Three Guilty Pleasures (Blindfold Club 6)

She murmured it into the silk. “Thank you.”

Her hands continued their slow slide, working their way beneath my robe. She pushed the silk out of her way, kissing along the top of my thigh. Joseph set the riding crop back on my lips, and once again, the taste of the cane filled my mouth.

Regan was content to explore and work her way toward my pussy, her hands at the knot of my robe, until she remembered she wasn’t in charge. She looked up at him, begging permission with her eyes.

“After you put your skirt down, yes. She’s earned a little reward.” He stepped back, as if letting Regan have the stage with me. Silas sank down into his seat as she shimmied her skirt back into place and moved eagerly to undo my robe.

The air was cool against my skin as she pulled the fabric back, and my nipples perked instantly. Regan didn’t waste time teasing. She was ravenous, and as soon as her head was between my legs, her tongue found me.

I clenched the crop so hard with my teeth, I wondered if it would be permanently bent when Joseph pulled it from my lips. Her mouth was hot and incessant. It had me writhing and whining as the men watched, and I couldn’t imagine a more erotic image.

I clutched handfuls of the silk by my side. What did Grant think about this? Did he enjoy watching a woman go down on me? The one who had forbidden him from doing it? I wanted to know if he was turned on.

The whole time we’d been together, he’d known I worked here. He’d read my entire journal. And yet he hadn’t run away—he’d come back for more. Didn’t that mean something?

No. I refused to let it. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the stroke of her lush tongue. Goosebumps blossomed on my legs, and tingles raced along my spine.

Joseph snapped his fingers over my face, making my eyes fly open. “Look at him,” he demanded, pointing to Grant. “Let him see how much you like her tongue in your pussy.”

It was an order, so I had to obey. I lifted my head and turned to look at him.

It was a miracle the rod didn’t snap in two in my mouth. The way he fucking looked at me, while restrained to that big, white chair, it nearly sent me over the edge. Desire was in his expression, but so was love.

You aren’t allowed to love me, I wanted to yell. You forfeited that right. But I couldn’t say anything because the riding crop was nestled in my teeth, and I wasn’t sure if I believed it, anyway.

When I was panting and dangerously close to coming, Joseph put a hand on Regan’s shoulder, easing her back. “That’s enough for the moment. Go back to your seat.”

Normally, she would have delighted in denying my orgasm, but she looked disappointed tonight. She ran her hand over her lips, wiping away my arousal, and shuffled back to her chair beside Silas.

The crop was pulled from my mouth. “Up,” Joseph said.

As I stepped down from the table, the open robe slipped off a shoulder. He caught it, pulled it the rest of the way off, and left me standing naked in the center of the room as he went to hang it on the back of the door.

I held my head high. He’d taught us girls at the club to realize confidence was sexy, and better yet, powerful. I felt that way, until Joseph gave me my next set of instructions.

“Unbutton Grant’s shirt.”

My shoulders slumped. How the fuck was I going to do that? He was chained to the chair, and I was naked, and I’d have to lean over him to do it . . .

The riding crop slapped against my breast, right across a nipple, drawing a gasp from me.

“We’re waiting.”

Fuck Joseph and his authoritarian tone. He was so good at making me yo-yo between being angry to thrilled and back again in the same scene. I stormed over to Grant’s chair. If I was going to do this, I’d do it in the most unsexy way possible. I grabbed his shirt and plucked at the buttons furiously, not making eye contact.

This time, Joseph’s crop landed on the back of my thigh, and I yelped.

“Slower,” he hissed.

It was pointless to fight. He always got his way. I slowed my movements, undoing one button at a time. It was unavoidable, since our faces were only inches away, that our gazes met, like a magnetic force pulled us together. And the second Grant realized I was looking at him, the words tumbled from his mouth.

“Tara, if this is all we—”

I jumped out of the way as

the crop came down and smacked across his thigh. It wasn’t cute or playful or even corrective. This was punishment, plain and simple. Joseph would not be disobeyed or lose control of a scene, and he needed Grant to understand.

“Motherfucker,” Grant groaned under his breath.