Page 86 of Good Girl

Derek

My heart is still pounding as I sip at the cool bottle of water. That scene had been…

Fuck. The way she had cried for him?

It had been fucking perfect, everything Xavier has ever wanted in a play partner.

She knew she could use her safe word. But she never did. It’s like the word disappeared from her vocabulary the moment she agreed to use it.

Now, she hangs from the cross, head tipped forward, hair a cascading, sweaty mess all over the place, with Xavier kneeling behind her, carefully using a scalpel to leave a mark that, if I didn’t trust him implicitly, I wouldn’t be letting him do.

I’m here as her safety and to stop him from going too far. Being able to add to the scene was just a bonus. However, like a few of my marks will leave non-permanent blemishes, I know the one he is leaving her with right now will outlast the ones on her back and inner thighs, but it won’t leave a permanent scar.

The crying lady tattoo on his shoulder ripples with his movements as he runs the scalpel over Emery’s ass cheek. He’s been at it for a couple of minutes. The scalpel came from a vacuum-sealed, sterilized bag, and he is wearing black latex gloves.

Every other cut on her skin was minor, baring the ones near her pussy. Those are going to need antiseptic cream and a promise from her that, if she starts to feel any discomfort, she will contact us, as well as book an appointment with a doctor. Same will go for the mark on her ass cheek.

He finally stands and takes a step back so that I can finally see what he’s been doing. And there it is. One word.

Mine.

The fucker carvedmineinto her skin, deeply enough that blood was bubbling along every line.

“Seriously?” I queried, a touch of mild annoyance, mixed with a large dose of exasperation. “You couldn’t have writtenours?”

He throws a smirk my way before dropping the scalpel into the metal bowl and peeling off the gloves.

I’d watched everything from my hiding place behind the curtains.

Her confusion.

Her clear fear that we had abandoned her.

Her mischievousness as she’d realized she could explore without repercussions. Not that we would have stopped her if we’d been here. Quite the opposite, actually. I know I want to spend more time with her, teaching and explaining about all my kinks and desires. I’m certain Hudson and Darcy want the same.

Then the outright terror that had briefly flickered across her features as Xavier had pressed the blade to her throat. The tension in her body had eased, as soon as she’d realized who was holding her hostage, but even then, she’d held herself in check, clearly not fully trusting of the situation she was in.

Picking up the bottle of water I’d brought over for him, I lean forward and tap it against his bicep. Xavier glances down and accepts the bottle before taking several steps backward and leaning against the dresser with me.

“How was it for you?” I ask, ignoring that my chest tightens as I ask. It’s not only Emery who has to be happy with a scene for this thing to work out with all of us.

“I’m keeping her,” he states, twisting off the cap and taking a sip.

It physically hurts not to roll my eyes at him. “Well, clearly, with how you have claimed her.” I gesture at her ass. “But how was it? Did it feel right?”

He flicks a look my way, and I have to work incredibly hard to keep my face neutral.

Xavier knows what we all want. We came dangerously close to asking Emery for more before his scene, which wouldn’t have been fair to anyone.

“Yes.”

That’s all he gives me. But it’s enough. It’s all we need to move this thing forward.

“Excellent, I’ll send Darcy and Hudson a message to bring an extended contract with them when they return.”

Xavier grunts. “No need. Already done.”

I glare at him but don’t bother saying anything about it. “We should start aftercare.”

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