and I gasp.

The left hand side of his back is one giant black and gray tattoo.

With the bathroom light fading to the red glow that fills the doorway, I only manage to make out a naked woman tied to a cross over his shoulder blade, her back a pattern of crisscrossed lines.

I’m distracted from my ogling by the low but heavy bass. The oddness of the quiet in the bedroom, versus the sound on the other side of the doorway, is confusing to my senses.

Daddy blocks my view as we leave the quiet of the bedroom. He turns to face me with a serious look on his face, the red glow behind him enhancing the dominant vibes he is putting out.

“The scene starts now, Emery. You can use your safe words at any time. You must use your safe words the moment they are requested, or everything will stop, regardless of your response. Just like last night, green will keep everything going. Yellow will slow things down. Red will be an immediate end to whatever activity is happening. The scene and the weekend will close. This is your last reminder. Do you understand?”

I nod, nerves tumbling about in my tummy. “Yes, Daddy.”

A smile fights to spread on his lips, but he keeps it back. “Good girl. And Emery? Do not forget that your orgasm restriction starts now. No coming unless we allow it. If you get close, beg. Failure to meet this rule will result in a punishment.”

My heart is hammering in time with the flutters in my stomach. Derek steps into the main space of the apartment, and the reason for him blocking my view becomes clear. The curtains have been pulled back, and the rest of the room is on display.

I try to take it all in, my focus jumping from one thing to another.

An X-shaped, human-size cross is positioned in the center of the far wall.

A padded bed that resembles a doctor's examination table sits to the side of the cross, but it's all black, and there are leather loops hanging from the sides.

A wall full of floggers and paddles. And I meanfull—there are at least twenty kinds hanging from hooks, in a rainbow of colors, lengths, and sizes. There are drawers and cabinets placed around the space to create separate areas, all made of dark wood and darker fixtures.

In the corner closest to us is a completely blank space. The only thing that tells me it's a part of the space are the two walls that are filled with lengths of colorful rope. Bars close to the ceiling secure each colored piece, allowing them to hang free to the floor, creating a wallpaper effect.

The bars are what clues me in to where the red glow is coming from. Where the wall joins the ceiling, there is a black curved cover, with red light flowing from behind it. The cover forces the light against and down the wall.

---