Brock withdrew his hand from her slick heat and settled it on her inner thigh. “We had looked into Silverholt as a possible PR agency when we moved to Baltimore, but chose to go with Oldbank instead.”
Her cheeks were still flushed, yet the hazy arousal in her eyes had faded. “I know. I remember when HighDot merged with MDR Software, and we heard we lost the account.” She smiled, giving them a nonchalant wave. “Business is business.”
Brock studied her, now realizing Kyra had pain in her past too. “We chose Oldbank merely because your father had passed away around the time we moved to Baltimore. We thought the company might be in for big changes and would be unstable because of that.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s business, not personal. I never mix the two. And you’re right—big changes did take place after his death.”
Smith’s head tilted, his eyebrows drawn together. “If your father owned Silverholt, why don’t you run the company?”
She slid her fingers around the rim of her glass. “Because I don’t want to. Never did.” She gave a halfhearted shrug. “I love my job and didn’t want to move up the corporate ladder, so to speak.”
Smith exchanged a long look with Brock. Now, it made sense why Kyra wasn't impressed by their wealth. She was wealthy herself. In fact, Brock suspected incredibly wealthy. Most people who came from old money didn’t flaunt it, and Kyra didn’t exude the air of a rich woman.
He liked that about her.
More so, something else impressed him. Kyra clearly knew what she wanted in her life, and she went for it. That made Brock relate to her. “You stayed in your position at Silverholt because you love your job?”
She gave him quite the cute look and even sweeter smile. “I went to university for my job, of course I love it. My father knew I didn’t want to run the company. After he was diagnosed with lung cancer, he arranged it all so I didn’t have to deal with the company’s ins and outs when he died.”
Smith regarded her while he rubbed his jaw. “You seem pretty adamant that you wouldn’t ever change your mind about taking over at Silverholt. You’re young, Kyra, how do you know you won’t want that position in the future?”
She gave them both a hard look. “Important jobs, like your jobs, mean long working hours. I’ve seen it with my father. He worked day and night, and it destroyed his marriage to my mother.
That
life never interested me.”
Brock wanted to disagree with her, because deep down he thought if he loved a woman enough, he could make time for her. But he also saw truth in what she said. If a woman didn't understand what running a business entailed, no relationship could last.
In fact, it’s why they’d joined the Castle Dolce Vita, and why Smith had been riding his ass to hire new employees. They didn’t have the time to locate women for casual encounters. The castle gave them access to what they needed and desired, and in the short free time they had daily.
Glancing away from Kyra to Smith, Brock noticed Smith’s clenched jaw. Brock understood—the conversation had once again turned serious. As he’d done before, he set to lightening the mood by sliding his fingers to the junction between her thighs.
The moment he reached wet, hot flesh, Kyra gasped. Brock gathered her wetness up to her clit, where he rubbed the bud beneath his fingertips. He stared at Kyra, who now gripped the table as she looked out at the busy restaurant. Each time he slid his fingers lower, he noticed her more wet than the time before.
Kitten liked being naughty.
Hell, he loved it too.
Smith leaned back in his chair and sipped at his wine, watching her. That curve of his mouth he always had when he enjoyed something erotic appeared on his face. Brock couldn’t restrain his half grin too. Beneath his hand, he sensed Kyra’s rising climax in the tremble of her thigh.
He moved faster and rubbed harder against the swollen bud, taking a quick look at the others sitting at their tables in the restaurant. No one paid any attention to them, nor did they notice that right at this moment Kyra erupted into orgasm, causing her to bang her knee on the table, rattling the glasses on top.
Not even the waiter had any clue when he appeared at the table with a tray in hand, all because Kyra had stayed perfectly silent. Brock had done his best to move only his hand, not his arm. No one but the three of them knew what had taken place.
Their dirty little secret.
Brock wanted more.
The waiter placed their orders of Brock’s steak dinner, Smith’s chicken and rice, and Kyra’s pasta on the table. The server turned to Kyra. “Do you need anything else, miss?”
“No.” She exhaled, raising her head with a beaming smile. “I’ve got all I need, thank you.”
Chapter Six
The two-story Tuscan-style mansion with its rustic features was a no-brainer when Smith saw it as a possible home to purchase. From the stenciled ceiling beams to the large chandelier over the foyer to the lanterns hanging down the hallway, it all made this house feel like home.
After he unlocked the thick hardwood front door, he waved Kyra in as Brock stayed out on the porch with him. Inviting her into the house was unusual. Their sexual encounters happened either at work, a hotel, or at Castle Dolce Vita, never at their home.
Maybe because of the hardships Brock and Smith had suffered as children, the personal space and the thoughts of home were something they protected. But Kyra had been the first woman invited into their house.
Smith wouldn’t pretend that didn’t mean something. It had been unspoken between him and Brock, just a simple nod, that had Smith asking Kyra to come back with them tonight. He wanted to know more about her, he wanted to enjoy her. More than anything, he wanted Kyra to know them.
He watched her as she stepped into the foyer with its large wooden staircase in front of her. She scanned the high ceilings, hardwood floors, and arched doorways before she smiled back at them. “Your home is beautiful. It reminds me of Italy.”
Smith followed Brock into the house, shut the door behind him. “In Italy, Brock and I vacationed at a home that looked similar. It’s one of the reasons we purchased the house.”
She looked at them, surprise widening her eyes. “Oh, you both live here, like roommates?”
Smith chuckled, understanding why she found that fact so interesting. It was odd for two grown men who were in their early thirties and were as wealthy as they were to live in the same house. “We’re used to sticking together. Why change something that works?”
Brock kicked off his shoes, shrugging at her. “Exactly, and it's comfortable.” He gave Kyra a once-over, then grinned. “Sadly, I need to go and make a business call.” He turned and headed through the curved doorway toward his office.
Kyra followed Brock with her gaze, but Smith knew well enough how to command her attention. He leaned against the door, folded his arms. “Take off your clothes.”
She jerked her head to him, her eyes huge. “Pardon me?”
He never stepped toward her, or made any move, and simply repeated, “Take off your clothes. Leave the heels on.”
Kyra stared at him, possibly wondering if he was serious, which he damn well was. He’d been undeniably hot and hard when Brock got her off at the dinner table. Now he wanted her with a burn he wouldn’t dare attempt to control.
Whatever she saw in his expression must’ve indicated he was dead serious, since she reached for her black silk blouse. He loved that even if something made her nervous, she still acted on it. That he understood completely. He was the same way and had always been—it’s what made his business thrive. She slowly unbuttoned, and Smith watched her every move as she exposed her lace cami.
Her shirt finally fell off her shoulders, and she dropped it to the floor, as well as her cami. Then she reached for her skirt, and soon it pooled at her feet. She hesitated, her cheeks a beautiful rosy color as she studied Smith.
He waited, silent, and stared into her beautiful eyes. She reached back and unclipped her bra, letting the straps fall gingerly down her arms. Hooking her fingers into the edge of her panties, she pushed them down over her hips.
Smith pulled his tie loose. He yanked it over his head, kept it in his hand, and removed his shirt. Kyra, after depositing her panties on the floor, stood stark naked in the foyer in only her high-heeled shoes.
Ravishing.
The spotlights above beamed down on her rosy nipples, which stood out against her creamy flesh. Smith had the urge to trace all those beautiful curves of her body with his tongue. He wanted to discover every single inch of Kyra. Too bad his rock-hard cock had other ideas.
Once he dropped his dress shirt onto the table, he approached. “I know you’ve stated your dislike of BDSM, but this isn’t about the lifestyle. This is about having fun, not a power exchange and pushing limits.” He held up the tie. “I want to blindfold you, will you let me?”
She looked at the tie, and then her heated stare lifted. “Yes.”
He smiled, enjoying that she liked to do wicked things, because he certainly loved it. Though he suspected the role of submissive upset Kyra, he assumed she wouldn’t mind the blindfold. She had signed up to join a sex club, meaning she leaned toward the naughtier side of sex.
After he slid the tie over her face, he settled it into place over her eyes, then tied it around her head. He ensured her vision was blocked before he tugged her toward the staircase. Once there, he raised her hands and placed them up against it. “Hold on to the bars. Don’t let go.”
She complied, wrapping her fingers around them. He stepped back to admire the view, and he liked how she looked waiting there, unable to see anything around her. He also loved her in only her black heels.
Her beauty astounded him. Her caring soul he’d seen at dinner tonight captivated him. Her drive and love of her job impressed him. Sliding his fingers down her side in a slow sweep, he murmured, “Spread your legs, nice and wide.” She moved her feet outward. “You look stunning, Kyra.” He continued to stroke her warm flesh, feeling her twitching and moving her body with the path of his finger. “So, so beautiful.”
She shivered, giving him a nice moan as he trailed his hand down her stomach to the junction between her thighs. He groaned. “Soaking wet already?” He rubbed her clit, and she gave him another moan. “Seems you like my tie.”
He suspected the whole event turned her on, from Brock’s attention at the dinner table, to Smith’s order to strip, and even the blindfold. Perhaps she’d never had kinky sex before, and maybe she’d fantasized about it for a long time. Or maybe it was him touching her. Whatever the reasons she became so aroused, he approved, because it aroused him too.
Watching her strip and be so bold, and her allowing him to blindfold her, was all-powerful fuel to erotic pleasures. Smith pressed against her bare bottom and tangled his fingers into her hair, then pulled her head back. “I’m going to take you hard.”
“Yes,” she rasped, angling her head farther to whisper, “Take me.”
Smith didn’t need her to say another word. He wanted to be deep inside her. His cock throbbed in his pants and was uncomfortably hard. He reached for his wallet in his pocket, grabbed a condom, then rid himself of the rest of his clothing within one breath.
Using his teeth, he ripped the foil open, and in quick time, he sheathed his cock. With her legs still spread wide, he stepped behind her. He rested his cock against her slit right before he thrust forward.
Kyra arched her back, screaming a sound rich with pleasure. Smith wanted to hear more. He gripped her hips, and, with no sense of care for his own muscles, pounded against her. His pelvis smacked her sexy ass, and his groans mirrored Kyra’s screams of ecstasy when only minutes later, her pussy clamped against him.
Knowing that Brock had already made her come once tonight at the restaurant, he could only even the score tonight with their ongoing bet. He hadn't forgotten the bet hadn't been settled, but tonight it would remain that way. He needed to make her come twice. The first, he’d let her build on her own. The second, he’d force right out of her.
With the full intent of making her see stars, he slammed against her with hard lunges. His sac caressed her clit with every thrust forward, and he angled his cock at just the right spot to call to her climax.
His tie wrapped around her head was a damn spectacular sight, and it fueled his power. Right now, she could only feel, and only be in the moment. There was no visual to distract her. And that’s why it didn’t surprise him she came with only a few more strokes.
Her tight heat convulsed around him with such hard contractions that he had to grit his teeth to offset his pleasure. The scent of her arousal rushed through his nostrils, causing him to breathe even heavier through his mouth to fight off his rising climax. The sound of her screams echoing in the large foyer made him proud. And the act of his cock being drenched in her increasing moisture tensed his muscles.
When her shouts of satisfaction turned into quiet whimpers, her pussy massaged his cock through her climax, and he slowed his thrusts. Sweat dripped off his nose and onto her back as she trembled beneath him. He waited her out, gave her the time to relish her blissful state, and continued to bite his lip to focus away from his hunger.
Only a few seconds passed before she wiggled her hips and pushed against him, offering more. He ran his hand up her spine, then over her ribs and reached for her breast. He played with her nipples, tweaked them until they tightened into firmer buds.
The feel of her breast heavy in his hand, and the way it seemed undeniably right to touch her, even how she squirmed into him, and how beautiful she looked, once again made his cock ache to blow. Her pussy seemed permanently clamped on his cock. Each thrust seemed more forced than the last.
Pulling out of her, even if he cursed doing it, he positioned himself next to her. He ran his hand down her ass until he reached her slit. The tightness of her pussy when he inserted a finger indicated she was ripe and ready for another orgasm, just sitting there and waiting for him to gift it.
He slid another finger inside her hot wetness and angled both against her G-spot. Her inner muscles squeezed at his fingers, and she gave a low moan as he rubbed against the sensitive area.