Blissful Masquerade (Ruthless Desires #1)

Besides, I’m the reason Rhett and Oliver came home alone tonight.

No, I think to myself. If you’re going to do this, it can’t be out of a feeling of obligation. You won’t be able to stay in the moment.

“Wren.” Elliot squeezes my hands, and I expect him to press me for an answer. But instead, he says, “If it makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable, I want you to say no. Need you to say no.”

I hesitate, thinking this through. Was this their plan all night? Flirt with me, have one of them bring me home, and then the other two get to watch? The thought feels dirty.

But as I look at Elliot, at the relaxed sincerity on his face, I know that can’t be true. I have a feeling Oliver and Rhett knocked on the door with absolutely no expectations at all.

“Are we scaring you?” His voice is gentle.

I shake my head, smiling down at him. “Just needed to think. They can watch.”

Elliot narrows his eyes at me, probably looking for a tiny bit of hesitation. But he must be satisfied with what he finds, because he gets up to open the door.

Before he takes more than two steps, though, I stop him. “I have one condition, though.”

He turns, waiting.

My cheeks heat at the next words out of my mouth. “I want to go down on you.”

He laughs. “Deal.”

He opens the door, and Oliver and Rhett file in. They’ve taken off their masks, but they’re still in their suits. The only indication that either of them has relaxed at all is Oliver’s loosened tie.

“Damn, Elliot.” Oliver gives me a once-over, winking at me. Rhett’s eyes linger on me as well, but he stays silent as he settles into a chair in the corner of the room.

For a moment, I’m confused by Oliver’s reaction. But then I realize I’m still panting. I probably look as dazed as I feel, too.

With a shy smile, I slip off the bed and settle onto my knees. Elliot walks over, cupping my chin, and I look up at him. The fire in his eyes matches the hunger I feel coursing through my whole body.

I undo his belt, sliding it off and placing it on the floor. Slowly, I unbutton and unzip his pants, keeping my eyes on him the whole time. I stroke him through his boxers before slipping my hand beneath his waistband and pulling him out.

He’s larger than Adam, and I eye him nervously. Am I going to be able to fit him in my mouth? For a moment, I hesitate, but then I realize that I actually want to choke on his cock.

Heat curls in my lower belly as I lick him from base to tip. He groans, pulling the stray strands of my hair back and holding them. I take his tip into my mouth, wrapping my right hand around him and stroking.

With every bob of my head, I manage to take more of him in. His fist tightens around the hair at the base of my neck, and I moan. When he hits the back of my throat, I gag but don’t pull back, letting myself adjust to him.

“I’m going to take control now, Wren. Are you ready?”

My eyes go wide.

“You can take it, love. You’re already doing so well.”

I moan in response, relaxing and moving both of my hands to his thighs for balance.

“That’s it,” he whispers, pulling out a few inches. “Ready?”

I give him a small nod, my gaze flitting up to his face for a moment. His eyes are half-closed, foggy with pleasure. When he slides back into me, they close all the way.

He starts off at a slow pace, most likely for my benefit, before he speeds up. It doesn’t take long for my jaw to ache and tears to fall from my eyes, but I don’t care. There’s something about the way he’s holding my head and fucking my mouth that makes me never want him to stop.

“Fuck,” I hear Oliver mutter. His voice is strained.

The reminder that he and Rhett are watching sends a wave of butterflies to my stomach. It must have a similar effect on Elliot, because he groans.

His thrusts slow, and I expect to feel him come, but instead he pulls out of my mouth. I moan in disappointment, opening my mouth and trying to lean forward, but he keeps his grip on my hair firm.

“Stand up.”

I scramble to my feet, losing my breath when he kisses me. His hands brush away my tears, and I can’t help but wonder if I have mascara running down my cheeks.

Elliot turns me around, pressing my back to his front. I can feel his erection, and I grind my ass against him. I don’t think I’ve ever cared so much about seeing—and hearing—a man come undone. Yet I’m ready to do anything to experience Elliot coming. In me, on me, I don’t even care.

But he has other plans.

“Spread your legs.”

I do.

“Now let them watch you come apart from a single one of my fingers.”

For the first time since Elliot turned me around, I actually look. And what I find are two men staring at me with pure, unadulterated lust. The thought of getting on my knees for both of them crosses my mind just as Elliot slides a finger over my clit, and I shudder.

When Elliot slid my dress off in the limo, there was a split second when I felt too vulnerable. But now, with Elliot holding me on display for Rhett and Oliver, the feeling of being exposed to them only makes me more wet.

Elliot makes a deep, dark sound as he feels it. My head falls back onto his shoulder as he works my overly sensitive clit back to life. It doesn’t take long before I’m a mess, sputtering half-sentences and tugging my hair with my hands. I don’t know what to do with them, and I can’t figure out where to put them that doesn’t make me feel self-conscious.

I squeeze my eyes closed when Elliot slows his finger. An orgasm was just beginning to build, but now it’s fading away. I bite one of my fingers, stifling a frustrated groan.

But then two hands wrap around my wrists, pressing them to soft fabric. I open my eyes to see them against Rhett’s chest. He’s watching me closely, searching for any type of resistance. But the way he’s entrapped my wrists against his chest feels so right.

My gaze locks with his, and his piercing stare goes straight to my heart. He’s looking at me like a starved man staring at a feast. “Rhett,” I whisper, watching as he raises an eyebrow. “Rhett, kiss me. Please.”

The words flow out of my mouth so naturally that what I’m really opening myself up to doesn’t register until I’ve already said them. But I don’t care. I need to feel this man’s lips on me.

Rhett doesn’t hesitate. His grip on my wrists tightens, and then he pulls them over my head and holds them there. When his lips finally crash into mine, Elliot’s finger speeds up again. I cry out, Rhett absorbing the sound in his mouth.

His free hand creeps up my body, sliding in between my breasts and tracing my collarbones. Then it wraps around my throat, his thumb and forefinger squeezing ever so slightly.

All of a sudden, everything is too much, and I explode. My knees go weak, but I find myself held up by Rhett’s grip on my wrists and Elliot’s arm wrapping around my waist.

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