“I know.” His thumb brushed across my lower lip. “But not yet. We told you. You’re going to suffer beautifully for us all day. And you have been. So perfectly.”
“Please.”
“Tomorrow,” Lex said, joining us. “After tomorrow’s session. If you make it through tonight without breaking, without touching yourself, we’ll give you what you need tomorrow.”
“That’s another whole night.”
“I know.” He leaned in close. “But you’re going to do it anyway. Because you want to be our good girl. Because you want to prove you can take what we give you. And because you know the release will be so much better after all this anticipation.”
He was right. I hated that he was right.
“Now go to your room,” Majesty said gently. “Take a bath. Read a book. Do anything but touch yourself. Can you do that for us?”
I wanted to say no. Wanted to tell them this was too much. But looking at both of them, seeing the pride and desire in their eyes, I couldn’t.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Majesty pressed a kiss to my forehead. “We’re so proud of you, Cami. You have no idea.”
I left before I could change my mind, my body screaming for relief, my heart full of something I wasn’t ready to name.
One more night. I could survive one more night.
I had to.
Because the alternative was admitting I couldn’t handle what they were offering. And I wanted to handle it more than I’d ever wanted anything.
Chapter Thirteen
Majesty
Day Three: Playful Pursuit - Flirtation & Desire in Multiples
I knew something was wrong the moment Cami walked into the kitchen. She moved like she was holding herself together by sheer force of will, her movements controlled and deliberate. She went straight for the coffee maker without acknowledging either Lex or me, her jaw tight, her hands trembling slightly as she poured.
Lex caught my eye across the kitchen, and I saw my concern mirrored in his expression. We’d pushed her hard yesterday. Kept her on edge all day, denied her release, sent her to bed aching and desperate. Now, watching her add cream and sugar to her coffee with mechanical precision, I wondered if we’d miscalculated. She moved to the counter and started assembling breakfast. Toast, peanut butter, sliced banana. Simple, efficient. Still not looking at us.
“Cami,” I said gently.
“Morning.” Her voice was flat. Not angry, exactly, just tightly controlled.
“How did you sleep?” Lex asked.
“I didn’t.” She bit into her toast, still avoiding our eyes. “I was too busy dreaming about things I can’t have.”
The words were sharp, edged with frustration. I moved closer, but she shifted slightly away, putting more space between us.
“Baby,” I tried again.
“Don’t.” She finally looked at me, and I saw it all in her eyes. Exhaustion. Frustration. Need so intense it was painful. “Please don’t call me that right now. I’m barely holding it together.”
Lex moved to her other side, not crowding but present. “Color?”
She took a shaky breath. “Yellow. I’m on yellow.”
“Do you want to safeword out of today?” he asked, his voice gentle but serious. “We can adjust the workshop. You don’t have to participate in demonstrations.”
“No.” The word came out fierce. “I said I could handle this. I’m handling it.”
