‘What?’
‘That nice new bed of ours.’
He bent and kissed her ear, stopping by the drawing room door.
‘I didn’t pay for it,’ he said.
‘No, but I think you’re earning your keep.’
He nipped her earlobe.
‘Aren’t I just?’ he said, nudging her through the doorway.
The smell changed again. Less musty, more lived-in, with a hint of her favourite perfume from where she had sprayed it into the air before leaving the house.
Halfway across the room, Jason came to a standstill and turned her around to face him.
‘Arms up,’ he said, placing his hands in her armpits as a prompt.
She raised her hands in immediate surrender and let him lift her vest up and off her, leaving her in bra and jeans.
‘Should’ve got you to buy some of their pervy underwear,’ he said. ‘Nice PVC corset or something. Next time.’
He slid one hand into the small of her back, holding her steady while he used the other to trace the outline of her bra cups, then hold her breasts in his palm, rubbing and kneading them under the padded satin.
‘You were never tempted to get a boob job then?’ he said. ‘These are one hundred per cent real.’
‘No, no. I had Botox, and fillers, and a few bits and bobs but nothing major. Why, do you think I should have had my boobs done?’
‘Fuck, no. Shagged a girl with implants once, was like feeling up a melon. Weird. I like a bit of give.’
‘And a bit of take,’ she whispered.
‘Yeah,’ he said, and she could picture the lascivious smirk on his face. ‘A lot of take.’
He ran his hands over her ribs, her sides, her back and shoulders, then he edged her backwards until her thighs met the side of the bed and she tumbled into a sitting position.
Then he was unlacing her shoes and pulling off her socks, holding each bare foot and giving it a stroke that came perilously close to a tickle until she curled up her toes and tried to kick him off.
‘Oi, feisty,’ he warned. ‘You need to watch yourself, madam. I’m the one with the whip.’
It was a good point. She twisted her ankles, as if using them to plead and wheedle. He pulled her back to her feet and unbuttoned the waistband of her jeans.
‘What’s in here, then?’ he murmured, pushing his hand down inside.
She held herself as straight as she could, gasping as he delved between her thighs, forcing them apart. His fingers pushed up at the gusset of her knickers, making the cotton rub and bunch inside her pussy lips. She felt like falling backwards, her knees beginning to buckle, but he put a hand on her hip and kept at her, rucking the thin material of the knickers until it was fully inside her lips, a thick strip covering her clit.
‘How many times do you think I’m going to make you come tonight?’ he asked as he worked on her.
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, her thoughts reeling away from her.
‘Guess. Go on. How many?’
He pushed the wedge of fabric up and down, making sure the friction against her clit was just enough to be m
addening.
‘Three,’ she said at random.