‘I think I know but I daresay you’ve got some weird idea of your own.’ Jenna tried to push him off but he was impossible to dislodge.
‘Needs christening,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t it?’
‘Go and cook something then,’ she said, pushing her knee into his thigh. It was solid as rock.
‘You want me to heat something up, love? That can be done.’
He moved one of her wrists carefully beside the other so he could hold both in the pinion of one hand then, with his other, reached over to fumble in the nearest shopping bag.
‘Oh, strawberries,’ he guessed, fingering a package. ‘Yeah?’
‘Well, it is nearly time for Wimbledon.’
‘Seasonal. Did you get cream?’
He drew out the punnet of strawberries and broke the seal with his teeth.
‘What the hell ar
e you doing?’
‘You wanted me to sort out some dinner,’ he defended himself, putting the strawberries down beside him. ‘And I’m thinking of killing two birds with one stone. Well, not killing. Unless the massive orgasms I give you turn out to be fatal.’
‘Jason. I can’t. I’m so sore all over …’
‘So am I. I’m not going to fuck you. But a man needs to eat.’
He reached back into the bag and identified a carton of double cream.
‘Now are you going to lie there nice and quiet while I get this tea ready?’ he asked.
‘The duvet …’
‘Got a nice new washer, haven’t you? The duvet can be its first load. Are you going to, Jen? Or do I have to tie you up?’
She felt a twinge of delight at the thought and almost said ‘no’ to test this resolve, but there was time enough, in more comfortable circumstances, to take her first steps towards bondage, so she nodded acquiescence.
‘Good girl.’ He released her wrists and unsealed the lid of the cream.
He unbuttoned her shirt dress with sure fingers, then reached underneath to unclip and remove her bra. Her knickers soon disappeared too, leaving only her sandals, but he left them on. He slipped a hand between her thighs, easing them apart, then he took the carton, held it high over her ribs and began to pour.
It was cold and she gasped as the thick white liquid splashed on and between her breasts. Jason poured a trail down her belly, then angled her hips up so he could deposit the rest of the cream in and around her lower lips, coating them thickly. The chill of it felt deliciously soothing to the mild burn that had affected that area all day and Jenna lay back and let it all happen, caught in the luxuriant lasciviousness of it all.
‘You’re making me hungry,’ he said.
She felt the drips running down the curve of her bottom, pooling in all her creases and cracks.
Her nipples stood up, emerging from the cream-slick like pink lifebuoys.
‘When I look at you like that,’ he said, breathing heavily, ‘I’m imagining that cream didn’t come from a carton. You look too fucking hot to take.’
He sat back, panting and looking her up and down with a starved eye.
She really thought he might bend down and bite a chunk out of her.
Instead, he grabbed at the strawberries, took a handful and scattered them across her torso. He picked the tops off two and mashed them down on her nipples until they stuck there, like mad, scarlet caricatures of what they covered. The rest were pushed between her lower lips, into a jumble that might eventually become a purée. How soft and firm and cold they felt, added to the thick cream and her own streaming juices. Jason kept the heel of his hand at her pussy, holding the fruit in position, while he lowered himself over her and began to lick and lap at her belly and breasts.
His heat coupled with the cold collation brought the pitch of sensuality high. She twisted and gasped and tried to push her pussy, full of strawberries, further into him, to crush them and turn everything to pink mush.