Choosing Rena

by Dakota Trace

  Rena nodded, suddenly tired and just wanting this whole situation over. “Ignore him. Eddie’s harmless. He was my supervisor at Star in New York. Since he married my sister and moved to Chicago, he’s tried to be my protector, regardless of how many times I’ve tried to explain I can take care of myself.”

  “We’re ready to start, Rena.” The doctor moved in front of her, tipping her head down. Jackson moved behind her, and a shiver shook her as he began rubbing his thumbs in small circles, each brush rubbing over her collarbone, distracting her as the doctor began to stitch her up. The doctor ‘tsked’ a bit under his breath before reaching for his scissors.

  “I’m sorry, Rena, but I’m going to have to cut a bit of your hair away, so I can cleanly stitch this.”

  “Okay.” She covered Jackson’s hand with hers. “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.” The sudden burn of tears against the back of her eyes made her blink rapidly. A few snips later, several of her braids fell onto the table next to her but instead of loss she had a lethargic feeling. She’d worn her hair in braids for nearly two years at Louis’s request. Right now more than anything she wanted to beg the doctor to cut them all off, to cut the last visible tie she had to Louis.

  The only thing stopping her was Jackson. A huge part of her, the submissive part, wanted his approval before she did something as drastic as cutting her hair. A low moan passed her lips as she felt torn between what the independent woman expected in regards to her self-image and what the submissive was begging for.

  “Shh, it’ll be okay, Rena.” Jackson’s words of encouragement soothed her and she relaxed back against him as the doctor continued to work on her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The fingers of sunlight were just crossing the floor in Rena’s bedroom as Jackson watched the woman he wanted to claim as his snuggle deeper into her pillow from his position behind her. Along the length of his body he could feel the heat emanating from her, and wanted nothing more than to pull her under him. During the night, her gown had ridden up, resulting in her luscious ass pressed tight against his cock. To push his dirty thoughts from his mind, he tried to concentrate on what had happened last night. It’d been rough, standing behind Rena at the hospital as the doctor had stitched up her head, but he wouldn’t have changed it for the world because it had shown him a side of Rena MacAllister he was sure very few had ever seen. The idea she’d allowed him to see her vulnerable side had made him rock hard despite the beating his conscience had given him.

  Lifting a piece of her loose hair, he brought it to his nose, smelling the unique scent of Rena and the peaches and cream shampoo she’d used late last night. The memory of freeing her hair from the long braids would be one of his favored memories, he thought as he rubbed the slightly coarse hair against his cheek. He’d freed each braid from their elastics with a small pocket knife, taken the wide tooth comb and slowly untangled them until her hair trailed over her shoulders in kinky waves. By the time he’d freed the last one, she’d been leaning heavily against him in exhaustion, and he’d had to help her into the shower. Which took all my considerable control to not join her in. Once she’d come back out, he’d dressed her tempting body in a nightgown he’d found in her top dresser drawer before tucking her into bed. Then looped up on painkillers, she pleaded with him to stay. Unable to resist her plea, he crawled in with her against his better judgment.

  And this is how I got into this mess with a warm armful of woman who I haven’t even fucked yet and a dick hard enough to pound nails. Releasing her hair, he dropped back onto the pillow, wanting to groan when her tantalizing scent clung to the fabric under his head. Closing his gritty eyes, he wondered if he’d be able to get a few hours of shut-eye before they had to get up. He tossed his arm over his eyes and was just drifting off when…

  BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

  Jerking upright, he rolled over to reach across Rena’s tempting body and slapped at the offending alarm on the bedside table, hoping against all that was sacred it hadn’t woken Rena. Today was Saturday and neither of them had to work until Monday. He cursed when he knocked the alarm off the stand and it fell to the floor, breaking into several pieces. The discordant sound as the clock gave up its last breath had him glancing down at Rena’s face as he held his weight off her with one arm. Please let her still be asleep. I don’t want to be kicked out of her bed yet. Dark amber eyes stared up at him sleepily, tempting him unbearably. Fuck…

  She rolled her head to glance at the broken alarm on the floor. “Hmmm, make a habit out of trashing alarms, White Boy?”

  Pushing away from her, he settled back against the pillows with a sigh. “You should’ve told me you’d set your alarm, ma peekôn. Only you’d think getting up at five-thirty in the morning on a Saturday is normal.”

  She yawned. “I forgot to shut it off.” As she rolled towards him, he wanted to groan. She was soft and warm as she snuggled up against his side, pushing all of his buttons in the process. It was all he could do to not lift her up until she was straddling his face or better yet his cock. The same cock that was making a tent out of the sheet draped over his waist. The thin covering, her nightgown and his self-control were all that was between him doing what he wanted. Then when she wiggled against his side once more, he acted without thought, slapping the outside of her leg. “Stop it, you little tease.” His voice sounded like gravel, so intense was his need.

  “Stop what?” Her voice was muffled as her breath teased his sternum. He nearly jumped out of his skin when her hand drifted down his stomach. He growled, capturing her wrist, halting her progress before she could reach under the sheet covering him.

  “Sir?” The question in her voice was evident. He knew she didn’t understand but until they had discussed her limits, he didn’t trust himself to be intimate with her. He had to know the boundaries before he slid inside of her. His tastes and desires were rough and after seeing the ass she’d submitted to before, he’d die before he hurt her again, even unintentionally.

  “We can’t. Not until we’ve talked, Rena.” He released her as she scrambled into a sitting position next to him, her dark hair tumbling around her face as she pouted. Her arms crossed over her breasts, framing the straining décolleté of her gown until he was ready to drool. The contrast of her dark creamy skin against the white linen batiste gown unbearably tempted his inner Dom.

  “You don’t want to…” Her eyes were bright with need or tears. He couldn’t tell which for sure as her chest rose and fell, distracting him.

  He licked his suddenly dry lips. “I didn’t say I don’t want you. I do. But we need to discuss your limits before we continue.” He touched her arm before tugging her close. Arranging her back where she had been, he stroked her hair. “We were going to talk last night but that idiot…”

  “You mean asshole.” She toyed with the sparse hair on his chest. “I’ll make this simple for you, Sir. I’m open to many things but there are a few I won’t ever agree to.”

  “Sharing is one of them, isn’t it?” He kept his tone neutral.

  He felt more than heard her sigh. “Yes. I know many Doms love to share their subs, or even have multiple subs themselves, but I don’t share well.”

  “What about voyeurism? Would you allow others to watch us? Or be agreeable to watching others?” His heart thumped heavily as he waited for his answer. The idea of others watching, of them seeing how lovely Rena was in her submission made him hot. He could live without it, but wanted more than anything to explore every avenue of pleasure with her.

  Her hand stilled for a moment before resuming the petting stroke across his chest. “You mean like at Olivia’s, or someone’s private play party?”

  He nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see him and forced a rough “yes” past his tight throat.

  She tugged lightly on a few hairs over his sternum before answering. “I think it’d be hot to have others watch us, or to please you while you watch another couple, Sir.”

  “Good.” He croaked as her finger
s trailed towards his nipple. Capturing her hand, he scolded her. “Bad little sub! Stop that! I can’t concentrate with your little fingers toying with me. So tell me what other hard limits you have.”

  There was a long pause. “I don’t do blood, golden showers, asphyxiation, or feathers.”

  Intrigued by her answer he tilted her chin up so he could see her expressive face. “I understand you not wanting blades in bed, me pissing on you or even choking you, but why on Earth would you have a limit about feathers?”

  Her eyes darted away from him. “A former Master liked to punish me with tickle torture when I was bad. So now if I even see a feather, I dry up faster than a spring shower in the Sahara Desert.”

  “Hmmm, then I guess my feather duster will have to go.” He nuzzled her head. “Anything else? Whips, canes, hair brushes, hot wax or ice?”

  He could see the heat build in her face, her cheeks flushing. “I…I’m open to them.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”

  She nibbled on her lower lip and he wondered if he’d misjudged her and she’d need more than he could give.

  “I had a Master ask once if I’m a true pain slut.” Her eyes searched his. “I’m not, but I do enjoy all of them if done in moderation.”

  Elation filled him. Her needs lined up nicely with his. He loved experimenting but didn’t have it in him to seriously harm her. “Good because if you wanted me to beat you, we’d have a serious problem.”

  She giggled before tweaking him. “Yes, we would because as soon as I healed, I’d come after your ass, and it wouldn’t be pretty.”

  He chuckled before rolling her under him. She gave a soft squeal as he settled on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. Using his hands, he wrapped hers around the spindles of the headboard. “Keep them there.”

  Her breath caught as she went limp beneath him, her body pliant. “Sir?”

  “What’s your safeword?” He knew the ritualistic question would tell her he wanted to scene; now he waited with baited breath.

  “Affero.” It came out breathlessly along with a shy smile.

  “Good, I expect you to use it if I push too hard.” Then he gave her a wicked smile. “We’re going to explore a little more of your limits, and you’ll have to tell me when I go too far.” He grasped the neckline of her gown and jerked hard, relishing the sound of ripping fabric. Instead of protesting as he’d expected, she moaned softly. It seemed his little peekôn liked the rougher stuff too. Taking a moment, he glanced down at the flesh he’d bared. A low grumble built in his chest as he took in the dark globes perched on top of her chest. Neither small nor large, they were perfect with their blackberry tips.

  When they tightened under his stare, he wondered if she’d allow him to use clamps on them. Rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, he watched as her head tipped back and a soft moan spilled from her parted lips. He squeezed a bit harder, judging her reaction to the increased pressure. “I want to see clamps hanging from these little beauties. Have you ever had weights hung from them?”

  “Hmmm.” She sounded distracted.

  Which isn’t going to fly. She’ll answer me. There’ll be no nonsensical replies between us. Leaning in, he lapped at one nipple before capturing it with his mouth, alternating between nipping and sucking at the peak. Wordless pleas began to spill from her lips, but he ignored them, in turn deciding that the other breast needed the same treatment. By the time he’d coaxed the other bud into stiffness then released it with a pop, he managed to lean up on his elbows to gauge her response. Her lips were parted and her eyes glassy from pleasure as her arms trembled from the tight grip she had on the headboard.

  “You care to answer me in the proper manner?”

  “Please, Sir…I…yes…I love weights on them…” She arched beneath his touch as he trailed a hand down the parted gown to slip over the mound of soft curls. He smiled as he encountered dampness.

  “Obviously – you’re soaked, slave. So wet.” He leaned forward to nip at the underside of one breast, loving how her breath hitched in her throat and she rocked up to meet his fingers. Tearing the gown down to the hem, he parted it, loving the way it framed her dark body. Splaying his free hand across her stomach, he couldn’t help but love the contrast of her dark skin against his tan. He took such a long time admiring her form, she shifted under his touch.

  “Sir?” The question in her tone didn’t shock him. He suspected she was a sub who needed to be taught patience.

  “Shh, let me look.” His eyes traced over the curves displayed before him. From her strong shoulders down to her softly round belly and beyond, she was put together in a way that would make any man think of hot sultry sex. As his cock throbbed between his thighs, he knew he was no exception. But first I’ll have a taste of that creaming treasure between her thighs. His taste buds tingled at the idea of lapping at her, flicking and rubbing all over her folds until she released against his mouth.

  A low rumble built in his chest as he slid down the bed between her thighs, hooking her knees over his shoulders as he settled. Giving her no warning, he dove face first into the musky heaven that composed her sex. Her startled scream was muffled by the clasp of her thighs against his ears. Growling, he pried her thighs back open. “Don’t make me tie you open, slave.” His bark seemed to sink in as her thighs relaxed against his hold. “I want to hear every sound you make. Do you understand?”

  Dark eyes closed before she answered. “Yes, Sir.”

  She whimpered as he resumed his feast, laving at her inner lips before sucking them deep inside his mouth. Releasing them with a slight pop, he spread her open to gaze down at the dark pink- almost vermillion flesh glistening in the early pre-dawn light. Gently shoving two fingers inside her little hole, he held her open, exposing her shiny little clit. “Don’t come, do you hear me, ma peekôn?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her response was thready, quickly turning into a high-pitched wail as he fastened his mouth over her, his tongue lashing at her nub. Around his fingers, her pussy clenched hard. Not the rhythmic pulse of her release, but the hard tug of a woman who wanted desperately to be fucked. “Please, Sir, fuck me!” Her babbling plea shredded what was left of his control. He should warm her butt for pushing him so easily.

  Easing up on her clit, he pulled his fingers part way out before shoving them back in just once. Above him she panted, her thighs shaking against his shoulders. “So close,” he crooned after giving her one last lingering lick. Scrambling to his knees between her spread thighs, he caught her gaze. “I can’t wait. Do I need protection?” He was on the edge and was ready to say screw it, but if she wanted him to stop for a condom, he’d persevere.

  Her lips parted as he took his cock in hand and rubbed it over her folds. “Oh, God, please, Sir. I need…” Her hips moved in time to his stroking. He gritted his teeth, jerking back causing his erection to slap against his stomach.

  “Yes, or no, Rena? Can I fuck you right now or do I need to get a condom?”

  “Draw…er.” She nodded to the stand. Leaning over, he jerked it open nearly dumping its contents to the floor. Grabbing an unopened box, he tore into it, scattering the contents across Rena and the rest of bed. Using his teeth to open the nearest foil packet, he rolled the sheath down his straining length. A low growl built in his throat as Rena met his eyes and actually giggled.

  “Find this funny, do you?” Without waiting for an answer, he grunted and gave a hard jerk of his hips, filling her with one swift thrust until his nuts rested against her ass. Liquid heat surrounded him, tugging at his cock until everything disappeared except for the need to fuck – to mark her as his. Grinding deep, he began rocking against her even as he stretched out over her, pinning her to the bed with her legs over his shoulders. Placing his hands over hers, he kept her arms in place as he pounded in and out of her. She cried out, her body tightening around him, warning of her eminent orgasm. “Not yet, baby. Wait for it.” He sounded hoarse but refused to ease up on her, want
ing to test her, to see how far he could push before she slid over the edge.

  Under his hands, he felt her struggling against his hold as he shifted, changing his angle so he was rubbing over new tissue, until the wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the room. Her screech of pleasure would’ve had him smiling if he hadn’t been so consumed with the idea of pushing her to her limits. “Don’t you come, slave. You’ll wait for me,” he panted, wanting to drop his head against her shoulder, but he didn’t. He had to see her expression as she came for him. He’d missed it in the darkened bathroom.

  “Sirrrrrr!” She jerked hard against him, once more trying to free her arms.

  “You come, and I’m going to paddle your ass, Rena.” Increasing his pace, Jackson grimaced as he tried to hold his own orgasm at bay while pushing her over the edge. Why he was torturing them both, he didn’t know, other than the fact he was a sadistic bastard.

  Freeing one hand, he reached between their bodies to rub over her clit, while watching her expression. As soon as his fingers found the slippery nubbin, she shook her head and screamed. “No! Sir…please don’t….I’ll…”

  “…don’t come.” But his command was too late. He hissed as the world melted around him - as his Nubian goddess exploded in an orgasm so intense he was helpless but to follow her over the edge. He groaned, cursing loudly as his body emptied inside hers, filling the condom until he was surprised it didn’t rupture. Pleasure buffeted him until his quivering arms finally gave out and he collapsed on top of her.

  He sighed as her hands finally left the headboard to run through his hair, cradling him against her slightly damp breasts. He relaxed against her after easing her legs down to rest along his torso. Contentment warred with tiredness until he slipped under. Just before he went, he heard her whisper ‘mine’ but was too tired to object to her claim even if he wanted to. Not that he would, she was his just as much as he was hers. This morning cemented their relationship. He wasn’t giving her up for anything.