“Put your hands on the armrests,” Scott said. “Bend over him, but don’t touch him.”
Matt moved his arms out of the way. First he folded them across his chest. Then he put them his hands in his lap. Chest. Lap.
I did as Scott ordered, and Matt’s posture stiffened as I leaned over him. God only knew what Scott had up his sleeve, but—
Slap.
Matt jumped. I bit my lip.
Slap.
Oh God. Leather on skin. I knew that sound only too well, and goose bumps instantly prickled all the way down my spine. I tightened my grip on the armrests and closed my eyes. Waiting. Waiting. Wanting. The third strike would be to his own palm again, that much I—
The tails thudded just below my right shoulder blade, catching me off guard. Before I’d completely recovered, he hit the same spot on my left side. I whimpered, and Matt whispered something that may have been, “oh my God.”
As he always did, Scott started out with gentle strokes to wake up the nerve endings and get my skin accustomed to the flogger. With time, though, he brought it down harder, until the thud resonated through my bones and drove moans of ecstasy from my lips. I was barely even aware of the burning fatigue in my shaking arms as I struggled to hold myself upright.
And all the while, Matt squirmed and fidgeted in front of me. Every time leather struck flesh, he jumped as if the tails had hit him. The more I whimpered and moaned, the deeper and more ragged his breaths became.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed.
A downward glance confirmed what I already knew: He was definitely hard, his thick erection straining the front of his jeans. My mouth watered. I wanted his cock. In my mouth, in my pussy, in my hands, I didn’t care. I needed him. Or Scott. One of them. Either of them. Both of them. Now.
The flogger hit my back one more time, then stopped. A second later, Scott grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. “Is this turning you on, Kristen?” he growled in my ear.
“Yes, Sir,” I said breathlessly.
“You want one of us to make you come, don’t you?”
“If that’s—” I paused, willing my tongue to form the words as I watched Matt squirm. Finally I closed my eyes. “If that’s what you want, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He released my hair. “Turn around.” I let go of the chair and stood upright, facing him but keeping my eyes down. “Get the condom out of my back pocket.”
I bit my lip. Behind me, Matt sucked in a breath. The chair creaked as he shifted his weight. He must have been going out of his mind, wondering what was going on, what would happen next, what—
Scott cleared his throat.
With a shaking hand, I reached behind him and slid my hand into his back pocket. Anticipation tingled at the base of my spine when the foil’s edge met my fingertips. I pulled it free and brought my hand back around between us.
I kept my eyes down as I held the condom out to Scott, but he put his hand up.
“It isn’t for me.”
My eyes flicked up, and he gestured past me with his chin. Gestured at Matt.
My heart pounded. With what, I wasn’t sure. Excitement? Nerves? The certainty that I was going to wake up from this dream at any moment?
Scott’s eyebrow rose. “Is there a problem?”
“No. No, not at all.”
I turned to Matt and took a deep breath. Then I went to him and grasped his hand.
“Stand up,” I said.
Hesitating, he licked his lips. He rose, pushing himself up with his free hand rather than pulling on mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed once.
He sucked in a sharp hiss of breath when I slid my hand over the front of his jeans. My mouth instantly watered; I’d had no doubt his cock was rock hard, but feeling was believing. Oh God, I wanted him.
When I started to draw his zipper down, he tensed.
“Are you okay with this?” I whispered.
“Oh, yeah.”
I unzipped his jeans. As I wrapped my fingers around his cock, we both gasped. He let his head fall back, exhaling through parted lips as I stroked him gently.
“Put the condom on,” Scott ordered.
I tore the wrapper. Matt bit his lip, and the furrow of his brow was visible even with the blindfold. We both took long, deep breaths while I rolled the condom into place.
The condom was on. My body screamed at me to drag him down to the floor or to the bed or anywhere and get him inside me as soon as possible, but I waited. Torture though it was, I waited. I had to.
Matt took short, shallow breaths. His unsteady hands opened and closed at his sides. Impatience was written all over the tension in his neck and the way his cheek rippled as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.
Finally, Scott made a move. He gathered my hair and swept it aside, and his voice thrummed against my neck as he said, “Once his blindfold is off, he can do whatever he wants to you.” Matt exhaled hard. Scott kissed my neck. “But what is the rule?”
Oh, you bastard. I gulped. You sadistic, teasing bastard.
“What is the rule, Kristen?” he growled.
“I’m not allowed to come.”
“Not until…?”
Another gulp. “Until you command or allow it.”
“Good girl.” One more kiss, this time just beneath my ear. Then he stepped back. “Take the blindfold off.”
I did, and as soon as it was gone, Matt grabbed the sides of my neck and kissed me. Breathlessly, desperately, the kind of passionate kiss that melted my spine and turned my knees to water.
Thankfully, I didn’t need to rely on those knees to hold me up any longer, because Matt shoved me up against the bed and bent me over it. My hands had barely hit the bedspread before he was inside me, gripping my hips and thrusting into me so hard it brought tears to my eyes. The bed squeaked and groaned beneath us as he slammed his cock deep inside me, and I fought to keep from coming.
Even over the bed’s protests, Matt’s breaths, and my moans, I heard the muffled creak of the chair. Blinking back tears, I glanced over my shoulder.
Scott had taken Matt’s place. He sat with one elbow on the armrest, his legs crossed at the knees, and a deliciously sexy grin on his face.
And he watched.
The voyeur became the exhibitionist. The exhibitionist, the voyeur.
And between the two of them, I was in nothing less than perfect, mind-blowing ecstasy. I closed my eyes and let my head fall forward, gripping the bedspread as Scott watched Matt fuck me.
Matt grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. He kissed the side of my neck, his stubble abrasive against my skin, and I moaned, my arms trembling beneath me.
“Don’t come yet, Kristen.” Scott’s calm, even voice only emphasized the sharp, desperate breaths Matt released against my neck. “You’re not to come until I give the word.”
Matt stopped abruptly. He pulled out and whispered, “Get on your back.” Though my skin was tender from the flogger, it wasn’t painfully raw. Even if it was, a little pain wasn’t going to deter me from letting Matt have me the way he wanted me.
I turned onto my back and wrapped my legs around his waist as he pulled his shirt off and threw it aside. Then he thrust into me, and I immediately saw stars; from this angle, he had more leverage, and he hit every perfect place inside me. Both my clit and G-spot must have been placed specifically for Matt Sommers to fuck me just. Like. This.
“Kristen.” Scott’s voice once again pulled me out of the delirium Matt’s cock sent me into.
I gripped Matt’s shoulders and closed my eyes as obedience and orgasm vied for control. Matt fucked me even harder. Whether he was deliberately trying to make obedience more difficult, or if he was simply losing control, I didn’t know, but every thrust drove me closer to that tempting precipice.
“Oh, fuck,” Matt moaned. “Jesus, baby, you feel incredible.”
I clawed at his back, trying to hold onto something, anything.
“You will not come yet.” Scott’s voice was flat and te
rse. The faint clink of his glass on the window sill made my heart beat faster. I swore he grew calmer and more controlled as Matt came apart in my arms. His cool intensified Matt’s desperation. The stillness of one emphasized the violent movement of the other, and they both conspired to drive me out of my mind.
I whimpered, my entire body trembling as Matt continued to fuck me.
“I haven’t given you permission yet,” Scott said. I moaned again, this time out of aggravation. Scott’s denial fueled my frustration. My frustration dug my nails into Matt’s back. My nails in his back made Matt fuck me faster and harder. His violent thrusts held me right on the brink of an earth shattering orgasm. An orgasm which Scott continued to deny me.
“Sir, please,” I begged, almost sobbing with arousal and frustration and insanity. “Please, let me come, please…”
“Yes.”
With that simple, calm affirmative, I was gone.
“Oh, fuck, oh my God…” Matt’s trembling whisper penetrated my white-hot oblivion. He slammed his cock into me, hard enough to drive out my breath had I been able to draw any to begin with, and groaned.
For a long, breathless moment, we just held each other, our bodies unmoving except for the uncontrollable quivering that shook us both from head to toe. His forehead rested against mine, the sweat on his brow cooling my feverish skin.
He exhaled. I exhaled. His shoulders relaxed. One by one, my fingers loosened their hold on him. We both shivered as he pulled out.
He kissed me again. “That was amazing,” he breathed. I must have said something, responded with a slurred murmur, because I was aware of my own voice vibrating in my throat, but God only knew what I actually said.
As Matt got up to get rid of the condom, I met Scott’s eyes. Matt and I were sweaty and disheveled, but he was still fully dressed, neither a drop of sweat nor a hair out of place. Still just as calm and composed as he’d been all evening.
He gestured at the floor and, with a voice that echoed that omnipresent control, said, “Get on your knees.”
I scrambled to my feet and dropped to my trembling knees in front of him. My mouth watered as he unbuckled his belt.
“You’ve done well tonight,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re not done yet, though.” The sound of his zipper almost drew a whimper out of me. “After all, Matt came to watch, didn’t he?”
“Yes, Sir.” I glanced at Matt, whose eyes widened. He wetted his lips, and without thinking, I did the same.
“Look at me, Kristen,” Scott said.
I looked up at him, resisting the urge to let my eyes dart toward his hand as he stroked his hard cock. He ran his free hand through my hair.
“Do you want to suck my cock, Kristen?” he asked, almost whispering. He nodded toward Matt, but didn’t break eye contact with me. “Do you want him to watch you suck my cock?”
A desperate plea of “yes, yes, please, let me, Sir” made it to the tip of my tongue, but I bit my lip. That was the wrong answer.
“If that’s what you want, Sir,” I whispered.
“Good girl.” He grinned. His fingers tightened in my hair. “And that is what I want.”
~ * ~
After Scott had gone, Matt and I sat on my sofa, his arm slung around my shoulders as we both returned to a world beyond blindfolds and floggers.
They’d taken turns all evening, switching back and forth between voyeur and exhibitionist. Both of them had more stamina than two men in their thirties had any right to have, and they’d capitalized on it. By the end of the night, Scott had come twice. Matt, three times. Me? Heaven knew.
“Krissy, you’ve just spent four years enduring a degree of sexual frustration that would have driven me batshit,” Scott had said once. “With all the sexual karma you’re cashing in right now, I say, the more the merrier.”
The more the merrier indeed.
Matt closed his eyes and let out a long breath, resting his head against the back of the couch.
I put my hand on his leg. “You okay?”
He smiled, but didn’t open his eyes. “Oh, I’m just fine.”
“We didn’t hurt you? Wear you out?”
“You wore me out all right.” He looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “But I’m not complaining at all.”
“Good.” I squeezed his leg. “I honestly had no idea he was going to blindfold you.”
“Well, that does kind of defeat the purpose of watching, so…” He shrugged, chuckling. “Actually I didn’t mind. It was kind of cool.”
“Really?”
He nodded, closing his eyes again. “When I’ve watched you from across the alley—” He paused, swallowing hard. His cheeks darkened as he cast me a cautious look. Then he closed his eyes and went on. “When I’ve watched you, the only part that sucks is that I can only see you. I can’t hear you, I can’t feel you. But this…” He went quiet for a moment.
“This…?”
He opened his eyes and sat up, putting his hand over mine as he faced me. “This time, it still would have been hot if I could have seen you, but since I couldn’t, it was like I had no choice but to focus on all the other little things.”
I wetted my lips. “Such as?”
“Such as, the sounds you make,” he said. “Especially when he was flogging you. I swear to God, you sounded just like you were on the verge of an orgasm. And…” He dropped his gaze, his cheeks coloring a little more. “Okay, this is going to sound really stupid.”
“Try me.”
He took a breath. “When he was making you undress, I could hear your clothes moving across your skin. I’ve never paid attention to that before, but it…” He watched his fingertips making light circles on the back of my hand for a moment. “It was like I couldn’t just hear it, I could feel it.”
I shivered, imagining his fingers following the feather light paths my clothes had made as they’d fallen away.
“So,” he said, “for the first threesome I’ve ever experienced? I’d give it a ten.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.” I smiled. “Think this will be your only threesome? Or just your first?”
“Oh, I think I could be talked into another one.” He reached for my face and tilted his head. His lips barely brushed mine as he said, “What about you?”
I put my arms around his neck. “I think I could be persuaded.”
“Hmm,” he whispered between gentle kisses, “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re bored with twosomes.”
“Not in the least.”
“Good.”
Chapter 25
Nerves coiled in my gut as I pulled into Scott’s driveway beside another car. Amy’s, I assumed. I took a deep breath. She was here. We were really doing this.
When Scott came to the door, he had Malia draped over his arm with one paw dangling and her tail curled around his elbow. He reminded me of some spy movie villain, plotting and scheming while he stroked the equally diabolical cat on his arm.
“Didn’t chicken out, I see?” he said with a grin.
“No, I did not.” I laughed. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “I assume Amy hasn’t either?”
“Nope. She’s here. And I’m glad you’re here, because I think this will be fun.” Turning so we didn’t squish the cat, he kissed me quickly. When he started to pull away, Malia reached up and grabbed my shirt, hooking her claws in so we couldn’t separate.
“Um, Scott, your cat is trying to feel me up.”
“What can I say?” he said as he pried her claws free. “She has good taste.”
“She obviously didn’t pick you, then.”
“Shut up.”
Once he’d persuaded Malia to unhand me, Scott led me into his living room where Ryan, Amy’s husband, sat on the sofa.
“Ryan, you remember Kristen, right?” Scott said. “She’ll be beating the hell out of your wife today.”
“Yeah, I remember her.” Ryan laughed as he got up to shake my hand. “You’re letting this
yoyo train you?”
“Well, I take everything he says with a grain of salt,” I said. “Always have.”
“Smart woman,” Ryan said with a nod.
“Okay, that’s enough out of both of you.” Scott rolled his eyes. To me, he said, “Amy just went into the spare bedroom to change clothes. She’ll be out momentarily.”
As if on cue, Amy stepped into the room, and both men’s eyes lit up. She wore a simple T-shirt and track pants, obviously going for comfort and practicality. I could only imagine the things she wore on other occasions; her lithe body was made for the leather ensembles I’d seen at the club.
Her long blonde hair was gathered into a ponytail and slung over one shoulder. Out of the way and exposing her back, I realized with a a half-excited, half-nervous flutter in my stomach.
“Ready?” Scott asked.
She smiled, first at me, then at him. “Always.”
“So when should I be back?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe an hour?” Scott said. “We might not be done yet, but I’d rather have you here earlier than not.”
“Noted.” Ryan kissed Amy’s forehead. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Have fun.”
She smiled. “I will.” They exchanged a brief look and a tender kiss, then Ryan made his exit. Once he was gone, we headed down the hall toward the dungeon.
I looked at Amy. “You really don’t mind doing this?”
“Not at all.”
“Even though I’ve never picked up a flogger in my life?”
She grinned and shrugged. “Practice makes perfect.”
“And I can think of few women more willing to be used for target practice,” Scott said, holding the dungeon door open for us. Amy and I went in first. Scott backed in, leaning down and trying to keep the cat out on his way in.
“Out, out, out,” he said, nudging her back as she tried to push past him. She hissed, and he muttered, “Hey, don’t backtalk me, Princess.” Finally he got the door shut, and the cat expressed her irritation by way of a paw swiping at his feet.
“Poor Scott.” Amy sighed and shook her head. “That little kitty is never going to listen to you, is she?”
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