Three Guilty Pleasures (Blindfold Club 6)

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned.

“That’s also off limits,” Regan said from her perch on the couch, watching as her boyfriend ate me out. It was filthy and hot, and good lord, I didn’t want this scene to end.

The stroke of Silas’s tongue was wet velvet. Warm and lush, and the muscles low in my belly clenched with pleasure. I bucked back into his face, wanting more contact, and when my skirt started to fall, his hands were there, keeping it out of his way.

Blood raced through my veins, spreading fire as I built toward orgasm. My legs quivered while his tongue probed and teased. If I had use of my hands, I would have reached back to grab a fistful of his hair and hold him to me, riding him until I came all over his face.

But I obeyed, leaving my palms pressed to the wall, my lower body trembling and threatening to give out. His tongue moved slower, distracted as his fingers searched for the zipper at the back of my bunched-up skirt.

He found it. It inched down with a soft vrrrp, and he drew back, letting the sequined fabric fall to my silver heels.

“Turn around.”

I spun in place, leaving my arms up so the backs of my hands and shoulder blades were flush against the wall. Now that I had things to look at, I wasn’t sure where to focus. Did I lock eyes with Regan and hold her gaze while she watched Silas fuck me with his mouth? Or did I give all my attention to the dominant leading me through the scene?

He made the decision for me. Silas stood, seized the hem of my shirt, and dragged the silk up. There was nowhere else to look but at him. In the candlelight, the angles of his face were more pronounced, more attractive. The white silk disrupted our gazes for a moment as it passed over my head, and he flung it away. I leaned back against the wall, heaving air into my body, and his attention went to the rise and fall of my chest. Or perhaps the white lacy bra I wore. “Take it off,” he demanded. “And then hands at your sides.”

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; I did, and when the bra fell to the floor, I was completely naked. His gaze skittered over my bare flesh, and I felt it like invisible fingers, touching me everywhere.

He didn’t seem affected, not in his expression, but his quiet, uneven voice gave it away. “This is allowed.” When I swallowed a gulp of air, Silas stepped up to me, cupped my breasts, and dropped a kiss on my lips. “So is this.”

I had permission to stand totally nude in front of Grant. He could touch me and kiss me, but nothing more. It was cruel, almost evil, to give us some leeway. It meant temptation would be difficult to overcome.

It was strange to kiss Silas. He was a good kisser, but it was completely different than the one I’d had with Grant several hours ago. Silas’s kiss was like dancing too close to the fire—hot, but risky. Regan was there watching, which flavored his lips with danger.

His palms slid over my breasts, teasing my hard nipples for a moment, and then coursed downward. It was so he could undo the snap of his jeans and drop his zipper. He moved so fast, it didn’t register what had happened until his hand was hard on my shoulder, pushing me down and my knees into the carpet.

Yes. The longer we played this game, the more eager I was to check things off the list. Were hand jobs allowed? He dug his pierced cock out of his boxers, and as soon as it was free, I closed my fists around it, squeezing and twisting down his length.

“This?” I whispered, staring up at him with hopeful eyes.

He flung his hands up on the wall to support himself and peered down at me, his gaze burning. It was more growled than spoken. “No. You can touch him everywhere but here.”

It was only for Silas. I was disappointed but also . . . not really. It was fun to pretend that these rules would apply, but they never would. Grant would walk as soon as he found out he’d have to share.

Silas closed his fist over mine, stilling me. Was I doing it wrong? Did he need it harder? No—he’d done it because he had another rule to define. He steadied himself and pressed the tip of his dick to my lips.

“Only me,” he said. “Say it.”

“Only you—”

When I parted my lips to speak, he took advantage and drove as deep inside my mouth as he could get. I backed off until my head thumped against the wall, giving me no escape.

His thrusts were aggressive, plunging all the way to the back of my throat and forcing tears into my eyes, but fuck, how I loved it. A sound of rich, dirty satisfaction came from him, and it was my reward. Pleasing someone else filled me with ecstasy. It was a different kind of orgasm. Muted, but deeper and longer.

I choked as he pushed right to the edge of what I could take, and he retreated. Saliva trailed from my mouth, spilling over my kiss-swollen lips, and dribbled on my chin. I didn’t wipe it away. I left the glossy mess on my lips and smiled up at him, ready to try again.

He was hard as steel, and wide enough it didn’t take long for my jaw to ache and my tongue to grow tired of swirling over him. I couldn’t hear Regan over his grunts and quiet moans of enjoyment, but I imagined she had a nice view. Silas’s undone jeans hanging across the tops of his thighs, the muscles in his tight ass flexing as he thrust into my mouth.

She stirred on the couch. Was she touching herself? Taking off her clothes and going to join us? I pushed my way down as far as I could go on his cock, moving my head side to side to try to gain a few more centimeters.

“Fucking yes,” he groaned. “Take it.”

I tried, but my gag reflex protested loudly, and I backed off, gasping for breath.

Regan was standing by his side, her head leaning on his shoulder, and was transfixed by his cock buried between my lips. She didn’t just approve of this, it got her hot, and her voice was hurried with excitement. “Such a good girl.”