“Master Arthur,” His voice was filled with authority and Jenna shivered, nestling herself closer to him. “My sub would like a closer look at your work.”
He must have replied, but Jenna didn’t hear him. What right did Henry have to call her his. His responsibility, sure, but his sub? He should have made the distinction clearer. But did she really want him to?
Some of the beauty was lost as Jenna ran her hands inches above the painted submissive, tracing the wax through air. Through the safety of arms that kept her from masked strangers and open faced vultures, Jenna felt unsure.
She spent the next few days consequently feeling sorry for herself, and feeling confused by her own lack of restraint. Evenings spent in pyjamas watching cartoons meant that it was like a breath of fresh air when she finally worked up the will to face the outside world, keeping on her clean work clothes and heading over to Aaron’s. She had spoken very little to him and Viola on her morning coffee hunts, and she now felt freed by their lack of knowledge of her exploits. She felt as if part of herself had been separated by her inability to speak of it, and a small smile graced her lips as she walked briskly down the empty road. The early evening air was cool and the whole area appeared sparsely populated as shops began to close. Only four customers remained in Aaron’s café as Jenna drew close enough to spy them through the tall arched windows. A couple sat in the corner furthest from Viola, munching on a plate of brownie slices that sat between them. The other seated patron, a man, sat alone a few tables behind them, a newspaper spread out before him as he idly stirred his mug of coffee. Aaron’s never was extraordinarily busy in the evenings, and the final person left with a take-away cup. He walked in the opposite direction away from her, but in the split second when he held the door open, Jenna saw his face. His stubble covered jaw and well-worn bag both.
Jenna saw the brown leather bound book that hung from elegant fingers with spotless nails.
Jenna didn’t make the connection for a while. In fact, it wasn’t until she was halfway through her second cup of tea that the realisation struck and she nodded along with Viola’s ramblings meaninglessly. She had no clue what the girl was saying; how could she? She had no focus on the inane chatter as her mind whirled, containing itself only out of politeness.
“Mm.” Jenna murmured her agreement as she swallowed down the hot drink, impatiently waiting for the right moment to speak. Finally, finally Viola quieted and Jenna still remained silent, counting down the seconds as she waited for enough time to pass for her to broach the matter without changing the subject out of the blue.
“Viola?” She asked softly. “A man left here literally a couple of minutes before I got here. Do you happen to know him?”
“Henry? Yeah, he’s a homeless guy that we give coffee to.”
Well, that answered that. But why didn’t he stay with friends? Jenna knew for a fact that Amelia would house any friends in need. Did she even know?
“Do you know what, y’know, got him into that situation?” Jenna asked desperately, but Viola shook her head.
“Aaron just told me to give him coffee, and food if he’d take it. He started coming here before I started working here so… well, it seemed rude to ask. And he’s really nice.” Viola smiled widely and Jenna nodded, drumming her nails against the table. “Why, you got the hots for him?” Viola blushed cheekily and giggled, pulling Jenna’s features into a smile with her.
“Something like that.” She admitted. “No, I saw him somewhere, that’s all.”
“Well, wherever it was, you should see if they can give him a job. He’s certainly not unemployed for lack of trying!”
“Where does he go? He doesn’t sleep rough does he?”
“I don’t know.” Viola shrugged sadly. “But he doesn’t seem like the type to ask for help.”
Jenna nodded thoughtfully. She stayed a little longer, but her head was spinning with questions that only increased on that coming Friday.
Henry wasn’t there.
Chapter Five
“Yes, mum. I’m fine.” Jenna sighed and slumped against the kitchen counter as she mentally conceded defeat to the older woman.
“No you’re not. The way that you have been treating your sister…” With a heart groan, Jenna held the phone away from her ear, her free hand pinching the bridge of her nose. She returned the phone to its rightful place and begged her tone to not become that of a nine year old, whining to mummy about their nasty siblings.
“Honestly mother, I haven’t been treating Jasmine in any way that could be considered unsupportive at all. I simply think that she’s too old to be coddled about a measly break up.”
Especially now that my love life has gone down the pan. Jenna sighed once more, knowing full well that Henry’s absence was nothing to do with her sister, or likely anyone she knew for that matter. Maybe he had simply caught on to her weird behaviour at Sarah and Arthur’s demo, and taken it to mean that she didn’t want to belong to him.
She was brought back to herself by a screeching sound that she took a couple of seconds to recognise as her mother.
“… I know I brought you up better than that! And when exactly are you coming home?! You-“
“I am at home, mother. I moved out a few years ago, remember?”
“You moved away a few years ago! That’s the problem! We never get to see you anymore love, no wonder Jasmine is so distraught.”
“It would probably be worse with me there mum.” Jenna mumbled feebly, prodding a half-rotten orange with morbid curiosity. She really should just give up on the fruit bowl. That or eat all of the fruit instead of just the pieces that didn’t appear bruised.
“Oh no it wouldn’t! Don’t be ridiculous. You know what I say; home is where your family are!”
“Yes, I know mum, I’ll talk to her.”
“See that you do.” Mia Hart was at once both reprimanding and pleading, and Jenna sighed soundlessly, tossing the unwanted bacteria farm into the bin. “I’ll be checking.”
“Okey doke. Talk soon.”
“You have to go? Oh, well, I hope to see you soon, love.”
“Love you. Bye.”
Jenna hung up with an almost inaudible sigh, knowing full well that she should ring her sister before her mum had the chance to. It was somewhat soul destroying as Jenna punched the numbers in, a wave of resigned misery coating over her. It as a couple of rings before Jasmine picked up, and Jenna spoke before her sister could.
“Hey, Jasmine.”
“Jenna!” A long-suffering voice replied. “It’s so good to hear from you… I’ve been thinking about phoning you.”
More than thinking about phoning her, but in the spirit of things Jenna decided against throwing a tantrum. Her fist curled against the spotless worktop, Jenna forced some concern into her voice and internally cringed.
“Yeah, I just wanted to check that you were ok. You know, with recent events.”
“Oh, well…. I’m okay, really. I mean, it’s empowering isn’t it? Living on your own…” She sounded unconvincing, even over the phone, and so Jenna came to invite her over for a weekend that was suitably in the future, and then proceeded to push her sister’s worries from her mind with worries that were, to be honest, far less pressing.
A couple more weeks passed until Jenna saw Henry at Amelia’s again. She passed him on the streets a couple of times and began to approach, only to quickly slip away without speaking to him. It wasn’t that she was ashamed, or conflicted, simply that she was afraid of what he would say, and if her kind intentions would ruin the something better that they could have if given the chance.
So when, at Amelia’s three weeks later, Henry was there, clean shaven and confident, Jenna jumped at the chance to push herself on him, demanding that he take her down to the basement, simply for the small pleasure of being thought of as his.
She paid little attention to the demonstrations, and in the dark she grew bold. She twisted in his arms to face him, her lips kissing the lobe of his ea
r with her words. “Sir,” She asked softly. “May I kiss you?”
He nodded his permission, and accepted her lips against his. A soft brush of lips before she closed her mouth around his lower lip and licked, withdrawing when he made to control it.
Without a word, she turned back to the display, the curving of his lips apparent to her through the corner of her eye as she moved.
She was slightly more hesitant when, after another arousing demonstration the next week, they made their way back up the stairs to the bright lights and loud noise. She wasn’t subtle, she knew, but if any time were one for her to take initiative, then it was now, while she was throbbing with want and her arms were rebelling against her, reaching out for the warm, comfortable man.
“Sir,” She whispered, standing close enough to mumble. “Would you like to come back with me?” She gestured to the door and held eye contact as she waited, watching his delicious lips curve up into a smile once more.
“You want to invite a strange Dominant into your home, rather than play here?”
Jenna flushed, but fought to make her tone firmer. “You may be strange, but I think I’m alright with you.”
He laughed, a deep rumble that sounded deliberate to Jenna as it sent shivers down her spine, and slowly dragged his gaze over her body. “You are more than alright with me, babe.”
She usually hated that word, but the endearment on his lips made her fight a girlish giggle worthy of Viola as the colour rushed up to her face again in full force. Unable to speak, she nodded, and tugged him through the masses to reach the front door, waving to Amelia and Dom as she passed them. Outside of the door, she shivered. Having gotten a taxi to Amelia’s, she had only been wearing a thin coat on top of her clothing and now that she found herself outdoors without it, she was cold. And then embarrassed when she looked down at herself and saw what Amelia’s neighbours would see should they decide to peek out of their windows. An average height woman wearing articles of clothing that probably surpassed inappropriate. Forget tight tank tops and short shorts, Jenna’s tiny burlesque style skirt did nothing to hide her suspender belt, and forget strappy tops; her shoulders were entirely bare, clothed in goose bumps as Henry lifted his black leather jacket from his shoulders, wrapping it around her with ease.
“Here,” He murmured, and then nudged her gently. “Lead the way.”
Instead of turning back and rescuing her jacket from Amelia, she nodded and began to walk. She was content in silence as she mused about the man beside her, but he had other ideas.
“So,” He began conversationally. “How do you know Amelia and Dom?”
“I met them when I first moved here, through a mutual acquaintance.”
An utter twat, but there was no need for her to say.
“How about you?”
“I mentored her, in a manner of speaking, a while back.”
“Oh.” Thoughts of Amelia trussed up and tear streaked flooded Jenna’s mind before she could stop them, and Henry smirked as if he knew. Or had guessed.
“As a rather small female, and rather young at the time, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable in a dominant role to begin with. We met at a munch and then, somehow, I ended up doing scenes with her; just showing her the ropes. You know,” He mused. “That’s probably why she’s gone and found such a young submissive. She always tried to make herself seem as superior as possible.”
Well, many Dominants seemed to do that. And Dom, at twenty six, was only seven years younger than Amelia.
Jenna smirked cheekily as she said as much, leading to an outraged defence from and mock battle with Henry. It calmed her, that was certain, and so it was as simple as dipping a finger into water to slide into bed with him. With the lights out and the sky dark, all that she could do was feel his manipulations of her willing body, and hear demands and grunts; her sighs. She gave herself over to him completely, lost in a world of sensations that only climbed higher and higher until she was left with a buzzing, flickering completeness, heightened by the warmth of his body still curled close to her own.
When she woke up, it was because she could feel him stirring.
His whole being was entwined with hers, and she felt the loss of every inch of his body as he attempted to pull away.
“Good morning.” She whispered feebly. Her eyes held onto the bedside lamp, refusing to turn around. He too stopped moving, and cleared his throat as he sat beside her.
‘Mornin’”
A couple of deep breaths, and a moment’s pause.
Jenna forced a cheery tone into her voice and raised herself into a seated position beside him. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“I should get going.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Anywhere you need to be?”
He didn’t reply, and Jenna smiled genuinely, expectantly, as she nudged him. “Go on. Just stay for breakfast, and then you may escape. It’s not like I can keep you here!”
He nodded, and so the two ate breakfast together. This forced a routine for when they would meet at Amelia’s. They would watch the proceedings of the night in the basement, and they then would go back to Jenna’s to re-enact anything appealing. They would wake for Jenna to make breakfast, and by the time Jenna had showered afterwards he would have left. She began to stretch out the hours, making him stay longer perhaps than he originally meant to.
He began to wake first, and find his way into her kitchen to cook her food.
The pattern continued, and Jenna started going to Aaron’s in the evenings, around the time that she had seen him before, but to no avail. She seemed justified in finding him there in a way that she wasn’t in broaching the topic while under his command. Outside of Amelia’s, and outside of her bedroom, they were just two random people with no hierarchical roles whatsoever. The power play stopped when they left the bed, but the compulsion to please him stayed.
Their breakfast banter was light, and footed deeply in impersonal topics of little consequence. As it grew colder, the sky would be darker as they rose, giving way to the sensual activity that they engaged in with the lights out. By the sixth night spent together he stayed not only the night, but most of the following day as well.
Still, they spoke little. The chattered inanely while catching their breath and the light-hearted banter gave way somehow to Jenna’s naked form being bent over the arm of the sofa for his careful inspection. He was gentle as he pried her legs apart.
It only made the sharp pain of his palm hitting her flesh all the more delicious. It rose, a slow burn as her flesh pinked and heated. She felt herself heating inside too, becoming wetter and wetter under his careful attentions. Without warning he slid a finger inside, curving it against her sodden walls.
“Now, we are excited, aren’t we?”
He removed his finger and Jenna whimpered, wiggling her hips against the chair. “Yes sir.” She whispered.
“Naughty slut.” He snapped, and his hand made hard contact with her flesh once more. He mock sighed and ran his hand over her stinging flesh, “What am I going to do with you?”
“Anything you want, Sir.”
Her tone was light and airy for someone who had spent so much time quietly sobbing and her exhilaration was evident in it.
His breath caught and he ran his hands up her sides, drawing them around to cup her breasts as he placed a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck.
“Oh, that was definitely the right answer, pet.” He purred, open mouthed kisses making their way down her spine to lick and kiss her tortured flesh. She jerked against him when he made contact, mewling in protest even as the action sent shudders through her. Her eyes squeezed shut, she lost herself in it.
“Oh please, Master.” She whimpered dazedly, completely unaware of the alarmed, vulnerable even, shadow that passed over her companion’s features. “Please fuck me.”
She heard a deep groan as she felt him parting her, stretching her as he eased his way slowly in. She whined at the contact as his body came flush with hers, aggr
avating her punished bottom. With every thrust he held her tighter, made her wetter, teased her further. The pain served to heighten the slow, unexpectedly sweet love making and Jenna lost herself in its perfection.
“I wish you would stay here longer.” She murmured, and then cried out as his fingers plucked at her nipples, carefully distending them. She didn’t forget her words however, nor did she say them in the heat of the moment, and she repeated herself afterwards as they lay together, squidged up close on the bright orange furniture.
“Will you stay longer?” She repeated, her voice weak and trembling.
“How much longer?” He asked.
“Forever.
Or as long as you want me.”
“There’s so much you don’t know about me.” He sighed, his fingers trailing through her hair. “I don’t think that it’s a good idea.”
“Why not? Do you have a wife that you are secretly hiding from me?”
“No. This isn’t Jane Eyre, I swear. No crazy wives in the attic.”
“What do you mean then?” She asked innocently.
“I’m… not currently in the best of circumstances to support you.” The room was silent as they both contemplated his meaning, Jenna trying to decide which approach to take with her prideful Dominant.
“Who said I needed supporting?” She pleaded, her voice tiny. “This is exactly how my life is at the moment. It would just be so much better if it had you in it.”
“I’m unemployed.” He told her. “I don’t feel comfortable staying with you without being able to take care of you in any way.”
“You can take care of me; in every way that I want a Dominant to take care of me! If you want to work, then we’ll look for a job, but I don’t see how that is of any consequence!”
“I have no home.” He snapped. “I live on the fucking streets.”
Switch (A BDSM Romance Novel) Page 4
