Praise (Salacious Players Club, #1)(44)

“Why?” I ask when my mouth decides to finally form sounds.

“Because that’s what you are, isn’t it? Unless you’d like to go back to the way things were before—”

“No,” I blurt out. “I just didn’t…I don’t know why I didn’t want to obey you. I just…didn’t.”

He gives me a subtle smirk again. “Interesting.”

“I think I was jealous.”

“Why would you be jealous? She was the past. You’re the present.”

Because deep down, I want to be everything. Past, present…future. But I can’t say that. It’s too much.

“Did you…sleep with her?” I ask, practically whispering.

There’s a moment of hesitation before he answers, “Yes.”

Jealousy stings me hard, but I can’t reply because the waiter returns, placing our plates on the table. It smells so good I almost forget about the topic of conversation. And I can’t stop thinking about him and Monica, and her as his sub and them having sex.

“Eat,” he says, and this time, I listen. Because it is really, really delicious.

And I don’t shy away from devouring the entire filet and orzo salad. He looks almost pleased with me as I set down my fork at the end of the meal. It’s so good I almost forget about the vibrator still sitting dormant in my panties.

After the waiter takes our plates, I stare at Emerson again. With my belly full and a little relaxed, I get the nerve to finally ask what I really want to know. “Did you sleep with her today?”

He looks shocked. “Today?”

“Yeah. While you were giving her a tour.”

“You really think I would do that?”

“I don’t know,” I reply. We haven’t established being exclusive. I mean, we’re not even having sex, so why wouldn’t I think that? But he’s right…it does seem wrong to assume he’d do that.

He smiles. “No, I did not have sex with her today.”

I let out a heavy breath. Why am I so relieved? Emerson leans forward, studying me as he says, “Would you be mad at me if I did?”

I swallow. “Yes,” I reply with honesty. “Even if I have no right to be, I would.”

“Good.” He seems pleased. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Flirting with Drake.”

“I wasn’t—” The breath is stolen from my lungs as the soft humming in my panties racks my body with pleasure. It’s surprisingly silent as it quivers inside me. My clit is suddenly wide awake, red hot and filled with blood.

“Behave,” he whispers under his breath as he watches me. He’s telling me not to cause a scene, and it takes everything in me not to squirm in my seat. Instead, I clutch the napkin in my lap, my knuckles turning white as I squeeze my thighs together. The vibration doesn’t stop.

“Then, turn it off,” I whisper.

“I think this is a fitting punishment, don’t you?”

Punishment? “I wasn’t flirting,” I reply, forcing the words through breathless lips. “And so what if I was? I’m not your—”

He turns up the intensity and I shudder, knocking the table with my leg, the sound of glass clinking echoes through the room. Eyes shift in our direction, and I force myself to keep still when all I want to do is lift my hips from this chair, hump the air, and scream through an orgasm. But even with the constant vibration, without moving my body, I can’t seem to come. Instead, I’m forcing myself not to, and strangely, it hurts.

That notorious G-spot I’ve heard about…well, I think I just found it.

“This is a strange form of punishment,” I force through tight lips.

“Is it?”

Suddenly, the vibrations are gone, and I should be able to relax, but I feel like the earth has been yanked from under my feet, leaving me to dangle here in excruciating need. I catch my breath without looking visibly bothered. Grabbing the glass of water, I take a long, thirsty drink. As good as the vibrations felt, I don’t really want to keep fighting the urge to come in public, so I silently pray he’s done torturing me.

“If I was flirting with Drake, I didn’t realize it. You should know your general contractor is a natural flirt, and I’m pretty sure he flirts with everyone he speaks to, so it’s really not my fault.”

“But you put the toy in, didn’t you? Did you have permission to do that?”

“Did I need permission?”

The assault returns, this time more powerful than before.

“Emerson!” I gasp. He’s wearing a warning on his face as I force myself to relax, but the toy is getting unbearable. “Stop it, please.”

But it doesn’t go away, and I catch the way Emerson is watching me. His pupils are slightly dilated and his eyes linger on my face as if he’s fascinated by me. Then he leans forward again, reaching a hand out to run his fingers along my arm. I freeze, the contact making the arousal coursing through my body even more intense, like a tidal wave of…desire.

“You can take it,” he mutters. My lips part and our eyes meet. And I realize what this is. He’s punishing me by reminding me who I really belong to.

The vibrator kicks up another notch and I grab Emerson’s hand. My thighs are squeezed together so hard, my entire body is locked up. Hot fiery sensations explode inside me, and I do my best to keep quiet and still. I’m sure if anyone was watching, they would think this looks pretty weird, me staring at him and barely breathing, while our hands are locked, but I don’t care. Because right now, nothing exists outside this table. His eyes, his hands, and the violent waves of pleasure rocking through me.