Perhaps this exchange affected Jason’s confidence because the first stroke was a mere whisper, a sweet little brush that didn’t even snap.
‘Oh, it tickles,’ she said, wriggling so she strained in her ribbon tethers.
‘I think I’d have to do it harder,’ he said apologetically. ‘To make a mark.’
‘That’s all right,’ she said, suddenly brave. ‘Go for it.’
This was followed by a much more jarring blow, causing her to lurch forward and suck in a breath.
‘You did say,’ reproached Jason. ‘Are you OK? Ooh, that looks good.’
‘Is it pretty?’ she gasped.
‘Really pretty. If I can do a few more, I’ll let you look at it in the mirror after.’
‘Deal.’
She braced herself and breathed through the succeeding strokes, easing herself into the headspace that allowed her to accept them without rancour. Yes, now this was feeling good, the slow burn building between her already throbbing pussy lips.
Another seven or eight smacks of the strap ensued before Jason laid it aside and went to stand further behind her, a connoisseur admiring a masterwork.
‘Really nice,’ he said. ‘I can’t wait to meet this bloke. I’m going to work on my design tonight.’
‘Can I . . .?’
‘Yeah. Hold on.’
He came around to untie her and took her over to the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. Over her shoulder, she saw a lacy pattern on her buttocks, bright red and creamy white, a kinky tattoo.
‘It really works,’ she said with some surprise.
‘It’s good, isn’t it? You have to be dead careful where the strap lands though. Need a good eye.’
‘Well, you’ve got that, haven’t you, da Vinci?’
He smiled at her reflection, revelling in the compliment.
‘OK, enough of the artistry,’ he said. ‘Back to basics. Get back on that bed, as you were, and spread those legs. You’re in for it now.’
And she was. She took everything he had to give her, tightening her muscles around his thick, thrusting length. She imagined his eyes on her patterned rear, gorging on his handiwork. He ran his thumbs over her bottom cheeks, exploring their texture and heat, the sensation adding to everything else that rioted inside her.
It was a hot, hard coupling, ramming her towards the wrought-iron headboard, exercising every muscle she possessed and a few that were still in development. He made her come twice before he was ready to unload, by which time her knees had given way and he was having to keep her upright on all fours with an arm beneath her ribs. She floundered like a rag doll, helpless to do anything but take what she was given.
Afterwards, they lay in salty languor, on damp sheets. Jenna’s thoughts were half-formed, little scraps floating by like the spots before her eyes.
‘I’d go there again,’ said Jason. ‘That shop, I mean.’
Jenna laughed an exhausted laugh.
‘I think what just happened constitutes a rave review,’ she said.
‘London’s all right, really, isn’t it? It’s not like I expected it to be.’
‘No? And what was that?’
‘I dunno. Like you see in films. Red buses and those soldiers in furry hats and that. It’s more like a real place, though, but bigger.’
‘You really are a Bledburn boy, aren’t you?’