Page 57 of Triple Pucked
I’m a servant obeying my king.
At ten paces, I stop.
A brush of fingers across my hip. Then…just the tip of one finger…along the length of my cock, as if in reward.
I suck in a shocked breath.
My balls ache.
“You’re walking through my mansion, naked and blindfolded, because I told you to.” D’Angelo’s suit jacket brushes against my chest. He must be in front of me. My blush deepens. Is he inspecting me? “Maybe I’m just walking you around like my pet. Should I put a collar and leash on you next time?”
Instantly, my mind conjures the image.
Bloody hell, I want that…need it.
“Yes, Sir.” Instinctively, I reach up to wrap my own hand around my neck.
It’s comfortable.
I imagine that it’s a collar.
That D’Angelo and Robyn would ever want to permanently collar and claim me as theirs.
It’s easy to say that our love is forever. Yet I know how disposable I am.
I’m the toy and not the husband material.
I’ll enjoy this while it lasts. I’ll worship these men and women who I love. But I don’t know how to make them want to keep me.
Silence.
Uncomfortable, I turn my head from side to side, as if I’ll be able to see through my blindfold.
Then a hand cups my cheek.
“Cucciolo,” D’Angelo says, softly, “we’ll talk about that when we’re both not under this much pressure. I was going to suggest that we try a play collar temporarily for some scenes.”
Play.
Yeah, Blythe made that clear about me.
I know that trash like me is only worthplaying with temporarily.
My eyes burn with tears. I am glad that the blindfold hides my distress. I don’t want to look like an ungrateful sub.
I’m trying to be good, even if I’m failing.
“Thank you, Sir,” I force out.
“What’s wrong?” Instantly, D’Angelo’s arms are around my shoulders, massaging. “Color?”
Shit, I should have known that he wouldn’t miss anything. He’s too good a dom.
I relax under his touch, leaning forward to rest my head on his shoulder. “Green now that I’m touching you.”
“Was it the talk about the collar? You can say no?—”
“I want it,” I say, quickly. “It’s just…”
