《Yes, Sirs (Book 1 of Desire's Den)》Chapter 118 - Emma

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The gentle touch on my shoulder woke me up, and I looked around in confusion. The only light in the room was from the lamp on the nightstand, and the curtains were blocking out the view of the city.

"Is it morning already?" I yawned.

Callan shook his head. Humor shined in his eyes as he looked at me. "We're going on that date of ours. I figured I'd give you some time to wake up fully before we went."

I sat up on the bed in a rush. "Oh shit, I forgot to set the alarm. How long do I have?" Glancing at the nightstand for my phone, I realized I'd forgotten it in the kitchen. When I didn't get an answer, I turned back to Callan. His eyes were dipped low, and I follow his gaze to my breasts–my very exposed breasts. The blanket must've fallen when I sat up. I made no move to cover them.

My breathing grew rapidly as I felt the tension crackling in the air. Looking back up at him, I swallowed, painfully aware of the tingling happening down below. It seemed we didn't need much to raise the fire between us into a blaze.

"As long as you need,. You don't have to stress," he finally answered but regrettably pulled away from me. "I laid the clothes I want you to wear out on the bench." He nodded towards the bench placed at the end of the bed, which, to be honest, I hadn't seen until he pointed the furniture out. I wasn't great at noticing details, apparently.

He left me to my own devices, and I got out of bed and walked to the bench, curious as to what he'd picked out. Was it another set of sexy underwear or something else entirely?

It turned out to be a beautiful scarlet red dress with a sweetheart neckline and thin straps. On another part of the bench were a red lace thong and a strapless bra in the same red color. A pair of black heels were placed on the floor that I almost missed when I looked at the clothes.

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I bit my lip as I put on the underwear. He couldn't possibly choose something so sexy without planning to see me in them. A girl could certainly hope.

Having seen the elegant and formal clothing, I figured we were going out somewhere. I hadn't brought with me any makeup, but I was sure I'd seen some sealed cosmetic in one of the drawers in the bathroom. I hoped they were for me; if not, I would be pissed that he had stuff for another girl.

It was crazy how fast I'd gone from being opposed to them buying me stuff to using them without asking–though, in all fairness, I was still opposed to it. I just...I guess I could recognize a losing battle, and I didn't want to fight it.

These guys had money, sure, and if they wanted to spend some of it on me, then...I couldn't stop them. And I had to admit–now that I was learning to accept it–it felt good that they wanted to make sure I was comfortable in their home and that I had whatever I needed while I was there. It certainly made things easier for me, between the four homes I went back and forth to.

Four homes, wow, things had really changed since the open house at Desire's Den. It was still unbelievable at times, but what was even more unbelievable was how fast I'd gotten used to it.

Searching through the drawer, I found the makeup I needed. Callan had even managed to match my foundation perfectly–something I'd never been able to. Still, I couldn't really be surprised; he was as observant as they came.

I chose light eyeshadow and picked a red lipstick to finish the look. I'd heard once that you should only have either heavy eyes or heavy lips when doing makeup, but never both. They mentioned something about balance, and while I might not necessarily agree, I still made that rule my own. I knew too little about makeup to experiment anyway, so it was better to keep it simple. Though, I wasn't totally unknowledgeable either. I didn't grow up in the age of YouTube and makeup gurus without learning a thing or two.

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Swiping my lashes with mascara, I said myself done and went to get dressed. The bust and waistline fit around my breast snuggly without it being too tight. Below the waistline, the dress flared out slightly and ended just beneath my knees. It had the kind of material that made me think of Marilyn Monroe's white dress in that famous picture of hers. If the wind would blow up on my skirt, it would surely lift the dress's hem, similar to what happened to her.

Walking back to the bathroom, I pulled out the hair tie and let down my hair. I combed my fingers through the strands and made it look presentable. It wasn't as curly as I'd wished, but it would do.

As I was getting myself ready, all I could think about was tonight. Callan had said we were going on a date two times now, and with the formal clothing, it made it feel even more real. This was way different than what we usually did, and while I loved being dominated by these men, I couldn't wait for this–whatever "this" was.

I could hear Callan had entered the bedroom, and I was suddenly glad I'd closed the door to the bathroom by habit. I wanted to see his expression when he first saw me in this dress.

For the first time in a long while, I felt beautiful as I walked out to meet him. My heart pounded nervously in my chest, waiting for his reaction. He wasn't in the bedroom now, but the door to the closet was ajar, and light spilled through the crack.

Wringing my hands, I waited until he came out, and when he finally did, my heart stopped. He wore a black fitted suit, with a tie that matched my dress perfectly. His brown hair was combed back, but while it was styled, it still looked as rugged as ever–just the way I loved it. I felt like each time I saw him, he only grew sexier.

While I'd stared at him, I had failed to notice him staring back until my eyes met his piercing green ones. Though, they weren't as green now with his pupils enlarged. He held me prisoner in his gaze; I was unable to move from the weight of them.

Slowly, he looked me over, taking in my entire body in the clothes he'd chosen for me. I was powerless to do anything but stand, albeit on shaky legs. The way he was watching me was definitely predatorial and so full of heat that I struggled to think about anything but him and all the things he could do to me.

I was just about to say "fuck the date" and jump his bones when he gave me his trademark smirk. "You look even better in that dress than I envisioned," he said huskily. "Of course, it'll look better falling off of your body, but I can wait."

Well, I couldn't wait. Damn it, I felt like he had dangled a perfectly cooked steak in my face this entire day while I was starving and then denied me the food.

Did I just...? Did I just compare him to food? Yes. Yes, I did. Weirdo.

"What are you laughing about?" Callan asked curiously. He'd moved closer to me without me noticing and was now standing in front of me. I had to crane my neck so I could talk to his face rather than his chest.

"I was just thinking about something," I said and shook my head at my silly thoughts. "You really don't want to know."

He leaned down towards me and whispered. "No?" His breath fluttered over my lips as he spoke. He was close enough to kiss.

"Nope," I whispered back, desperation for him seeping into my voice.

"That's too bad." He pulled away. "Put on your shoes, and let's go on our date."

Cursing him under my breath, I stalked towards the heels he'd picked out for me. "Such a tease," I muttered. His laugh told me he'd heard me.

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