Page 7 of Reckless Hearts

I’m too focused on Wes that I fail to notice the hands threading through my hair, gripping the base of my scalp, and guiding it onto Wes’s wet dick.

I freeze, my mouth still full as their presence sends chills across my spine. I’m too afraid to look, yet too proud and inquisitive not to.

“Keep going, baby. Keep sucking,” Wes affirms, his voice strained. “He won’t touch unless you ask. Call red if you need to.”

Though I have a pretty good idea who's standing behind me, I trust Wes's judgement. Still, I’m wary. Despite my desire to be shared, I dial back my enthusiasm on his dick. What was meant to be exceptional head is slowly becoming mediocre at best.

Wes shifts backward, sliding up the bed to meet the headboard, and I scramble up to join him, my mouth aching with emptiness as I position myself between his legs, eagerly taking his cock between my lips.

The mattress sinks behind me, signalling the stranger’s presence. Slow, measured breathing fills the air, and a mysterious, heavy scent—a blend of something dark and sweet—makes me tingle with anticipation. Despite the fear heightening my arousal, I'm too scared to turn around.

I clench my thighs, imagining his gaze tracking over my body, drinking in every inch of my skin, lingering on my glistening pussy. I’m aware that I’m fully bare, folded like a lawn chair with Wes’s dick in my mouth, my pussy and ass on full display, aching with need. It’s almost pathetic that with one passing thought I’ve switched from being scared to being so turned on that I’m completely open to this stranger doing whatever the heck he wants to me.

As my mind runs away with me, my tongue elicits another needy groan from Wes’s beautiful mouth. My mind conjures an image of him, his sharp jaw clenching, then softening to form a perfectO,a hint of mint and smoke on his breath.

Desperate for stimulation, I push my hips back, grinding them against thin air as I moan around Wes’s cock.

“Fuck.” The word gusts from his mouth as he lifts his hips, fucking my mouth mercilessly, every thrust stealing my breath as I claw my way underneath Wes’s hoodie, digging my fingernails into his skin. His thrusts become shallow, legs shaking as he drives into my mouth. The stranger behind me fists my hair, holding my head still as I await my reward.

Hot, thick spurts of cum shoot across my tongue as Wes’s warm pleasure floods my senses, driving me wild. I hold him in my mouth, savouring every pulse as he begins to slow, before swallowing every last drop of his seed.

Wes falls back onto the bed. The stranger’s touch softens, their gentle strokes caressing my hair before retreating. My first instinct is to escape, but I’ve come too far to quit now. I need to see how Wes’s master plan unfolds, but he’s too busy basking in the afterglow to care.

Rude.

I close my eyes and take a cleansing breath, gathering my composure. With a steady resolve, I turn around to confront a mirror image of the man I've just given my mouth to, complete with mask, black jeans, boots, and gloves—only this one is shirtless.

And he’s beautiful.

Colourful tattoos span the entirety of his body, from his well-defined torso to his lean, muscular arms. Thick veins thread the ink, the colours melding together as they creep up and disappear into the black fabric of the mask covering his face. He's slightly shorter than Wes, yet he still towers me. And if the tent in hisjeans is any indication, it’s that his slim frame doesn’t match up to the monster in them.

The entire time he’s been here, he hasn’t said a word. I don’t even know what he looks like, yet I’m so freaking horny at the prospect of two of them succumbing to my every desire that all I can think about is what his dick tastes like.

I look up, my eyes meeting those black holes that I’ve become accustomed to, wishing I had X-ray vision to watch his expression as my fingertips glide across my tight nipples.

“Are you going to tell me who you are before I suck your cock?” I say, feigning innocence.

But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me, feeding my unease.

“Trick won’t answer. He's non-verbal,” Wes chimes from behind.

A man who doesn’t speak? Sounds promising.

“Okay, so how does this work?” I ask, staring at the mask as if willing him to respond. “How are we supposed to communicate?”

“He knows your safeword,” Wes says. “He knows everything I know about you.” He pauses. “You can bow out anytime. Whatever you need.”

It feels intrusive and unfair that this stranger knows my deepest, darkest desires, yet I can’t stop staring at the tent in his jeans like it’s a wild animal in captivity. And all I want is to set it free.

“No. I don’t need my safeword,” I say, climbing to the edge of the bed to kneel in front of him while he stands there waiting to get his dick wet. “I want to play.” I palm his arousal and glance up at him through my lashes. “Use me,Trick.”

I take his silence as acquiescence and unzip him, his chest expanding, rising, and falling as I tug down his jeans, then hisbriefs, his cock springing free mere inches from my mouth. Such a pretty beast.

More colorful ink covers his muscular thighs, descending past his knees and shins; he’s a fucking work of art. I dip my head and lick the teardrop muscle above his knee. He shudders, his dick twitching in response. I drag my fingernails across the intricate ink, then wrap my hand around his length.

“Give him your mouth, Tatum. Make him feel good,” Wes says, palming my hair.

I stick out my tongue, on my knees like I’m waiting to receive holy communion, closing the distance between my mouth and Trick’s cock, and lick the bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit.

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