Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club, #3)

by Nikki Sloane

The leather strap was swinging with his thrusts, so I pushed it over my shoulder, wanting it out of the way. He groaned and my muscles clenched. The belt around my throat began to tighten. What? My eyes fluttered open and went wide, realizing . . . oh God, when I’d put the belt over my neck, did he think—? Yes, he did. The leather constricted and dug into my skin. It was uncomfortable, and the pressure on my windpipe made it even harder to breathe, and yet, it was unbelievable how badly I wanted him to go tighter. I stared at him through the mirror, my face full of need, and he watched me right back, his expression intent. Focused. His deep eyes seemed to study every attempt I made for air. “If you want to stop,” he ordered, “open your hands.” The belt tightened, the buckle biting into the side of my throat. I couldn’t breathe at all, and my mind began to turn, inching toward panic. My vision narrowed to a tunnel and blurred until we were nothing but blurry, faceless shapes. There was no way I could speak or tell him to stop, so I slapped an open hand against the mirror. I was going to pass out, any second now— “Fuck, fuck . . . oh fuck!” I screamed as the belt released its choke. Only I wasn’t screaming in pain or anger. I was coming. I shattered with ecstasy so powerful it made my legs buckle and my eyes slam shut. Behind my eyelids, stars exploded and everything went tingly numb. The numb alternated to heat as if standing in a blast furnace, then back to arctic cold, wi...