Page 110 of Beautiful Sinners

“I can’t see.”

“That’s the point. With your eyesight occluded, your other senses will heighten,” he explains, intertwining the fabric until it’s secure at the back of my head.

I moan when firm lips settle over mine, the kiss pillow-soft. Constantine. I can tell by the shape of his mouth and by the way he kisses me like I’m precious.

I can hear them moving about the bedroom and want to know what they’re doing, but I don’t dare remove the blindfold.

I startle when someone grabs my left wrist.

“I’m going to bind your wrist and secure the rope to the metal ring.”

Hendrix.

My pulse picks up speed. “Okay.”

A strange current of desire courses through me as he wraps the binding around my wrist. There’s something inherently erotic about giving them control over my body. I trust them. I know I’m safe with them. That knowledge is what helps me feel secure in pushing my boundaries and exploring the darker side of sex and intimacy.

There’s a tug, and my left arm lifts to shoulder height. Hendrix talks me through what he’s doing as he knots the binding on the metal ring, then repeats the same procedure with my right arm.

When he’s done, he inquires, “Too tight?”

I test the ropes by twisting and pulling at them. There’s enough give, so they don’t cut off my circulation.

“They’re good.”

Hendrix feathers a kiss across my mouth. “All you need to do is feel.”

My eyelids flutter close behind the blindfold when hands begin to touch me everywhere. A gentle trailing of airy circles over my clavicle, a graceful finger between my breasts, the backs of knuckles drifting over the scars on my arm, a hand flattened over my abdomen. My breaths grow labored and echo around the room as every caress tightens the coil of desire. When their touch disappears, the absence of their hands leaves an emptiness that just adds fuel to the inferno burning inside me.

“Please,” I plead.

There’s a rustle of fabric as clothes are shed, and I squirm against the restraints.

“You’re dripping, baby,” Tristan says, gliding his finger up the inside of my thigh.

Someone’s hard cock prods my backside. I feel the cold metal of the piercing and know it’s Constantine. Using gentle pressure on my back, he guides me down until my chest is parallel to the bed. With my arms bound and splayed to either side of me, I’m suspended in a half-plank position on my knees. The ropes cut into my wrists as they take most of my weight, but I don’t complain. I know the pleasure they’ll give me will be worth a little discomfort.

“Open,” Hendrix says.

My lips obediently part. He uses the head of his cock to smear precum over my mouth, then roughly shoves his length to the back of my throat until I gag.

A hiss of pleasure rumbles out. “You feel so good.”

His hand clasps the back of my neck, arching my head as far back as possible while he rocks into me. The sensations sharpen almost painfully as he moves against my throat, each snap of his hips becoming more punishing. He uses me for his own pleasure, and I finally understand the meaning behind fucktoy.

Kisses rain down my spine, and my moan vibrates around Hendrix’s cock when Constantine lines himself up and pushes in. My excitement emboldens me, and I moan louder for them to take me harder. Every searing thrust of their cocks elicits hedonistic cries from deep within me. The magnitude of pleasure and pain is like lightning under my skin, the intensity unbearable. I’m hovering on the edge of insanity, desperately needing to come but never wanting this to end. I’m tied up, blindfolded, and being fucked my two men. It’s depraved and filthy, and I love every second.

Constantine slides his hand under me and between my legs, strumming my clitoris like I’m an instrument he’s skilled at playing. He whispers things in Portuguese I don’t understand, but I can feel their meaning, and it’s his words that fling me over into bliss as my orgasm splinters me apart.

Hendrix’s movements grow more and more erratic, and I’m given no time to catch my breath. His groan of release is the only warning I get before he unloads hot pulses of cum down my throat.

“Oh, fuck. Your mouth, perfection. Take all of me. Swallow every fucking drop.”

I try to, but it’s a lot, and I wind up choking on most of it.

Constantine holds still to allow Hendrix to pull out, and I gulp in much-needed oxygen as soon as he slips free. There’s a tug on the sash, and the blindfold falls away. Even with the room mostly dark, it takes a second to acclimate.

Hendrix’s blue eyes come into focus, and he smiles as he wipes himself from my mouth.

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