Three Sweet Nothings (Blindfold Club 5)

The vibrator continued to sing its song between her legs. Short, short, short, long.

“Mmm,” she groaned. Her back arched up toward the ceiling and her hands balled into fists. I took the head of the vibrator away, and she slid back down to rest on the bed, exhaling loudly, loaded with frustration.

“We’re going to work on our communication,” I said. When she seemed to have cooled down enough, I returned the vibrator to its home, grinding it on her clit. She whimpered and shifted, and I grinned. “You’re going to tell me how close you are.”

It didn’t take long. Two rounds and her chest was heaving. “I’m going to come.”

“No, you’re not.” I shut the wand off and set it aside while I leaned forward, scooping my hands underneath her legs.

She jerked as my mouth made contact with her swollen clit. I licked up and down, side to side, tormenting her. I started slow, and built up until she gasped for air and her legs shook.

“Tell me,” I ordered.

“I’m close.” Her moan was half of a sob. “Kyle, I’m so close.”

Chapter

TWENTY-EIGHT

I didn’t stop my tongue, but I slowed my movements. I worked it over her bundle of nerves in unhurried strokes, all while Ruby whined. The goal was to take her right to the edge then back her down from it, over and over again, until she was begging.

I dipped my tongue all the way inside and fucked her with it, before I licked upward and nuzzled.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “I’m gonna come!”

“Don’t you dare,” I ordered, lifting my mouth away. I ran my hands sensually over her body, massaging and touching.

She shivered as she reluctantly stepped back from her orgasm. Her word was almost silent, a ghost. “Please.”

“No.” I turned the vibrator back on, set it between her breasts, and slowly traced it downward. She knew where it was going, but I wasn’t in a rush to get there. I wanted every inch I got closer to fill her with more nervous anticipation. “Give me a safe word.”

She swallowed a breath as the vibrator crossed over her belly button. “I need a safe word?”

“No might come out of you soon when you don’t mean it. Humor me.”

“I can’t think.” The vibrating head of the wand was only a few inches from its destination. It crept lower, lower still, until . . . “Oh, God. Michael Bublé.”

The laugh halted in my lungs. “Michael Bublé,” I repeated. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“New Year’s Eve,” she hissed, enduring the pleasure I was inflicting on her.

My free hand was resting on her knee, and it clenched instinctively. The slow dance and the kiss. This was a good sign.

“Okay.” Hopefully she couldn’t hear my excitement over the hum of the machine. “I’ll stop if you say stop. Or Michael Bublé.”

Her breathy word was sarcastic. “Great.”

“Getting close again?” I changed the pattern to a steady pulse, and she groaned. “Tell me when you’re about to come.”

She said nothing, but her body betrayed her. The muscles low on her stomach flinched and quivered, so I spread her folds open with my fingers, exposing her clit, and tapped the vibrator against it.

Her frustrated whimpers got me hot. Even though her ankles were cuffed, she could still move her knees inward, and she tried to close herself off to me. I put a hand on the inside of her thigh and pushed it open, giving her correction.

“Shit,” she blurted out. “Fuck, make me come.”

“No, no, no, Ruby.” I kept tapping at her, giving her a hit of pleasure and then pulling it away. “We’re just getting started.”

Was her expression horror?