Three Guilty Pleasures (Blindfold Club 6)

She made a face like she was going to be ill, but was distracted as a new message popped up.

Regan: I’m disappointed you couldn’t obey, but respect you telling us.

Regan: Your punishment is he spanks you hard enough I can make out the fingers. We expect a picture shortly.

It was strange to take orders from someone else, but not . . . unpleasant. Her demand made me hot. Perhaps I would be less receptive to the idea if I wasn’t so intrigued to follow it. The concept of taking Tara over my knee and then sending the picture proof to her doms was sexy.

Tara’s eyes glittered with desire in the dark of the back seat. “Do you want to do that?”

She was asking me if I was comfortable with this. Spanking her. Following the command. The word was thick with lust. “Yes.”

I put my cello case down in the corner and dropped my bag in my room, then focused my attention on her. Tara stood patiently in my living room, waiting. I was her de facto Dominant and she was my submissive, and when I sat in the wooden chair I used for practice, she moved to stand by my side. I liked how she was so attentive. Always attune to what I was thinking.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

I gave her a skeptical look. “Are you?”

She’d changed before we left the theatre, slipping into glossy black leggings, a gray t-shirt, and a maroon biker jacket. As usual, she was a total smoke show. She’d shed her boots and jacket when we’d come into my apartment, and now she wiggled down the top of her pants until they were below her ass.

I stared at her nakedness and began to grow hard. Did it make her uncomfortable to lie over my lap, my swelling erection digging into her stomach? She said nothing. Instead, she put her arms behind her back and grasped her elbows with the opposite hand.

The pose punched a sound of satisfaction from me. I caressed a palm over the smooth globe of her ass and enjoyed her gentle sigh. “This doesn’t feel like punishment,” I whispered.

She sounded amused. “Probably because you haven’t done it yet.”

I took in a preparing breath and reared my hand back. I wasn’t sure if I was asking her a second time, or myself. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t want to hurt her, but I also wanted to obey the rules, and figured she could handle it. She worked for years at a BDSM club, after all. I brought my hand down, and the sharp slap was followed by her gasp.

I was nervous until she turned over her shoulder and looked at me with a surprised grin. “You went for it. I thought you might not do it hard enough.”

“I was supposed to leave a mark, yeah?” When she shifted, it felt good and uncomfortable on my cock at the same time. “Give me your phone.”

She did, and I took the shot then passed it back to her. A smile teased her lips as she viewed the image. There was a perfectly pink handprint across her pale skin. “Nice work.”

“Anytime,” I said. And I meant it. I wasn’t experienced in this area, but like everything new, I was curious and excited to learn.

She rose off me, sent the image, and Regan’s reply came as Tara pulled up her pants.

&nbs

p; Regan: I’ll give you one on the other side tonight. So you have a matching set.

She typed back a response, and since she didn’t have pockets, she nestled her phone in her bra. “I’m hungry, but also sleepy, and I can’t decide which I want first. Dinner, or a nap.”

“I wasn’t tired until you said the word nap, and now it’s all I can think about.”

We shuffled along into my dark bedroom, put our phones on the nightstands, and collapsed on the unmade bed. We were still in our clothes, but neither cared as we snuggled together under the covers. She fit so perfectly in my arms and in my bed. Did she feel the same? Was I enough for her?

“What are they like?” It was stupid to ask now since we’d meet them in a few hours, but I was curious about how she saw them.

“Silas and Regan?” She laced our fingers together. “They’re an interesting pair. She’s an accountant, and he’s an artist. Practical meets creative. Actually, he’s the one who did my tattoo.”

For a moment, I hated him. He’d literally put his mark on her, and it was permanent.

But his artwork was also undeniably beautiful, and if he hadn’t . . . I never would have recognized her.