‘Oh, I think I can do better than that. Let’s see, shall we?’
He took his fingers out of her crevice and pushed the jeans over her hips and down to her ankles. Once she had wriggled her feet free, he pulled her into an embrace and stood with her clasped to him, kissing her fiercely with one hand on her bottom, inside her knickers.
Once she was as hot and melty as she could be, he laid her on the bed, kneeling over her, and kissed her from her throat to the elastic of her knickers. On the way, he unclasped her bra and freed her breasts, treating them to a thorough tongue bath. She was twisting this way and that, her back arched, her gusset soaked, every cell of her body begging for more, harder, longer, when he rolled her roughly over and began the business of cuffing.
One velvet restraint was buckled on to her left wrist, then the connecting chain was drawn up and looped around one of the bars in the wrought iron headboard. Her right wrist received the same treatment, leaving her with arms spread out on either side of her head, and her hands quite helpless. She could waggle her fingers a little but, in effect, she was defenceless and bound. Now, she would find out how much she trusted Jason – and how much he deserved her trust.
This could go terribly wrong, and yet she had faith that it would not. Was it faith, or was it sheer excitement, tripping through her veins and sparking on her skin?
‘Oh yeah,’ he crooned, and she felt his knees press her legs together, the denim rough against her bare skin as he straddled her like a cowboy on his mount. ‘My prisoner.’
He put his hands underneath her, coming between her nipples and the bedspread, holding her breasts firmly while he fed hot breath and kisses into her ears and neck. The mattress creaked softly as he rocked back and forth, pushing his still-covered erection against her bottom until it had made a considerable dent in the cotton, right in the crease of her cheeks.
‘Have you ever done anal?’ he asked.
She shook her head.
‘No.’
‘Wrong answer,’ he murmured, right into her ear. ‘The right answer was “not yet – but soon”.’
She squirmed, feeling the tension of the cuffs on her wrists, and loving it. She was completely lost to this man, in thrall to the obscene education he was giving her. She wanted to pass all the tests, move on to the advanced level, make him proud.
‘I’ll have your arse,’ he continued, his voice like filthy honey, sending its dirty sweetness way inside her. ‘I’ll make it mine, babe. All mine. You’re all mine.’
He kissed her neck again and sucked it, reminding her of the old days, in back alleys behind tawdry pubs and clubs, with Deano. Those no-holds-barred, hands-all-over-everywhere days. God, they’d been good. How did they end? Why did they end?
He released her breasts and shuffled further down her legs, peeling her knickers off as he moved lower.
‘Are you wet, love?’ he asked, removing them completely. ‘I think you are. Are you?’
‘Mm-hmm,’ she said, feeling the burn of her cheeks, even though they were buried in a pillow.
‘Oh yeah,’ he said, an explorer discovering his promised land – except in Jason’s case the promised land was Jenna’s pussy and the explorer was his fingers. ‘God, dripping. So wet. And you reckon only three?’ He chuckled. ‘We’ll see about that.’
He smacked the backs of her thighs, once each, smartly but not especially hard.
‘Spread ’em,’ he said, in bad imitation of a US cop show.
She parted her legs, trying to imagine what he could see. Everything open and available to him, nothing off limits.
‘OK,’ he said, and she heard the rustle of paper. ‘Because you’re such a bad girl, I’m going to start with …’
She guessed he was going to use the flogger, and clenched her buttocks.
He loomed over her from behind. She could almost feel his shadow.
‘Relax them,’ he said, rubbing her bottom with his palm until she obeyed and let her muscles loosen. ‘I’m not going to beat seven bells out of you, for Christ’s sake. It’s supposed to feel good.’
The first stroke fell, a pleasant little spatter on her skin, not in the least bit painful. It was like being flogged with silk ribbons – the sting was only just detectable with serious concentration. But she knew he’d made it so deliberately, and that it could hurt a lot if he just used his wrist a bit more.
‘Is that nice, hmm?’ he asked. ‘Want more?’
‘Yes please,’ she said, very quietly. He made her say it again, louder.
She eased into the play, enjoying the sweet sensation. First it was ticklish and made her giggle, then it began to confer a slow, sensuous buzz, sensitising her and making her crave more, and harder.
Jason was keeping a close watch on her responses, it seemed, for as soon as her breathing deepened, he stopped and laid the flogger across her gradually warming globes.