Yes, Sirs (Book 1 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 45 - Callan

I didn't think I would ever grow tired of seeing Emma naked and wanting like she was now. There was just something about her that made me unable to stop thinking about her. She had this magnetic pull that was impossible to resist, and I didn't even want to try to fight it.

This was the first time something felt...right. She felt right. We'd tried too many women over the years, and not one of them felt like this—not a single, fucking one. Not only had she hooked me in; she'd hooked the guys as well. That was no easy feat.

She was bent, head lowered and ass up. I could see everything in this position. Her cunt seeping with wetness, and her asshole was in full view. The sight was torturous.

I felt my cock straining in my pants, begging for her touch.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to stay seated. I wasn't one to go for the main course if I could have an appetizer first. I wanted to draw this out for all of us.

The meeting had gone even better than expected. If I didn't already find her ideal for us, I did now. Her interests matched perfectly with ours, or as perfect as it could be for a submissive and not a slave.

Emma stood in the middle of the room, a few feet from us. We were torturing ourselves by having her outside of the range of touch, but it was the best kind, knowing we could get to her as soon as we felt like it.

I looked towards Gideon, sensing his barely restrained desire to attack her like a wild animal. Tonight, he wouldn't be alone with her. It was too dangerous. Not that he would intentionally hurt her, but no one should ever be in a scene while angry, and Gideon wasn't angry though—he was fucking pissed.

His hands were bruised, and the cuts suggested he'd been in one of those fights again. Not that I blamed him. If that was what he needed, if that helped him get through today then I was all for it. Hell, I would've offered to be his sparring buddy. We sparred whenever we needed to let off some steam, but today he had required something more; to hurt and inflict damage.

When Emma had to be driven to the club, I'd made him go get her, hoping it would help with his mood. It looked like he was more controlled than he usually was at this time each year. Typically, by now, he would've either gone through all the fighters at the illegal fight club or be swimming in alcohol.

"You can stand up now," Mateo said, and I looked back at Emma. She looked dizzy for a second as she straightened before she found her balance.

Shit, she was beautiful, like one of those rare gems that just emitted light. Wherever she went, she lit up the place. Emma could act all proud and confident, but we knew better; she was shy and uncertain. I hated that for her. I didn't want her to ever feel that way at all.

The night she came in through the club's doors, she'd stolen my attention, along with half the room's. I just didn't know how a girl like this—elegant, charming, and smart—could have so little self-esteem. If there was one thing I wanted to accomplish while we were her dominants, it would be to make her see herself the way we saw her; as near perfect as anyone could get, at least, to us.

Emma's porcelain white skin held a tinge of blush as she let us have our fill of her glorious body. Well...let was the wrong word, more like ordered her to.

Unable to sit still any longer, I rose from my chair and went to a chest of drawers, opening the first one. I was outside of Emma's view, so she didn't know what I was doing; she could only hear the sound of metal against metal.

I grabbed a pair of padded handcuffs and went to stand behind her.

"What's your safeword?" I asked, making sure she remembered it.