Page 21 of Their Little Sugar Plum
Lyle elbows me. “There she is.”
I follow the line of his gaze to the Saint Andrew’s cross in the far corner.
There’s our mark, bound facing forward, stripped down to her lacy pink bra and panties, a ball gag in her mouth.
Her jade-green eyes shine with gleeful anticipation.
Her play partner draws back his flogger, ready to swing.
Mikayla
One Year Later…
I hum “Deck the Halls” as I do a final turn of the sugar plums. They roll around in my stand mixer’s panning attachment. I watch, riveted.
Motion from the corner of my eye pulls my attention to Jonah and Mason.
Yes, I now call Mason Clark by his first name. At least, when we’re out of the bedroom. When we’re playing? Calling him Mr. Clark gives me a sweet, sexy thrill.
“Almost done, pet?” Jonah sets down his coffee.
“Almost done.” I grin at them, my heart full to bursting with love.
It’s been a great Christmas. We spent the afternoon at Mason’s cabin with Violet and her two boyfriends—no, her fiancés. That’s right, my bestie is getting married. I’m so happy for her and the love she’s found. Brody and Heath are perfect for her.
Mason gave them his enthusiastic blessing. A year ago, he was weirded out by his daughter having two boyfriends—especially because he knew how kinky they are. But over the past several months, he’s really come around to the idea. Violet moved into a house with them, and I moved into a house with Mason and Jonah.
And he can hardly complain about his friends being kinky with his daughter, when he’s being kinky with his daughter’s best friend.
Yeah, it’s a bit nontraditional as far as extended families go. But fuck tradition. This works for us, and we’re in love. And our love is more important than stuffy hang-ups.
“Can we try some sugar plums?” Jonah asks.
“Not this batch.” I pat the stand mixer before pointing to a glass candy dish on the counter. “But I have those. From yesterday, remember?”
We took a tin of them to my granny at her care home, to celebrate Christmas Eve with her. We had the best time. Ever since I introduced her to Mason and Jonah, she’s been absolutely charmed, always going on about how she needs to find two men like them, and she’ll make sure to live an extra hundred years.
Mason and Jonah walk over to the dish. They each pop a candy in their mouths.
“Delicious.” Mason’s deep brown eyes crinkle at the corners while he sucks on the candy. “Reminds me of our sweet little girl, and her sweet little cunt.”
“Mr. Clark!” I frown at him, pretending to be scandalized. He loves it when I do that. “If I used naughty words like that, you’d spank my bottom.”
“And you’d like it.” He grins wider.
“No, I don’t like spankings.” It’s a lie. All three of us know it’s a lie.
He grabs my arm and spins me around so I slam into his chest. Then he reaches back and swats my ass. One, two, three, four.
I go soft and melty against him. Every time, a spanking from Mason will put me right into the mood.
With his eyes on mine, he whispers, “You don’t like it, huh? How come you’re rubbing up against Daddy, little girl?”
“I…okay, fine. I like it. A little.” I add a pout for emphasis.
He chuckles.
“Hmm, pet.” Jonah peers into the candy dish. “I don’t think this belongs in the sugar plums.”
