Three Guilty Pleasures (Blindfold Club 6)

I went back to my task with newfound enthusiasm, created by her praise. I sucked until it carved hollows in my cheeks. I pumped my tight fist along with my mouth, working him over until the muscles in his neck flexed and strained. His whole body shuddered, and a deep groan rose out of him as he came, thick liquid pooling in my mouth.

I swallowed it back with a smile, savoring how the bob of my throat made him flinch with sensation. His gaze down at me was intense, but pleased, and I stayed on my knees as he pulled on his pants and zipped up.

Regan strode toward the ottoman, put a foot on the edge, and shoved it out into the center of the room. It skidded across the carpet, drawing his attention. They communicated with a look, and then he bent down, hooked me under the arms, and lifted me.

I didn’t get my feet under me before he tossed me onto my back on the tufted ottoman, so hard I bounced and an “ompf” came out of me. I giggled at the ridiculous noise, but he was entirely serious, and I sobered quickly as he dropped with a thud to kneel at the end of the ottoman. He scooped me up by my knees and jerked me to the edge, shoving his face in my pussy.

“Yes,” I gasped.

Regan knelt beside him, watching us with parted lips, breathing as fast as we were. Her hand wandered over my breasts, massaging me as his mouth worked aggressively to take me right to the brink.

My heart was beating a thousand miles a second, and I struggled to find air. Everything was spinning and blurring as the pleasure closed in.

“Yeah,” he urged between frantic strokes of his tongue. “Get there.”

His order flung me past the point of no return, out of control. I gasped, seizing as bliss rocketed through my core. It was a lightning strike of ecstasy, vaporizing everything away.

She wore a delicious, dark smile, and it sent an aftershock of pleasure down my spine. I hadn’t just pleased him . . .

I’d pleased them both.

He lingered until the last of my orgasm faded, before sitting back and kissing Regan. I remained splayed out and naked on the ottoman, lying under their supervision.

“It wasn’t a full demonstration,” she said. “No anal either.”

I laughed. “Yes, Mistress.”

She was into anal play, but as far as I could tell, that was all. She probably didn’t like being that vulnerable. As a group, we hadn’t gone down that road yet. The arrangement was still new and exciting enough.

When the kiss between them ended, she focused back on me. Her expression was soft. “Start with us, before you tell him about the club.” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “If he can keep an open mind about this, then maybe . . .”

I gave her a smile that said she was kidding herself. “Yeah, right.”

She shrugged. “You never know with some people.”

Nine months ago, I’d asked Regan to take me home and let me play with her and Silas, sure I’d be shot down and end up embarrassing myself. Look where I was now.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe I’d get lucky enough to find my own unicorn.

-14-

Grant

After the concert was over, I took the loaner cello back to my apartment, changed out of the black dress shirt and pants I wore for the orchestra performance, and into jeans and a navy button-down.

I’d told Ruby I had a date tonight, and she’d been adamant if I wanted to hook the girl, I’d have to make sure I showed off my arms. She’d informed her boyfriend Kyle she’d rather receive a forearm pic over a dick pic. It was infinitely sexier, according to her.

As I rolled the sleeves back to my elbows, I chuckled to myself. When it came to Tara, I’d take every advantage I could get.

When I arrived at the restaurant, a trendy place in Wrigleyville, Tara was already waiting. She flashed a nervous smile, but I almost missed it because whistles blew loudly in my head.

Her blonde hair was pulled up into a high, sleek ponytail, creating a stream of gold silk down her back. Her black, long-sleeve shirt was opaque and just see-through enough to make out the shadow of her black bra.

The neckline. Jesus. I couldn’t catch my breath or stop staring. The shirt flaunted her skin and her cleavage and her

fucking perfect tits. Below, black leather pants with a dull shine, and she was statuesque in stilettos heels.