Three Hard Lessons (Blindfold Club 2)

The walk across his apartment was ten miles there and twenty miles back. Uphill. I didn’t like this awkward feeling. Didn’t like being so unsure of what I was doing. I’d tugged on my tank top and shorts while my stomach did somersaults. I stepped into the doorway.

Dominic sat up in the bed, the covers around his waist. I noted the rapid rise and fall of his bare chest, and let my gaze drift up. His eyes were captivating, and stunned me motionless. His serious expression spoke volumes. Like he sensed how crossing this physical threshold was really crossing a greater one

for me. Letting him not just get his way, but letting him get . . . close.

I found my breath when the corner of his perfect mouth turned up into a smile. “I almost sent out a search party.”

“It’s easy to get lost because your place is so huge.”

I planted one foot in the room. Then, the other as I approached the bed. Could he see how anxious I was about this? It meant no backtracking. I’d be sharing a bed with him the rest of my time here.

His embrace was comforting and soothing to my jagged nerves. Live in the now, I repeated to myself. Worry about the consequences later.

chapter

FIFTEEN

I knelt before him in the tub while he stood under the stream of water with his cock buried halfway down my throat. I liked the echo of his moans across the tiled walls, and liked him snapping to attention under my command even better.

His hand brushed over my cheek, pushing back a damp clump of my hair. “Jesus, were you hungry for this cock?”

It was true. His alarm had gone off this morning and we’d stumbled sleepy-eyed to the shower, and I’d dropped my knees to the porcelain in one half of a heartbeat.

I moaned when his hand curled around the back of my head and guided me to go faster. To slide that thick, hard cock between my tight lips. It was difficult to keep my eyes open with the water misting in my face, but no fucking way was I not going to look at his body. Water poured over his hardened frame, cascaded down over the contours of the muscles beneath his smooth skin.

This moan was deep and long, and the hand clenched in my wet hair. “You like that cock in your mouth, you dirty girl? Because I fucking do.”

My eyes turned up to his, blinking rapidly in the falling water. Oh, he liked that connection of our gazes while my mouth sucked on him, and his face twisted with pleasure. His expression was primal.

Aggressive hands locked on the sides of my face. His hips moved rapidly, pumping in and out . . . fucking my mouth. A growl ripped from his chest as he approached his orgasm, and I flicked my tongue over him with each stroke.

“Oh, god,” he said¸ “here it comes.”

I moaned my approval, accepting it as he shot into the back of my throat. Pulse after pulse, mirrored with moans from above. There just wasn’t anything hotter than listening to him come. Between my legs I was slick and hot with desire.

His rapid breathing began to ebb. I put a hand on the wet tile of the wall to pull myself up, but abruptly he had me up and my back flat against it. The wall was cold, but the contrast between it and the hot man over me was nice.

“Safe word,” he said in a low voice, just louder than the shower. “I have questions about that.” His hand followed the rivulets of water coursing down between my breasts, over my belly, but he stopped at the apex of my thighs. One calculated stroke between my folds and I was trembling. How the hell did he do that?

“Mostly,” he continued, his gaze on the hand stroking me, “what do you want me to do to you that you’re worried might go too far?”

I bit down on my lip, closed my eyes, and my head thudded back against the tile. What he was doing to me downstairs was unreal. His touch was like nothing else.

“The safe word,” I said on hurried breath, “I doubt I’ll need to use it, but . . . oh, shit, I want your fingers inside me.”

“Not yet. I guess what I’m trying to say is I don’t know if I can do rough. Like the schmay-nal, it’s not something I’ve done before.” The pads of his fingers kneaded my clit, alternating pressure and speeds. “What did you have in mind?”

“It’s kind of hard to think when you’re doing that.”

“What, this?” He slipped a finger inside me and I groaned in satisfaction. “What do you like? Besides being tied up, you’ve made that clear. You want me to pull harder on your hair?”

“Yes,” I purred.

“You want me to spank you?”

It came out dripping with lust from me. “Yes.”

“You want . . . all of it? Like, whips and paddles and . . .?” His voice was decidedly less confident. “Because I don’t, like, have any experience.”