Page 139 of Sugar

“Not yet, mine.”

Mine.

Oh motherfucking swoon.

“How was the movie?” Cohen asked.

“Honestly? Damn good. Maddie will tell you about it another time since movies are her thing.”

My lips parted, but I caught myself before more than a squeak escaped.

Easton stared me down even as he spoke to the other man. “A different time because I’ve had to share her enough tonight.”

I pressed my lips closed.

They kept talking about the movie—and more specifically, Tripp. No one blinked when Easton touched me with tormenting frequency.

Or when he used the slack on the cuffs to yank me closer until I was biting my lip to choke back my moans.

Or when his fingertips teased my shoulder before running down to trace the curve of my breast.

Between his teasing at the movie and party, his touches in the car, and everything at Gilded, I was barely holding on. Desperation clawed at my chest until tears of frustration pooled in my eyes.

Easton noticed them, too. He was simply unmoved. If Cohen had spotted my suffering, he wasn’t concerned, either.

Shockingly, it was Atlas who called for mercy. “I think you need to get your toy home before she breaks herself.”

Easton leaned back and ran his thumb along his jaw as he studied me. “You think?”

“Nah, she seems fine to me,” Cohen said, and I could’ve beat him with the cushion under me.

I barely stifled the urge or my sob.

“Ah, hell,” Atlas bit out on my behalf.

“I guess you’re right,” Easton said after a long, agonizing minute.

Cohen wasn’t done securing his spot as public enemy number one. “You sure? I’ve been thinking we might update our NDA and wanted your feedback.”

Thankfully, Easton didn’t take the opening to extend my pain. “Next time.”

Oh good, now I don’t have to beat him. Just Cohen.

The men said their goodbyes before my date leaned forward so his face was in mine. “Did you like tonight?”

I should’ve hated it because I was so turned on, it physically hurt. I still told the truth when I admitted, “Yes.”

“Done up like a princess but on your knees for me. If I reach under that fluffy princess skirt, am I going to find a soaked mess?”

I gave him honesty again. “I’m worried I ruined the pillow.”

“Let’s go, Madeline.” He carefully unlatched my wrist before rubbing the skin there. After he helped me stand on wobbling legs, I snuck a peek at the cushion.

There was no mark.

Phew.

Only Easton didn’t share my relief.

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