Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club #4) (18 page)

Tara wanted someone who would guide her through the scene. A Dominant who was powerful yet attentive.

I could be that.

Her chest moved with steady breath, unconcerned. Was there already a level of trust between us? I set my hand on her cheekbone and lowered down, pressing my lips to her damp ones.

Tara answered my kiss eagerly. The muscles in her arms flexed against the restraints as if she wanted to touch me, but couldn’t. I kept the kiss light, setting the tone. This was going to be about pleasure, not connection. When her lips parted and her tongue sought mine, I moved away, taking my mouth down the delicate curve of her neck.

Her knees clamped together. Why was that? An evil smile drew across my lips. Was my innocent kiss turning her on, or was this in anticipation of what was to come? I had theories, and was anxious to test them.

Tara had beautiful, proportional breasts. Tight, pink nipples that hardened perfectly, and called out to be touched, and I did so. My hand on her cheek coursed down over her soft skin, over her chest where I could feel her rapid heartbeat, and onto her warm breast.

“Yes,” she whispered. Her back bent, straining up into my touch.

A power I’d never had flowed through me, taking command. It was shockingly exciting to have this level of control, not just of her, but of both people in the room. Silas’s lust-filled gaze burned into me, watching as I squeezed her flesh and manipulated the sensitive bud. How long would he be able to watch like this? Could I bring him to orgasm without even touching him?

I kept my gaze locked on his as I bent over and ran my tongue on her hardened nipple. She issued a soft moan of encouragement. Silas didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His eyes clouded with desire, and his hand on the armrest went white-knuckled, blending with the white upholstery.

A dark force inside me, one that had hovered in the shadows, took over. There was no shame in what I was doing, only need. A desire to take this woman right to the brink of ecstasy and then send her tumbling over into it, all while the man in the chair watched.

I grew hot and slick between my legs.

Tara moaned louder when I drew her nipple into my mouth gently grasped it between my teeth, sliding my tongue on it. Her knees rubbed together and the leather beneath her groaned in protest as she shifted.

I released her from my mouth and placed a hand on her knee, working to ease them apart. My hand slid up and down her inner thigh, threatening close to her pussy but not quite there. Goosebumps pebbled on her skin, and she squirmed under my hand. Her reaction made me power-drunk in a heartbeat. I wanted . . .
more
. More moans from her, more desperation. I wanted to hear her plead and beg.

“Yes.” She gasped it, and I rewarded her. My thumb brushed at her seam, right over her swollen clit. She flinched with what seemed to be pleasure.

Silas inhaled a deep breath and his reaction fed into my power, making it easier to shed the awkwardness I’d felt initially. My thumb stirred a circle and teased, and a tremor flashed up her legs.

“Oh, God, Regan—”

“Be quiet.” My tone was sharp as a knife and she winced, but it got her hot. Her chest heaved, and I was barely touching her. “You don’t speak unless I ask you a question. Understood?”

She nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ma’am.
The shift into her submission role happened in a blink of an eye.

“That’s very proper and respectful,” the dark force inside me said. “Let’s see if you can keep it up.”

I’d just laid my first rule on her, so I needed to be ready if she broke it or chose to ignore the command. There were tools in the drawers beneath the table. Whips, crops, paddles . . . The implements shifted noisily as I yanked the drawer open and found what I was looking for.

The thin pole was jet black and a small swatch of leather adorned the tip. It probably made barely a sound when it cut through the air. With the blindfold on, she wouldn’t see it coming, and even if it did make noise, there wouldn’t be time to tense or run from the strike. The crop was laid beside her on the table so it was easily in reach.

Her moan was deep, almost guttural, when I plunged my index finger all the way inside her pussy. She was like hot silk. Her body bore down on me, wordlessly asking me to thrust. Instead, I stared at Silas.

“Do you like watching?” I asked.

“Yes.”

Everything about him was . . . intense. His eyes, his expression, even his body language. He sat rigid on the chair, but somehow he still seemed powerful. As if he were a king on a throne, barely needing to speak, and yet his presence was felt by all.

My finger retreated and gradually slipped back inside her body until my knuckles were pressed against her damp skin. Tara issued a soft sigh. I moved my hand again, picking up my pace, and let her arousal coat my fingers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I said. “And your pussy looks good enough to eat.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, probably to stay quiet. Silas made a tight noise, like a choked-back sound of excitement, and my lips tugged into a pleased smile. But I’d need to adjust her positioning so I would be comfortable, and he could watch from his seat.

“Move down to the edge of the table,” I ordered. “Spread those legs wide.”

Like all of the women at the club, Tara was bare everywhere below the neck. The leather cushion-top squealed as she slipped down until she was right at the edge. As I had commanded her, she opened her legs, bent her knees, and set her feet flat on the table. Her arms were straight, her bound wrists above her head and resting against the leather.

I’d never gone down on another woman, but I’d been curious, and I figured I wouldn’t be awful at it. I’d been the receiver enough times to know some tricks. Yet, I was still anxious.
No
, the dark voice in my head cried. I wasn’t going to allow doubt to get in my way. My motto with confidence was “fake it until you make it” and I’d apply it here and now to my role as scene top.

My heels were steady and sure as I walked to the end of the table and stepped up, keeping my body to one side so I wouldn’t block his view. I used two hands on her, my left palm flat where her slit began and my thumb on her clit, and two fingers from my right pushed inside.

Her gasp was full of appreciation, but mixed with need. Would she stay quiet as instructed? There was an itch deep inside me I wanted to scratch. I needed her to break this rule because I was so fucking desperate to know what would happen next. Would I enjoy delivering a correcting tap of the riding crop against her creamy skin?

When I moved my hands together, something that sounded like a word came from her lips, but it was mumbled. I snatched up the crop and touched the tip to the center of her chest, letting her feel the soft leather that could also generate a stinging burn if I wanted it to. I traced it between her breasts. It mapped a course over her heaving skin, down over her belly.

The crop was placed across her hips, my fingertips holding it in place. A warning to her.

I returned to my original task. My thumb rubbed across the tight bundle of nerves between her legs, while I fucked her with my hand, each thrust going deeper and harder. It was impossible not to think about the man I had my back to. What I was doing turned me on, but letting him see me like this . . .

No one else knew about this side of me. Certainly no one had seen it. Was he judging me? I glanced over my shoulder, hoping his expression wouldn’t fill me with shame.

By God, it didn’t.

His mouth hung open. His eyes were half-lidded with desire, and in his lap, a hand covered his erection. No, wait. It was moving. Silas glanced down at his stroking hand, then his gaze lifted back to mine, a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

“If you’d asked me yesterday,” he said between deep breaths, “if you could be any hotter, I would have said no. And I would have been really . . . fucking . . .
wrong
.”

Heat seared through me in the best possible way, waking up every last cell. I turned back to Tara while his approving words echoed in my mind. Her hips were moving to match my tempo and her breathing grew shallow. Her cherry-painted toenails curled as an orgasm approached.

Her displeased moan was swallowed when I stopped moving, leaving her unfulfilled. My job wasn’t just to give her pleasure, but to
control
it. I’d build her up to maximize the release, and it was far too soon for it. There was so much I wanted to do, and watching her get close was exciting.

I withdrew from her completely, letting her orgasm fade and leaving the crop resting there. I needed a moment to collect myself. It was important to pace it right, to make sure I didn’t get overwhelmed, and to focus on what I was about to do.

This was a big line to cross. No going back.

She startled as my hands touched her knees. I skimmed my fingers along her soft, smooth skin, moving bit by bit to her center, and once again her breathing went shallow. Sex clung in the air, thick as fog, as I lowered into her.

“Mmm,” Tara moaned through pressed lips when my fingers spread her open and my breath rolled over her sensitized skin.

“I’m going to lick this pussy.” My voice went deep and husky. I’d said it as a test to try to get her to speak, but she didn’t say a word. I leaned in the last crucial inch, and touched my lips to her.

The ribbons holding her in place snapped and went taut as she jolted and inhaled. She was a sensitive girl. I’d seen clients wring orgasms from her easily with their tongues, so I knew I’d have to dial back, otherwise she’d come in just a few strokes.

She tasted . . . good. Salty, and sort of sweet, and my tongue flitted over her, lapping at her arousal. The chair creaked as Silas shifted in his seat. Was I blocking his view, or was he trying to get his dick out?

I sucked and nipped, then returned to focusing all of my energy on getting her close again. My tongue worked back and forth, sliding over the crease of skin that gave the most pleasure.

She panted. Her back arched, then slammed down on the table. But I couldn’t ignore that she was squirming, and it felt too much like she was trying to lead me, so I drew away.

She wasn’t able to stifle her complaint this time, and the frustrated noise was a loud whine. All it did was send more power flooding through me and I savored the taste. She looked amazing spread out, her pale skin contrasting against the black leather. I wiped a hand on my mouth and turned to face him, peeling my jacket off my shoulders.

Silas was breathing like he’d just sprinted a mile and looked drunk with lust.

I grinned. Why did this turn me on so badly? It was impossibly erotic. “Is it too quiet for you?”

“No.” His tone was dark and wicked. “There’s plenty to listen to.”

There definitely was. Her labored breathing echoed in the room, slowing from its frantic rate. I paced to the door and hung the jacket on the hook, over her silk robe. Then, I went to her again, satisfied I’d walked her back from the cliff, and began her journey upward once more. This time I used both my hand and my mouth. Tara cried out, her head buried into the side of her arm.

“Don’t you dare come,” I ordered, but continued to fuck her. Her pussy was soft as velvet against my tongue, and drenching on my fingers. The muscles in Tara’s lower body clenched and strained, holding the swell of pleasure back, but judging by her tremors, it was a losing battle.

“Please,” she whispered.

Finally
.

Chapter

FOURTEEN

I snatched up the crop and slapped it against Tara’s inner thigh, the sound punctuating the quiet like a gun retort. She jerked and gasped against the strike.

“Please,” she cried again.

I struck her on the opposite side, harder this time, and watched the red flush bloom on her skin. She moaned, but it wasn’t in pain. Her petal pink lips were parted, and what could be seen of her expression with the blindfold on was clearly bliss.

“
Please
.”

I wasn’t sure what she was asking for anymore. To come, or for another lash, or maybe both. My hand tightened on the grip of the riding crop and I swung, the tip landing right against her clit. I’d been careful not to put too much into the action. I’d overheard Joseph training a Dom once, and he’d instructed the man to let the instrument do the work.

Tara cried out and bit down hard on her bottom lip. Her body erupted upward, scrambling to run from the sting I’d inflicted on her, even as it was too late.

Christ, I felt more alive than ever, but my voice was harsh. “I told you not to speak unless I asked a question. Didn’t I make that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she blurted out. “I mean, ma’am.”

Her slip-up set me on fire. In her hazy mind, she saw me as a Dom, or equal to one, and I fucking loved it. I dropped the stick into the drawer with a loud clatter, stormed to the other end of the table, and set about undoing the straps from their anchors.

My gaze went up to the chandelier. I kicked off my heels as my hands tore at the straps and pulled them free.