Page 17 of Blissful Masquerade

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Page 17 of Blissful Masquerade

He moves to pull out of me, but I grab his hips to hold him in place. I want—need—to feel him come in my mouth.

With a grunt, he does, and I feel every hot spurt on my tongue. He pulls out, twisting to fall on his ass as he watches me. I open my mouth, propping myself up on my elbows and letting some of his cum drip out of my mouth. Then I swallow, licking it off my lips.

“Fuck,” he says on an exhale. “That was hot.”

I crawl over to him, and he pulls me onto his lap with a small kiss. His calloused hand runs up and down my back, and I settle against him with a small sigh.

For a few moments, we stay just like that, and I can’t help but smile at how relaxed Rhett is. I have no idea what was bugging him earlier, but it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

The mattress sags. I glance over to see Elliot sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s pulled his cock back out, and he’s stroking himself with slow, steady movements.

While still clinging to Rhett, I lean over and kiss him. It pulls a moan out of Oliver, and I giggle.

Elliot takes my face in his hands, kissing the tip of my nose. “How are you feeling, love?”

I give him a quick kiss before he straightens. “Like I can handle you.” I know I’ll probably be sore in the morning, but the thought of not being with Elliot like I’ve been with the other two tonight doesn’t sit right with me.

He lets out a soft chuckle, running a hand through my hair. “Do you trust us, Wren?”

I let myself mull over the question. No man has ever taken his time with me like these three have. They’ve always gone straight for what they want. But not Elliot, Oliver, and Rhett.

Is that a good enough reason to trust them? Probably not. But they’ve been so caring, and patient, and sincere all night. Including before we left the ball.

Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe it’s a foolish thing to do. But as I glance between the three of them, it hits me: I really, truly do trust them.

CHAPTER FOUR

ELLIOT

I WATCH as Wren thinks over my question, biting her lip in a way that somehow makes my dick even harder.

Good, I think as she glances between the three of us. I want her to take this question seriously.

With a small smile, Wren looks up at me and nods.

I smile back. “And how much experimenting have you done in the bedroom, love?”

Her smile falls, and she looks away. “Not that much. I wanted to, but...” She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter right now.”

I watch her closely, looking for any sign that we’re making her uncomfortable. Tension in her shoulders, too-wide eyes, closed off posture. But I find nothing except a hint of sadness that I know has nothing to do with us and everything to do with that motherfucker who broke her heart.

“I’m going to tell you a few things I’ve observed tonight. Tell me if I’m right or wrong, okay?”

She nods again.

My fingers brush across her cheek, because I can’t help but touch her. She’s like a fucking drug. “You seemed to like it whenever Rhett restrained you. Specifically, when he raised your arms above your head, and when he pinned you down when Oliver was fucking you. Am I correct?”

She gives Oliver a heated glance, and he returns it. Then, with a blush, she says, “Yes.”

“Pretty sure you liked it when I choked you, too.” Rhett nudges her jaw with his nose, and I smile at the show of affection. He’s done well tonight.

Wren’s eyes widen, and a shy smile appears on her face. “Yeah.” Then she turns to face me, an expression of cautious curiosity on her face. “What do you want to do to me?”

I smirk. “Tie you up.”

Her lips part as the words register in her brain.

“You’d be able to tell me to stop at any time. And I won’t tie you up for very long. Not this time, at least.” I watch as heat ignites in her eyes at the thought of doing this again. “But I only want you to agree to this if you’re one-hundred percent on board.”




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