JennasConsent

by Jennifer Kacey

  The sensation dulled quickly and she didn’t know if she wanted to thank her lucky stars for it finally going away… Or freak out already because she knew what would happen when he released them later. She always came when they came off. The pain was too much for her body to process so something in her head changed it to pleasure.

  Before she could think of things to beg for or promises she’d make to let her come, he abruptly stood. He had the zipper of his jeans out of the way in no time and he pulled out his cock mere inches from her face.

  He was big. Thick. And so hard it barely moved as he fisted it. The flushed head flared at the top of his shaft and her mouth watered to taste it.

  He didn’t ask her through any kind of gesture if she wanted it. Didn’t whack her on the face with it just because he could while her wrists were still cuffed behind her.

  His free hand dove into her hair and he pulled her forward, feeding his musky shaft into her mouth.

  The masculine flavor of his cock seduced her taste buds, making her salivate, creating a slippery-slidey track for him to fuck.

  She licked him, sucking on the head, working the space beneath the wider edge and the whole time she stared up at him, just as he’d told her to.

  When they found a good rhythm, he released his cock and double-fisted her hair.

  Deep throating him was no problem. She wanted him inside her in any hole he wanted to claim. The hold he had on her hair and the jerky movements he made as he thrust into her mouth told her how close he was.

  She opened her throat, ready to swallow every drop of him but instead he pulled free. He jerked his cock, masturbating in front of her.

  Sexiest man she’d ever seen.

  The first ropy splash of come landed on her breast. The second and third landed on her corset as he aimed his cock lower.

  He was marking her.

  She wrung her hands behind her, wanting to touch him, wanting to help make him come. Her focus flashed back up to his face. He was gorgeous in the throes of his orgasm.

  Dominant, beautiful.

  He came on her chest, finishing on her nipples as he spread his come on her. She jumped when he touched her, brushing more rope.

  Then he was down on the ground with her, pushing her backward until she was lying beneath him. He spread her legs wide, grabbed a condom and tore the wrapper off as if he was one of the kids in the Willy Wonka movie and he knew he had the golden ticket.

  In no time his still-hard cock was covered and he buried himself inside her pussy. She gasped at the sudden fullness, panting as he wasted no time fucking her on the floor.

  Several rope bundles were beneath her and she lay crooked because of her arms being cuffed. It was still the best sex she’d had in four and something years.

  A whimper fell from her lips as she realized it actually could have been the best sex she’d ever had.

  He leaned down and claimed her mouth, taking every ounce of pleasure from her and returning it a hundred-fold. He even tucked his arm behind her neck, bringing her that much closer to his mouth. His gray eyes held her captive. She couldn’t look away, even if she’d tried. Each thrust shook the clamps on her tits, making her pussy clench down on his shuttling erection.

  His lips worked her mouth open and he tasted her, licking along her teeth, sweeping in and learning everything. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and lose herself in the sensation but closing her eyes wasn’t an option.

  When she got that close-to-falling-over-the-edge, she mumbled, “I will not tell a lie, I will not tell a lie,” in her head over and over.

  He pumped inside her, high and so deep she couldn’t hold back. She couldn’t not come and she fought it for as long as she could. She begged to come, pleading with him. He said something she didn’t hear and her brain was too far gone to understand anything else. The fly of his pants rubbed against her clit and she finally exploded.

  Her orgasm rushed to the center of her pussy, where he continued to fuck her, then catapulted her to the ends of the earth. It was perfect and amazing and she didn’t even feel bad for coming when he told her not to because she came for him.

  She didn’t come because she wanted to. The reason behind it had nothing to do with her at all. Her pleasure was his. She gave it to him, offering herself to him as freely as she ever had before. As much of herself as she had to give him, it was his.

  Forever.

  Then he released the nipple clamps one at a time, another orgasm ignited in her pelvis. Her nipples throbbed as the blood rushed back to the tight tips and she screamed, bucking beneath him as he pumped and jerked against her.

  He laid his forehead against hers as they came together and he kissed her mouth again. He spoke against her lips but she couldn’t hear him.

  Her eyes finally closed, so she couldn’t see him as he rocked against her. She squeezed him with her thighs, hugging him as best she could, thanking him for what he’d given her.

  She smiled once and then everything faded away.

  She floated back down to earth a little while later, blinking. He cuddled her on the floor with rope all around and some beneath her still.

  He had removed the ear plugs and the cuffs were unlocked but still circling her wrists. He looked all put back together when she checked down his body. He even still had his shoes on.

  “I’m sorry I came when I wasn’t supposed to. You made it impossible for me to hold it. It was…amazing.”

  He kissed the crown of her head, holding her close. He must have been uncomfortable just like she was but you wouldn’t guess just by looking at him.

  “You earned it.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. You’d already gotten what I needed you to understand, that’s the whole point of punishment. While I fucked you, you kept repeating ‘I will not tell a lie’.”

  She thought she’d been quiet, she’d thought she was only saying it to herself.

  His words echoed in her head again. I want to hear you.

  She was speechless.

  He got her. All of her and knew how to handle her. To give her what she needed.

  “Good girl, Jenna. Good girl.”

  Being hit by a 747 wouldn’t have hit her any harder.

  The two words she’d ached to hear again sank inside her. They multiplied, filling her up as if they were water and she was the vessel meant to hold them. To protect them. To keep them safe and sound until he needed them back.

  She’d needed to hear them for so long but she’d been worried they’d feel hollow and empty. It wasn’t the same as hearing them from Ian.

  But it was amazing. A revelation.

  So what did she do?

  She got mad.

  “What the fuck?” She scrambled out of his arms and up onto her shaky legs. She kicked his rope as she stomped over to where her tutu sat. She yanked it up her legs and cursed as the scratchy material brushed across her sore backside.

  “I’m not done with you.” He stood, coming at her.

  “Oh, you sure as shit are. You gave me an order that you knew I couldn’t follow through on and you willfully set out to make me fail at.” She ripped off the cuffs around her wrists and threw them at him. “I’m having a problem with someone. Is this what you meant when you said I needed to come to you with them?”

  “Would you just calm down?”

  “I am calm,” she yelled at him as she stomped around him, shoving her feet in her shoes. Then she whirled around, planting her fists on her hips. She felt like an avenging fairy or something. Pretty hard to take herself seriously with her tits hanging out. She stuffed them back in her corset and the scent of his come rose to greet her and flash her the middle finger.

  “Use your words, Jenna.”

  She clomped back over to him and got in his face again. “I’m tired. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m feeling bitchy as hell. I’m still horny and I want to go home.” She reached up to take his collar off but the cold metal of a lock brushed her fingers. “You
put a fucking lock on it?”

  “Sure did. Thirty days. No returns. No exchanges. Sale is final. Check the fine print.”

  She took off for the door, seeing red. Not because he’d locked her in the collar but because she was glad she couldn’t take it off. “I’m going home to sleep.”

  “You are in my bed each night. That’s the rules.”

  She hooked her thumb toward the rope scattered all over the floor. “Consider that pallet of rope tonight your bed. I was in your arms while we laid on it, so technically I’m not breaking your precious rules.”

  “Now wait just a damn minute—”

  “What? You can get me on a technicality but you’re not subject to the same rules? Fuck. That. I may have agreed to submit to you but I did not agree to you mind-fucking me.”

  “It wasn’t on your list of hard limits, now was it?”

  “There you go again with your technicalities. I’m going home.” She opened the door.

  “Wait. You’re in no shape to drive, I’ll take you.”

  “No, I can take care of myself.”

  “You’re being a bit rash.”

  She twisted the collar around, pointing to the lock. “Well, if that isn’t priceless. You calling the kettle black?”

  “Do not walk out that door, Jenna.”

  “Oh, bite me.”

  “Why do you have to be so hardheaded?”

  “Ugh. Men!” She walked out but not before she heard him call after her.

  “Women!”

  Chapter Six

  Nick slammed open the door into the security room, so fucking pissed off he couldn’t think straight.

  If she wanted to be so hardheaded that she’d storm out when he was offering her nothing but help then so be it.

  It didn’t matter to him anyway.

  Not. At. All.

  He’d cleaned up the room, throwing ropes back in the bag as if they were live grenades.

  The fact that all he had to do was move and he caught her scent on him—all over him—didn’t have anything to do with his Mount Vesuvius temper. He could have showered, washing her off, but fuck that.

  Nor did the fact that he’d stormed out of the building contribute to it, stomping self-righteously to his Mustang just to discover he had no keys to open it.

  Nothing could have been more frustrating than having to stomp back inside, past his playroom, up the elevator and to the command center.

  That room just happened to be situated smack-dab right next to Jenna’s prep room.

  All the guys called it the black hole since the girls could get lost for hours in there.

  Lost.

  Wasn’t that just the word of the damn day?

  Earlier on the couch he’d almost confessed he wanted to fuck the fight out of her. He wanted her so exhausted she’d never leave him. Never walk away. He’d swallowed the impulse—thank fuck—but the thoughts were there.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration.

  He glanced at the bank of monitors out of habit, not really seeing anything. They took up most of one wall, glowing in the dark room and casting a haze over the desk situated below them.

  He flipped on the light switch as if it had insulted his lineage. His eyes adjusted to the instantaneously bright room and he focused on the desk again.

  His keys sat innocuously on the corner, exactly where he’d left them before going down to find Jenna.

  She occupied his every thought. All he could think about was taking her, pushing her, owning her. And now that he’d had her? It was supposed to be better, right?

  Not fucking likely.

  He was sexed up to dangerous proportions, even though he’d come on her and then in her not twenty minutes before.

  God, her mouth. Every inch of her was perfect.

  And her eyes on him when she was blowing him—dammit.

  Her defiance flipped so many switches inside him he could write a thesis on punishment options.

  He took a deep breath as if he was in yoga or some shit.

  Glancing around the room seemed to distract him enough to feel human again so he checked everything again for the night even though he’d already done it.

  Twice.

  He stared at the monitors again. All sixteen of them were split into four camera views.

  Something moved on the main stage screen but when he looked again all was static. The pan, tilt and zoom controllers sitting in two positions on the desk were set to hibernate ’til the next evening and the racks of DVR equipment loaded in the back wall hummed as everything around the property was recorded.

  The external hard drives blinked as they recorded, as did the network switches mounted in a secondary rack.

  Everything was as it should be.

  Except his damn mind, which couldn’t give two shits about anything but tracking Jenna down and fucking her so completely she stopped fighting him on everything.

  He snatched his keys off the desk, shoving them in his pocket.

  Frustration built inside him until he kicked one of the chairs so hard it slid across the hard wood floor, banging into the far wall. Thankfully the wall was completely empty or Jared would have had his ass. Not to mention Bryan, who had insisted on upgrading all of the equipment before he agreed to head security.

  The guy seemed all right.

  His stoic attitude earlier had been a bit strange but he knew security. Chris and Jared trusted him. That was enough of a glowing endorsement as he needed.

  Nick stood still, blowing out a deep breath, trying to calm his inner caveman. Evanescence filtered into his ears after another exhale and he rolled his eyes. He’d told Jackson time and time again to turn off the radio every night.

  How did I miss that earlier?

  He moved over to the rack and tried flipping the power switch but it was already off.

  His eyebrows sunk into a V and a growl almost slipped out. He glanced at the monitors again, zeroing in on the main stage. It normally paid to listen to his instincts and he should have earlier when he’d caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

  It was almost five in the morning, no one was normally up now.

  But…what the hell?

  He grabbed the remaining chair, collapsing into it and stared at camera thirteen.

  Jenna stood on the main stage, wearing the same corset he’d come on less than twenty minutes ago. She’d put her panties back on and some kind of black half mask he’d never seen before.

  She was too far away and the camera on her didn’t have enough optical zoom to capture the details he wanted.

  And he wanted them all.

  Over her shoulder she carried a pink duffle bag. It looked heavy but she carried it with ease, dropping it to the right of the center of the stage. She stepped over to the far left and down the stairs, each of her movements having the same grace as a ballerina with the sexiness of a cat.

  The control panel stood no more than a foot away from the bottom step. It activated all aspects of the main stages equipment—the parts hidden inside it and the web of rigging above it.

  Jenna swiped her card and entered her password, then raised a large A-frame in the center of the stage. It rose from the stage itself, morphing from a flat surface into what he now saw.

  He’d never seen it before.

  He knew every piece of equipment in the entire club, yet somehow one sexy brunette continued to stump him.

  Four small circles rotated caddy-corner to the frame, revealing what looked like metal loops. They were situated in a square around the frame.

  She closed up the control panel, effectively locking the equipment in place.

  He’d studied rope suspension for several years and knew a tying frame when he saw one. Jenna climbed back on the stage, opened her bag and pulled out several lengths of rope. She used those to tie down the top of the frame to the anchor points she’d unearthed around it.

  Smart girl.

  Safety-conscious girl.

  His cock j
erked, reminding him he had every right to crash her little not so secret party.

  He clenched his fists around the armrests on the chair, preparing to get up and do just that. But his brain kicked in, reminding him he actually had one. She hid everything, except what he forced out of her or she revealed when she thought no one else was looking.

  He felt a fleeting moment of guilt, preparing to watch something so very personal to her—especially if she’d kept that side of herself hidden for as long as he’d been there. But he brushed that shit off his shoulders and leaned back in the chair.

  She knew the rules of security The Library employed to keep the members, employees and owners safe. Safe from accidents and stupidity.

  Cameras had been there long before he’d shown up on the scene and she knew where they all were and that the camera feeds were all recorded. She knew he could go back and look at any of the footage from a single day, weeks or months later.

  If she decided to ignore the information, then who was he to ruin an opportunity to learn more about her?

  He stared at her as she moved a step stool beneath the frame, standing on it and hefting a thick stainless steel ring into place at the apex of the frame. She quickly tied it to a swivel at the top, rotating it in both directions before climbing down.

  Realization dawned on him.

  The twins had told him of a special modification to the stage Jenna had begged for when the main unit had been constructed. It was a one-of-a-kind stage they’d commissioned specifically to their specifications. They hadn’t been specific on what modification she’d wanted added because they said it didn’t matter, since she’d never used it.

  No wonder she’d pushed Jared and Chris so hard for the frame when they were having the stage constructed.

  She was a self-rigger.

  But he reviewed the footage from the night before each morning. No way would he have missed that. No way would he have missed her.

  The bag sat open at her bare feet and she dug through it to select coils of rope. Frustration bled off her as she tossed several onto the stage.

  Interesting, how similar their mannerisms were when they were pissed off.