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The Sadists had put great thought into this. Nice breath for kissing, chocolate to get the sugars up after heavy play, the compressed towels to wipe away tears and “messes.” The aftercare balm was self-explanatory, and on the little label, it said you could use it as lip balm too…if you were Tate. He must be involved somehow.
Traitor!
“Yes, you can.” The answer came from the doorway, where I spotted Greer.
Yikes. I was, for the first time in my life, a little wary around him.
“I won’t say anything to mess it up for him, Sir.” I dropped my gaze and worked faster to finish the kits. “I was only joking.”
I heard him sigh as he walked over to us, and he stopped behind the couch. Then he wove his fingers through my hair, grabbed a fistful, and tugged me back.
“I owe you an apology,” he said.
I stared up at him and blinked. He was upside down.
“Archie informed us that we’re babying you,” he went on. “That you’re capable of making some decisions on your own.”
“Some,” I whispered.
His mouth twisted down, which was up. “I’m sorry, pet. I’ll try to listen more. But you’ll have to live with us being careful before we know the extent of the damage Marcus has caused. We don’t want to make shit worse.”
“I understand, Sir.” Relief and infatuation flowed through me, and I had to grin. They were being protective and sweet—I had to remember that. They cared about my well-being.
“Good.” He dipped down and kissed my forehead. “Now, go on and make Archie laugh. You have twenty minutes to crack him.”
I spluttered a laugh. “But that’s mean!”
“No, it’s practice.” He smirked and rounded the couch to sit down next to me. “I could use a li’l clown as a sidekick to push his limits.”
I could definitely be a clown!
“So he’s not allowed to laugh?” I asked to make sure, and I resumed packing kits.
“That’s right.” Greer shifted his gaze to Archie. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
“He’s hot as fuck,” I replied frankly.
Greer snorted softly. “So hot that you kinda forget to discuss safety before you sixty-nine the hell out of each other?”
Gulp.
I widened my eyes and zipped up another kit. Oh shit!
“Yeah, he told me when you were in the shower.” He cleared his throat. “Look at me, Corey.”
I didn’t want to! Oh my God, I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten.
“I-I’m always safe,” I stammered. I forced myself to glance back at him, and I took a pinch of comfort in that he didn’t look angry. “I’m so sorry I forgot, Sir. But I’m safe. Since Marcus has multiple partners, we’ve used condoms.”
“Even for oral?”
Oh. Well… I chewed on the inside of my cheek and refocused on the kits. “I don’t have oral with Marcus.”
“Really?”
Really.
“Don’t get me wrong, I freaking love to suck cock,” I said, “but there’s an, um, ick factor when I don’t know where he’s been.”
I’d been able to speak up and be honest with Marcus about that, at least. And now, thinking back… Fucking hell, how could I have accepted his reasoning so easily—even when it made me feel physically bad. This is for us, Corey. I always want to be the best Daddy I can be for you. I have to keep learning, keep evolving. Fucking gross.
“Jesus,” Greer whispered. “Just when I’m ready to tell you to stop talking about cock-sucking, you make me wanna bash his head in.”
I rolled my eyes to myself. Message received—I couldn’t mention anything remotely sexual around Greer.
“So you don’t know his other partners at all,” he stated.
I shook my head. “I know of them. I’ve met one of them—Jonathan. He was with us at the house that night when you came up to me.”
I remembered having to spend the night with him that time. We’d had Marcus between us, and I’d felt so much resentment and sadness. But I was coming out of a dark place, a fog was lifting, and I was understanding my misguided feelings better. It hadn’t taken much. Or maybe it had—I mean, things had been building up for a long time. Either way, I just felt sorry for the other guys now. At least Jonathan. He’d looked at Marcus with the same devotion I’d once felt. Completely under Marcus’s spell.
Just thinking about that made me want another shower, but three showers in the span of five hours might be pushing it.
“Are we almost ready in here?” Sloan entered the living room. “We have to leave in fifteen if we’re going to Corey’s place first.”
“I have four kits left, Sir,” I answered. “Archie has one.”
“That’s great.” He ruffled my hair a little on his way to the kitchen.
I was so happy they’d agreed we could go to my place first. I was out of clothes to wear, and it felt silly to borrow Archie’s or Sloan’s son’s clothes. But I’d hurry. I only needed five minutes at home to pack my bag and put on new clothes.
