Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club 4)

“Yeah? Then do it.” I moaned as my fingers fumbled faster, searching for release that I wanted to come from him.

“You’re so goddamn hot, Regan. Why’d you bolt last time?”

I made a face. I didn’t want to get into it. “Can we not, right now?”

He leaned over, snatched my wrist, and flung it away. Then he fisted the front of my panties, urging them down. More clicks of the camera. I lifted my hips to make it easier. What did we look like? I was sprawled out beneath him as he dragged the underwear down my legs. I couldn’t wait to see the photos.

He’d said he’d edit my face out, but what about his? Maybe I could talk him into letting me keep a few just for myself before he altered them. It was because he was so . . . captivating. His strong jaw flexed when I was finally naked, as if the sight of it were almost too much.

I launched upright, shoved his hand aside, and wrapped both of mine around his cock. He was insanely hard, and throbbing. It turned me on even more to know this was my effect. I pumped my hands on him and enjoyed his reaction. He shuddered in my grip.

“Spread that pussy wide for the camera.”

It wasn’t a request, he demanded it. Any other time I would have balked, but not tonight. Common sense and my unwillingness to submit had burned away with my desire. I shifted on the rug so I faced the camera, and he slipped behind me. He positioned us so I was leaning against his chest, my bent knees open wide like I had nothing to hide, even though I did.

His damp lips ghosted kisses on the spot where my neck met my body, and goosebumps lifted on my legs. He moved fast then. My arms were tugged behind my back and out of view of the lens, so Silas could press the remote into one of my palms.

“This one,” he whispered, and pushed my finger on a button, “works the shutter. I want you to catch your face right as you’re coming.”

Right as I was—?

He’d passed me the remote so he could free up both of his hands, and instantly the pads of his fingers were tracing patterns on my legs. They slid over the inside of my knees as he scooted closer. His thick, muscular legs were on either side of me and his hard-on dug into the small of my back. Since my hands were already there, I closed my free one around his cock and squeezed.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Harder.”

I complied, tightening on the thick column of flesh. Soft as velvet on the tip, but rigid. Silas sank his teeth into my skin. The sudden sting of pain caused me to jolt, and I pressed the button on the remote without meaning to, at the same instant my knees tried to snap shut.

Oh, God. I swallowed a breath as he forced my knees back open, and a half-second later his palm was on my pussy, the heat soaking into me. I gulped another breath as his hand ground against my slit. Thick, probing fingers teased and pleasured, and I took another picture because I wanted to see what this moment looked like.

His hands were on fire.

One roamed over my body while the other focused only between my legs. He fingered my clit and my head fell back to rest against his shoulder. His touch, and his mouth sucking on my neck, made me weak, and it was the only kind of weak I could tolerate being. Was the air around us static-charged? It sure the hell felt like it.

“Oh my God,” I said breathlessly.

Tremors crept up my legs when his fingers stirred faster. His other hand worked my breast, kneading and pinching. My fi

st on his cock moved slowly, but it was awkward with my hand behind my back. I couldn’t get my grip as tight or as comfortable as I wanted it. But I wasn’t about to let go. I liked giving pleasure just as much as receiving it . . . maybe more so.

“You want to just do this all night?” His evil tone mocked me, and I loved it. “Are you going to suck me off and run away again?”

Had I wounded his ego that much by not fucking him? “What are you complaining about? You got a blow job.”

“Yeah, an amazing one, but let a guy buy you some fucking dinner afterward. It’s polite.”

His dark tone singed me further, and how did he expect me to respond when he was touching me like this? I choked back a moan when his index finger dipped into my body, and I clenched around it. God, it all felt so good. The fingers tugging on my nipple, the scruff of his chin against my shoulder, the tempo he’d started to fuck me with his finger . . . and the remote in my hand, letting me control when to capture each moment between us.

His chest rose and fell quicker as I twisted my grip on him, trying to match his pace. My head lolled toward him so I could peer up into his eyes. Breath came and went rapidly through his parted lips, and his forehead was creased in what looked like concentration. He’d been staring down, perhaps at my pussy, or maybe his gaze stopped at my breasts, but it lifted and met mine.

He was so good looking it wasn’t even fair.

I moaned loudly as his finger withdrew and resumed its circles on my swollen clit. Once again, his touch was a live wire. I jolted with pleasure, crying out as the build deep in my belly began. The orgasm swelled like a hurricane, picking up intensity when he lowered his mouth to mine.

His kiss—it took without asking permission. It was unapologetic and demanding, and as the orgasm dawned in me, I felt a new sensation. Conquered. And the scariest thing was I didn’t hate it like I thought I would. For some insane reason, I’d allow this man to do it.

“Oh, fuck!” I broke our kiss and squeezed my finger tight on the button. The lights flashed softly just as the first wave of bliss rolled up from my center, and I convulsed in his steady, sure embrace. Heat pumped through my veins as I came, delivering delicious shivers.

Holy hell, the orgasm was amazing. I gasped for breath, my grip on his cock slowing to a distracted stop, but he pulsed in my hand, as if enjoying watching me fall apart.