JennasConsent

by Jennifer Kacey

  “You’re so fucking sexy when you’re trying to follow the rules.”

  “That’s not a rule,” she bit out.

  “No, but it’s sure as hell true.”

  She hissed out a breath as he pulled her chest toward him, licking across the swell of one of her breasts. He dipped his tongue into her cleavage and then ran his nose up her sternum and throat.

  “I can’t wait to taste every inch of you.”

  “Ditto,” she offered as her head fell backward.

  He wiggled her lower body down until her pussy was flush against him again. He urged her to move and kept talking. “Do not run from me.”

  She picked her head back up and he pulled her close, so she stared down at him again. “As in, no chasing?”

  He shook his head slowing their movement but not stopping all together. “As in, if you have a problem with anything, not just us, you’ll come to me. You won’t run away, hide, deal with it on your own, and shut me out of the process. If I have to chase you down to figure out there’s a problem that wastes your time and mine. We have a lot better things we could be doing.”

  His attempt at lightening the situation didn’t go unnoticed and he must have known how much he was asking for because he didn’t rush her to answer. He was patient until she nodded.

  “I want the actual words, Jenna. A simple gesture isn’t going to cut it on this one.”

  She pursed her lips, weighing her options. He was serious and she knew it. “If I like to be chased, during a scene I mean, is that going to be okay?”

  “Are you talking about no meaning yes or physically running and I get to catch you?”

  “Both.”

  “Done.” No hesitation and if she wasn’t mistaken, his cock jerked in agreement beneath her as well.

  “I will do my best to come to you if I have a problem.”

  “Not good enough.”

  She huffed softly and he smirked.

  “I will come to you if I have a problem and will do my best to use my words to tell you what is happening.”

  “Better.”

  He reached between them, beneath her tutu and filled her pussy with his fingers.

  If there was a time she’d been wetter she didn’t remember it. He turned her on to the millionth power.

  She couldn’t stay removed from him. Couldn’t keep her feelings remote as he fucked his thick digits into her.

  With anyone else she could, since he-who-shall-not-be-named had walked away, but with Nick? No. He touched her deep inside and emotions she’d hoped were long ago dead and buried rose to the surface.

  Her fingers had found their way into his thick hair and she held on for dear life.

  “Fuck yourself onto my hand.”

  Her hips were already jerking, her pussy sliding on and off as she rode his fingers. He curled them just enough at the end, they pushed against her G-spot when she moved away. Not enough. She was worried about soaking him but it gave her a flash of exactly how much fun he was going to be.

  His thumb brushed across her clit and holy fuck that was all she needed.

  “Please. Please. Please. Please,” came out of her. She begged to come with the only word her brain remembered.

  “Come, my Jenna. Come for me. For the first time of many.”

  She opened her mouth to scream when she came but nothing came out. He held on to one of her hips and thrust his fingers inside her, fucking them into her as she came all over his hand.

  Time stopped for a few seconds and they seemed to be in slow motion.

  The way his eyes flared burned into her brain. The feel of her nipples beading beneath her corset threw accelerant on the fire burning inside her. The deep breath she was trying to pull in seemed to take a decade to actually expand her lungs as much as the corset would allow.

  It was as if the inside of her was stretched away so she could look down at her face and his as she climaxed. As if she were a rubber band and at the highest peak of her orgasm someone let go of the thick band and she snapped back into place.

  Everything sped back up and she gulped oxygen as fast as she could, pumping the blood throughout her limbs, helping the tingling in her lips and fingers and toes.

  “You’re like a firecracker,” Nick was saying.

  Who knows how much she missed while she couldn’t hear anything past the blood rushing in her head.

  “It’s all I can do to hold you to me, instead of letting you shoot up into the sky. Into orbit. A shooting star has nothing on you.” He slowed his thrusts, letting her ride out the rest of her orgasm until she collapsed into his arms.

  Aftershocks blew threw her like a hurricane and he petted her pussy until she sighed in contentment.

  “If I would have had a condom on me, you already would have been fucked. So I’m adding another rule. You’ll have condoms and lube on you at all times.”

  Her brain had a hell of a hard time kicking back on and she had a feeling it took her a long time to answer. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to carry them? You’re a dude and have pockets and stuff.”

  He kissed her cheek, holding her close. “But this way you get to hide them on your person and I’ll get to find them.”

  Damn she liked the way he thought. “Yes, Sir.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds, rubbing her back.

  “Make it several condoms. I’m going to take you as many times and ways as I can think of and several ways that haven’t been invented yet.”

  Jenna smiled and she hoped he could feel it through his clothes.

  “Or I might have someone fuck you with me and we’ll need more than one at a time.”

  He said it like it was an afterthought. Just a hey-will-you-pass-me-the-sugar kind of comment but she stiffened as if he’d slapped her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” slipped out before she thought better of it.

  He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her head back so he could stare at her.

  The lighthearted man he’d been a second before was gone. In his place sat a fully dominant alpha male, snarling at her since she’d already broken rule number three, or two, or eighty-seven.

  She couldn’t fight him when he did things like that.

  Her brain turned off instantaneously as if he had a direct line to a switch inside her head, flipping her reason and her innate need to protect herself firmly to the off position.

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  His grip on her hair tightened as he searched her face and she clutched his lapel, trying to ground herself in the here and now instead of falling into his dominance.

  Lust shot to her nipples, ricocheting off each of her vertebrae, down her spine, and bouncing again and again on her clit. It made her think of a tennis ball bouncing on the ground. Hard on the first bounce and then softer and softer until a gentle drumbeat of sensation was all that remained.

  “Coming to me when you have a problem is one thing I expect, but lying? Don’t lie to me. Ever. It’s equal, in my mind, to you screaming your safe word. If you can’t tell me the truth you’d sure as shit better keep your mouth shut until you can. Got it?”

  Arousal flared hot and heavy in her core, tingling for him again, lighting up inside her no matter how much she tried to stomp out the flame.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He spoke to her even when he was completely silent. He called to her and she responded whether she wanted to or not. Like the pull of the moon on the ocean, tides rising and falling simply because the moon existed. Inevitable. Cyclical.

  That’s how he made her feel.

  She wanted to fight him just so he would subdue her.

  Rage built inside her because she needed so much from him already. She didn’t want to need anything from him.

  His thumb grazed her bottom lip. “You tell me so much when you’re like this. Scared, angry.” He watched his fingers move against her flesh as he traced her jaw, her cheek, her throat. His fingers curled around it for a moment, stealing her bre
ath.

  A sane person would freak out, right?

  Scream her safe word since a guy was choking her.

  Did she do either of those things?

  Umm—no.

  But she did hump his crotch a few times, while she could still think, swiveling her hips like she wanted to do if he’d just get naked and tell her to ride him.

  He released her throat and she exhaled, loudly.

  “I’m going to fuck the fight out of you while you’re mine.” He almost said something else but he ground his teeth together instead. The muscle clenching in his jaw drew her attention and she wanted to reach for it, to soothe him. She released his lapel and folded her hands in her lap instead.

  The bottom dropped out of her stomach when he stood abruptly, lifting her into his arms. Striding toward the hallway to take them to the elevator, and down to the playrooms.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” she blurted out before they made it halfway down the hall.

  He didn’t stop, didn’t pause, and didn’t stray from his original goal. “You know as well as anyone there are restrooms in each of the rooms downstairs. You can use it there before we get started.”

  “I-I-” She swallowed, damn near close to panicking. “I need a few minutes, Nick. Please.”

  He stopped on a dime, right in front of the elevator door, staring down at her, searching her face.

  What he looked for she didn’t know. It was all she could do not to make some flippant comment, or hide behind the mask she normally wore. She let him stare at her.

  Let him. Funny.

  She almost rolled her eyes at her own vain pride. This wasn’t a man easily topped from the bottom and that didn’t get her rocks off anyway.

  But she was so used to hiding what she really wanted, it was a struggle as he dissected her.

  What he found, she wasn’t certain but he slowly released the hold he had underneath her legs, setting her carefully on her feet.

  He grabbed his card from his pocket, swiping it through the access panel for the elevator and then he inputted his password.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, turning her foot on the carpet as she waited for him to speak.

  “Go to the restroom and take your few minutes.”

  The door whooshed open and Jenna turned on her heel to beat feet back down the hall, no real destination in mind, other than away.

  Nicks arm shot out and he grabbed her forearm. “Fifteen minutes. Not a second more. If you make me come for you, you’ll regret it.” For once he didn’t ask whether she understood him.

  Her impression of a bobble-head doll must have been pretty convincing.

  He let her go, stepping into the elevator backward so he never took his eyes from her. The once-over he touched her with was better than most men’s full seduction.

  He didn’t say anything else. Just stared at her. The doors started to slide closed as he loosened the knot on his tie. His characteristic smirk appeared as he pulled it out from around his neck. It reminded her of a whip tail, the way he clutched the end in his fist.

  The doors met in the center, finally obstructing him from view. Her body sagged and she leaned against the wall.

  Several deep breaths should have calmed her down, but it didn’t help. She wanted to run home. She needed to run to him and forget everything else.

  On unsteady feet, with a hand on the wall, she made her way back to the bar and around a corner to one of the public restrooms.

  Bypassing the stalls, she walked straight to the sinks with the giant mirror above. She splashed cold water on her face, neck and chest, drying off with paper towels. She gasped, stumbling back a step, almost tripping over her own feet when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

  She still looked like herself but her eyes…

  She looked like all of the other starry-eyed subs that came into her prep room, on the verge of something wonderful but scared out of their minds.

  Her eyes hadn’t look like that in…

  Yeah.

  The counter drew her attention, mostly so she didn’t make the same mistake of looking at herself in the mirror again.

  Baskets of condoms and travel packages of lube sat side by side, as if they were shy lovers waiting for everyone to leave so they could get better acquainted.

  She closed the distance to grab one of each, slipping them inside the elastic of her tutu. Her fingers shook when his comment from earlier reared its ugly head again.

  He’d dropped the ménage comment. He hadn’t brought it back up, hadn’t pushed her on it. She didn’t know why he’d left it. Her reprieve from it wouldn’t last long, but she was thankful for it.

  What will I tell him when he asks again?

  Panic flirted with her toes as if she stood at the edge of the ocean.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, partially to hide, but mostly so she could listen.

  Utter silence greeted her search.

  There was no one around to offer her words of encouragement. No warm touch to help point her in the right direction or guide her along the correct path.

  She was alone, and that’s how she wanted it—right?

  She threw out her trash, avoided looking in the mirror again and headed for the door.

  Her savior or her destructor waited for her, and she could do nothing but walk to meet her fate.

  Chapter Five

  Nerves crawled inside her the closer she made it to the door of Nick’s playroom. He’d never really asked her to set anything up. She’d never prepared anyone upstairs especially for him. A fact she’d taken offense to more than once.

  Admitting that she would have been pissed off the entire time she did said volumes. That bitter pill she had to swallow made her stomach churn even more.

  She never got nervous walking to a playroom. Not to have sex at least.

  True, she hadn’t had sex at The Library since Nick and Jackson had started working there. Realizations like that could honestly go take a flying leap.

  Her focus eluded her completely when she heard music coming from the room.

  It was late.

  Not like, arm stretch, “it’s a bit past ten and I need to get to bed to get my full eight hours.” More like, when they were done the sun would be peeking over the horizon.

  She’d had sex after Ian and Skye was right. They were all random one-night stands to take the edge off. Most of them had asked her to play again but she rarely indulged in that. A permanent attachment to someone was the last thing she wanted or needed in her life, so she kept her nose down. She did her work. She made clothes and accessories for the club and made custom things on the side.

  Her brand, Kinky Pinky, had been born the year before. She was proud of it and finally financially ready to really take it somewhere, which was part of what she wanted to talk to the girls about.

  Any time she thought of it she nearly squealed with glee.

  But not as she walked to Nick.

  Not then.

  He consumed her thoughts as the open door came fully into view.

  This was different, he was different to her and she knew it.

  No matter how much she wanted it to be otherwise, this was personal. Her heart was already involved. She stumbled when that realization had half a second to sink in. She grabbed for the wall, pausing in the middle of the hallway.

  The lips of her sex slid against each other, reminding her of what she’d done with Nick and that she was still naked beneath her tutu. He exposed more than her girly parts when he made her strip for him at the bar.

  What threw her was that she’d been completely naked for other men, save for her tutu. Strapped to a cross or spanking bench and on her hands and knees taking it from behind, but she hadn’t felt as naked as she had in his arms as he’d carried her from the bar.

  They worked together, for God’s sake. What in the hell had she been thinking?

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach again.

  Scratch the butterflies part. They felt m
ore like rabid squirrels.

  The corset she practically lived in felt too tight.

  But she’s wasn’t a coward.

  She put her shoulders back, let go of the wall and closed the distance to his door.

  All of the rooms were set up pretty much the same unless a special scene was set. She knew what to expect but still hesitated as she cleared the threshold.

  Closing the door behind her would make everything feel very final.

  Intimate.

  Terrifying.

  To prove to herself she wasn’t scared, that she was still king of the fucking world and all that, she pushed the metal slab shut.

  The tumbler snapping into place, made her jump.

  King of the fucking world—scared rabbit…

  They were close—ish.

  She rolled her eyes, and gave herself a mini pep talk that went something like, Turn the fuck around and stop being such a pussy.

  Two steps closer was as far as she made it. She froze.

  There he stood.

  Tall, proud and dominating the large space. He’d ditched the suit jacket, his tie was nowhere to be seen. His shirt was unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up. He was beautiful but that wasn’t what made her stop.

  He had a length of rope hanging from a tight fist.

  Oh. Fuck.

  Her instincts were normally spot-on when it came to rope but this time she almost prayed to be wrong. She glanced at his feet and a black canvas suitcase sat open. There must have been twenty-five hanks of rope inside.

  Sexiest toy bag—ever.

  For a rope whore like herself that was the equivalent to a coffee table filled with lines of coke for an addict.

  Her torso relaxed, imagining what the first scene with him would be like. How amazing their energy would be. And he could hurt her in rope, with rope and she wanted the pain. Not because she was a masochist but because she wanted to give him what he needed.

  Sexual tension invaded her, whispering to her, reminding her how long it had been since she’d been lucky enough to get fucked while tied. She could already feel him sliding deep, taking her. He would latch on to the lines of jute around her body, rubbing it back and forth as he took her. A line of rope burn would appear that she’d have for days, maybe even weeks after.