Page 8 of Their Little Sugar Plum
“You can call me Mason.” Mr. Clark looks toward the phone as he says it.
He’s told me to call him Mason a hundred times, but I’ve never been able to.
“Thanks, Mason. I’m Jonah. We weren’t properly introduced before.”
Mr. Clark grins. “You were rather busy.”
“I was.” Jonah chuckles.
I want to cover my face in mortification.
It gets worse, though, when Jonah says, “Mason, would you like to see more of my pet?”
“I shouldn’t, for many reasons,” Mr. Clark says. “But yes. I very much fucking would.”
He shouldn’t? That stings. I wonder about all the reasons why he shouldn’t, but I have to push past that thought.
“Okay, pet.” Jonah sounds happy. He loves this sort of thing—putting me in another man’s lap, having me dance with his friends. But he’s always nearby when it happens. “Lift up that pretty red dress and let him see you.”
“Jonah.” His name comes out on a whine, or a whimper. I can’t bear to meet Mr. Clark’s eyes.
“Do it, Mikayla. Don’t argue with me. It isn’t your place to make decisions or question me.”
He’s right, and I love it. The decisions, the thinking—I don’t have to do any of that. I trust him not to hurt me. And I still have my safe word. I can use it at any time, and I will if I need to.
So I set the phone down in one of the cupholders between us and slowly inch up the fabric of my dress.
I’m not wearing panties. This is the worst.
This is also the best.
Mr. Clark watches without comment. His gaze is intent on my thighs, at every new inch of skin exposed.
Before I reach the very top and expose myself completely, a video call request comes in. Jonah says, “Let me see, too.”
I jab the accept button and hold up the phone with one hand, while moving my dress a little more with the other.
Jonah’s green eyes sparkle with lust and approval. He loves what I’m doing, and that makes me feel even better. In a low voice, he says, “Give him the phone to hold so I can watch.”
I hand the phone to Mr. Clark. His fingers brush against mine when he takes it.
That thrumming at my clit gets even stronger. I can feel it throughout the rest of my body.
“All right, princess.” Jonah’s voice comes loud and commanding through the speaker. “Lift up the rest of your dress.”
I pull it up. It’s starting to get cold in the car, despite my feverish skin. Goosebumps travel over my legs. Mr. Clark turns on the engine so the heater takes away the nip of cold.
“You have a beautiful little pet, Jonah,” Mr. Clark says.
“She’s very precious to me. The most precious person in my life.” Jonah sounds so sincere, it makes my heart pump extra hard with happiness. His tone darkens. “Now play with yourself, pet. Give yourself the pleasure you crave.”
Oh, I can’t. But I want to. That thrumming sensation is moving all through me, taking away all rational thought.
“Don’t make me tell you again.” Jonah’s voice holds a note of disapproval.
One of my hands is holding up my skirt. The other goes straight to my pussy. I moan at the relief my touch brings.
Every sensation is heightened by the knowledge that Jonah is watching me with Mr. Clark. I can’t see Jonah’s face, but I can see Mr. Clark’s, and he’s staring intently at my hand working between my legs.
