“No.” She exhaled, raising her head with a beaming smile. “I’ve got all I need, thank you.”
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.
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.