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

Chapter 75 - Emma

Callan kept watching as I dressed myself in the lingerie. The bra was black and basic but still sexy. When I reached for the panties, he objected.

"Wear the garter belt under the underwear," he directed. "I want to fuck you later with those on."

His comment made me burn even hotter, and I did as he'd told me to, taking on the belt and stockings before fastening them.

The high-rise panties with black lace drew my attention; they were see-through except for my private area and reached all the way up to my bellybutton. My ass felt bare as I put them on, just like a thong would feel like.

After I'd gotten everything on, except for the harness, Callan rose from the bed and grabbed it. "This will go over your head, like a collar of sorts," he explained and helped me put it on. Next, Callan fastened two leather straps around my ribs. Lastly, he tightened a couple more straps around my breasts.

"Done. Here, have a look." Callan led me to a mirror, letting me see what it looked like on.

The harness looked just as intricate as it did in a heap on the bed. The leather started around my neck and connected in the front with a steel ring. Attached to the ring were strands encircling my breasts with one strand on each side and one in the middle of my boobs. They connected to two belts around my ribs. Each of the strands had buckles on them—except the one around my neck—and Callan had taken advantage of it, tightening them as much as he could.

As I said, it was intricate as all hell, but I also had to admit it made me feel sexy.

Looking at the mirror, I saw Callan standing behind me. He hadn't taken his eyes off me once, and I could tell he found this outfit appealing—to say the least. When I pressed myself against him, I could feel his hard rod against my back.

His hands on my shoulders tightened, and I had to suppress a moan as he leaned in and nibbled on my left ear. "Careful, Sweetheart. Remember who calls the shots here. Do not start something you cannot finish," he warned me before pulling away.

"Take the heels on while I go change." Callan went towards a door I hadn't seen before, but maybe that was because it was just as black as the walls were. He stopped just before he walked out. "Oh, and braid your hair. If you don't have a hair tie, there's a pack of them in the bathroom," he said over his shoulder.

I did my hair in a French braid, admittingly a less messy one than what I'd done at Mateo's place. That time, I'd been stressed, wanting to get it done as fast as possible just to please him.

Happy with the result, I grabbed the shoes. I'd guessed right, though I had hoped I wouldn't. The heels were Louboutin. Kevin would've screamed right now if he knew what I was wearing; he had a love for all things designer.

Before long, Callan was back in another suit. This one was just a pristine as the other one, and he'd also donned a suit jacket as well. He looked like a wet dream; I would know, I've had them. I tried not to think about the dream I'd had of the men when I slept over at Mateo's house.

For days, I'd ignored the dream and pushed it to the side. It couldn't mean anything, and I didn't believe in precognitions. It had been wrong; it was as simple as that. I didn't want to become a slave, no matter how much I wanted to keep the men for myself. Right? Right.

"Come on, I've ordered us some dinner in the meeting room. You'll need all the energy you can get before we start. You can leave your bag here, along with your phone and clothes," Callan said, painting a hazy picture of the night he had planned for us.

What he'd hinted at made me feel too many feelings at once; excitement, nerves, thrill, jittery and scared. They were all filling my body, making me fight to appear calm. It wasn't that I didn't look forward to it, because I really did, but it would still be a new experience. I wouldn't be myself if I didn't feel a bit apprehensive trying out something new, no matter how much I wanted this.

Callan showed me to the room where we had our meeting discussing an in-depth BDSM checklist. The only difference about the room was that the long table had been replaced by a much smaller, circular one.

We sat down on the opposite side of each other. The cold of the chair pressed against my thighs made me shiver, and I became acutely aware of the difference in clothing between Callan and me. While he was dressed from top to toe, only my most intimate areas on my body were covered.

When his phone rang, he immediately hit decline so he could focus on me. His gaze devouring me like he never grew tired of my body. "I hope you like salmon. If not, I can get the chef to make you something else," he offered casually as if he weren't making me squirm from the way he looked at me so intently.

"I love it. Grandma used to make it all the time." I smiled at the memory of a dinner table filled with my favorite people.

"Are you close with your family?" He asked, and his voice hinted at how curious he was about me. I had a feeling he wanted to know everything there was to know. I hated to disappoint him, but I was boring as hell—there just wasn't anything interesting about me.

"Very, I try to talk to them once a week. Though, I've been busy lately," I admitted. These guys had stolen every thought, making me forget everything else. "What about you?"

"I—" he started, but the phone ringing again cut him off. Cursing, he looked at the screen. "It's Mateo."

"Take it, I can wait," I urged him. I didn't mind waiting if there was anything important Mateo had to talk to him about.

"I'll make it quick," he promised and put the phone to his ear. "Hi, man. What's up?"

It was quiet for a few seconds before Callan nodded. "Yeah, I'm with her now." His eyes found mine as he listened to what Mateo had to say.

"Some lingerie I've picked up. She looks like the perfect submissive in it. I'm sure you'll see her wearing it at some point." He winked at me as they talked.

My pussy ached just knowing they were talking about me, and I had to press my tights together to try to alleviate the throbbing. I'd tried to do the same before, and it still didn't help—it was like stoking the fire, the smallest pressure teased me more than help me.

"You horny fucker," he chuckled. "I'll take a picture of her or even a video later and send it to you and Gideon. If it's okay with our girl, that is."

The thought that Callan would take a picture or video of me and share it with the guys didn't do anything other than making me more turned on. In other words, I was definitely okay with it.

"Oh...is everything okay?" Callan asked and paused to listen. "Good. Have you talked to Gideon about it?" Another pause. "Yeah, I'll tell her and get back to you. We'll figure something out. Talk to you later, bye." He hung up and placed the phone back on the table.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"Mateo can't make it tomorrow and asked if we could have the night as a group on Saturday instead. He talked to Gideon, and Gideon agreed to change his night with you," Callan informed me.

"Does that mean I'll be with Gideon tomorrow?" I didn't resent the idea. In fact, I felt it had been too long since I'd seen Gideon.

"Yeah, if that's okay with you?" It struck me as weird that Callan was even asking me, seeing as he'd already ascertained that they would decide how I spent their days with them.

"Yes, I can do that." I nodded and then thought of something. "I've forgotten to mention that I have work this weekend and won't be off until five AM. Will that be a problem? I mean, I'm willing to stay until my next shift to make up for the time lost." I should've probably said something about that sooner, but it had completely slipped my mind.

"I'll talk to Gideon about it, but I'm sure it won't be a problem," he assured me.

"That's good. Will he pick me up, or...?" One of my bad habits was waiting until the last second to ask any questions; I needed to get better at that.

Callan grew tense but relaxed again almost immediately, making me believe I'd probably been imagining it. "He'll text you," he answered, his voice just as smooth as ever, but there was something in his eyes that was a little too shuttered for my liking.