Page 128 of B is for Beg

“I suppose I was just expecting…” Gabe pinches his lips together.

“More?” Blake asks.

“Yes.”

“Me too,” I say with a sigh. “Strike it off the list?”

“No,” Gabe says. “I don’t think we should write it off just yet. We could make this place a beautiful home, even if the second bedroom is an odd shape.”

He’s not wrong.

“Unless you two both love it,” Gabe carries on. “That would be good enough for me.”

“I don’t love it,” Blake says. “It’s nice and way more impressive than anywhere I ever thought I’d live, but it’s kind of soulless.”

“That’s a good way of describing it.” I stand between them and put a hand on each of their backs. I’m tempted to run my hand over Blake’s arse so I can feel the anal plug, but I resist. It wouldn’t do to make him squirm while we’re in the company of an estate agent. “Let’s move on. We’ve got another couple of places to see this afternoon.”

After a short tube ride, we get to property number three. Or serious contender number two. It’s an apartment split over two levels of a massive Georgian house. Standing and looking at the neat row of terraced houses from the outside, I find it amazing that each house used to contain only one family and their servants. Now most of them have been divided into apartments of varying sizes. It won’t give us the sort of view I’m used to having, but maybe it’ll have more character.

The apartment we’re looking at is on the top two floors, accessed via a communal staircase or a lift. We ignore the lift and follow the estate agent up the stairs.

“Oh,” Blake says as we step inside the apartment.

The expression on his face says it all. His jaw is slack, his mouth hanging open as he stares around with wide eyes. The living space isn’t huge, but it’s bright and airy, with light parquet flooring up to the kitchen, which has dark square tiles. There’s a bay window and a fully fitted kitchen, which lines the back wall. I can already picture how I’d lay furniture out. A sofa and chairs by the bay to make the most of the light, and a dining table and chairs in the centre, where the room narrows to make space for the staircase.

My mind goes to adventurous places as I look at the staircase with its white balusters and floating steps. I glance at Gabe. His lips are pinched in thought, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He must be imagining the same thing I am—Blake, wrapped up in intricate shibari rope patterns, suspended from the staircase.

“Let’s look upstairs,” I suggest.

Gabe and Blake follow me up to the next floor. There’s a small landing, with a modern bathroom on our right and then two bedrooms straight ahead. There’s barely any difference in their size, though one has an en suite with a shower. Again, large windows make both rooms light and airy, and the bathrooms with their marble towers lend an opulent yet homey feel to the place.

“It’s beautiful,” Gabe says.

“Can we afford it?” Blake asks, staring at us both.

“We wouldn’t be here if we couldn’t,” Gabe reminds him.

“Do you like it?” I resist the urge to call Blake ‘princess’ in front of the estate agent.

He nods. “I love it. Do you?” He raises his eyebrows, his eyes large and hopeful.

“Yes.” I put my arms around their necks and pull them close for a hug. “It feels like home.”

Gabe looks at the estate agent. “Can we get all the paperwork filled in today? I doubt a place like this is going to stay on the rental market for long.”

“Of course,” the estate agent says, pulling some sheets of paper out of the folder she’s been carrying around.

We go back downstairs so we can lean on the kitchen counters. Every second I spend in the apartment makes me want it even more. I hope we get it. It’s one of those moments where the three of us need to cross our fingers and toes. I’ve already given notice on my apartment, but we agreed that Gabe should hang on to his maisonette until we had found somewhere and had a moving-in date. Worst case, Blake and I can move in with him until we find the perfect place.

We go to see the last apartment on our list, but it only cements what we already know. We’ve already found our perfect homeifour application gets accepted.

As much as I’d like to treat my men to dinner out, I’m conscious that Blake is wearing an anal plug still, which probably won’t be comfortable for much longer. After a brief conversation with Gabe, conducted via whispers too quiet for our princess to hear, we decide to go back to his place rather than mine, as we’d originally planned. Blake knew we were talking about him, of course, but he simply grinned at us while we plotted. Hopefully, his mind is running riot with all the delicious things we might do to him. We did promise that it would be his turn to come after our apartment-hunting expedition.

“Here’s the plan, princess,” I say the moment we’re inside and the door is shut behind us.

Blake looks at me expectantly.

“Your Daddy is going to tie you up and blindfold you, and then we’re going to pleasure you until you’re begging us to come.”