JennasConsent

by Jennifer Kacey

  Every inch of skin that touched him lit up in thanksgiving.

  He was what she wanted, what she needed to feel whole.

  He was everything and she couldn’t tell him no. “Please…” she whispered from her parched mouth as if it were an oath and a prayer—her promise to give him everything.

  The rough pads of his fingertips moved lower on her stomach. He forced his hand between her and the bed, below the partially combined weight of both of them. He tugged the lips of her sex open, exposing the bundle of nerves perched at the top. Her clit pulsed at his touch and she cried out as he rubbed her wetness around the nerve-laden button.

  She tugged against the rope tying her wrists and cursed in frustration—and arousal. She’d waited for him to be there again, to take the control away from her. To peel the corset from her chest and lay her bare and open before him, ready to take whatever he needed to give her.

  Goosebumps raced down her legs as he ground into her tight cunt and she wrapped her feet over his calves.

  “Fucking drenched the bed. Damn, I love how wet you get when I touch you, when I tie you. You don’t get this wet for anyone else do you?”

  His voice wasn’t accusatory, just cocky, but he demanded an answer nonetheless.

  Will he leave me with nothing to find my way back when he disappears again?

  She hesitated but only for enough time to concentrate on the words she had no choice but to reveal. “Rarely. Only when I self-tie. Only when I’m alone, in your rope, thinking of you.”

  “Good girl.”

  Emotion clogged her throat. How could two words shred whatever protection was left around her heart? They ripped her open, exposing her as the shell of the woman she’d become.

  His whispered words taunted her and everything she’d tried to deny since he’d left appeared before her. “Only I can give you this. No one else will ever compare to what I do for your body. And your rope? No one’s pushed you to get better like I did. No one can work side by side with you until you can tie in your sleep.

  “We’re made for each other. Always were. Always will be. No amount of time will change that. The jackass who wants you? The one who thinks he can make you submit? Fucking amateur compared to me.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I—”

  He thrust inside, shoving in to the depth of her sex, overfilling her pussy to the point of pain.

  He cut off the rest of her words and she shrieked. “Don’t. Lie. Not to me.”

  Slowly he withdrew a few inches and she sucked in a sharp breath, trying desperately to reclaim her focus…but she faltered.

  Nick.

  His face danced behind her eyelids even as Ian’s cock fucked into her with the sole purpose of using her to get off. “What if” stomped across her mind for a brief second but the reality of what Ian would allow ruined everything before she even had a chance to think it.

  Ian nipped her ear and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep him out of her thoughts but he barreled right through, just as he always did.

  “He’ll never be able to love you enough to erase me. He’ll never be the kind of Owner you need him to be. He’ll never be the perfect fit because he won’t be me. You’re mine, Jenna. Mine.”

  His words, they were her deepest fears and largest wishes verbalized. Each once slicing clean through just like his knife could have. But she didn’t bleed when the weapon sunk in. She’d have no scar to show for her battle the next day.

  At least none that anyone else could see.

  Nothing she’d be able to touch or feel or remind herself she was still whole inside her body.

  She couldn’t refute Ian, couldn’t tell him he was wrong, especially since she’d put Nick off for months, coming up with enough excuses to fill several books for why she couldn’t date him. Nor fuck him, nor submit to him, nor wear his collar. She thought of the half-mask she wore when she tied and her pussy squeezed him. He growled into the flesh of her neck.

  “That’s right.” He picked up speed, rubbing her clit in tight circles, favoring her left side, just how she liked it. He adjusted his weight over her body and clamped his free hand over her mouth and nose but this time it wasn’t to keep her quiet, it was to control her ability to breathe.

  Electricity shot through her veins.

  Breath play fucking rocked her world.

  There weren’t many things that called to her the way breath play did. It was the ultimate way of controlling her very ability to live. It was an edge she’d danced with before Ian but with him…

  Fuck.

  He relaxed his hand and she inhaled quickly before he clamped it off again. His hips moved, jack-hammering into her, fast approaching the point of no return.

  She still remembered how he fucked her right before he came.

  His fingers pressed harder on her clit to get her to where she needed to be.

  He let her have a tiny breath and cut it off in the middle, whispering, “I’m gonna come in your pussy. I’m gonna fill it up with my cum so you’ll remember whose girl you are. So you remember who you are. Come with me. Come. Now.”

  A violent surge of adrenaline laced her bloodstream. He gave her an order and she could do nothing but obey.

  Her pussy locked down on his thick cock and her orgasm detonated deep inside her where no one could touch her. No one could take him from her ever again.

  Not even him.

  She bucked beneath him, fighting the sensations that threatened to swamp her. Needing to breathe and wanting it to never end fought a battle inside her.

  He released her mouth and she sucked in a giant lungful of air.

  “Fuck,” wheezed out of him as he buried himself inside her and bit her shoulder.

  Her eyes snapped open as light streamed in her bedroom window and she sat straight up in bed.

  Her pussy spasmed as she moved and she gritted her teeth, twitching through the last throes of an intense orgasm.

  Sweat covered her body, the comforter was twisted around her legs and she must have kicked the covers off the bed sometime in the middle of the night. She blew wisps of hair out of her face and clutched her T-shirt in a tight fist. She stared at it for a second, tilting her head to the side trying to figure out how it had gotten off the floor.

  She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, realizing she was alone.

  Ian.

  Her time with him slapped her in the back of the head and dunked the rest of her in ice-cold water.

  She flung her shirt across her bed as she touched her wrists, feeling for telltale signs of rope.

  Nothing.

  She ran her fingertips over her shoulders, searching for teeth marks.

  Just…nothing.

  She kicked the rest of the covers off, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Opening the drawer of her nightstand hadn’t ever seemed so difficult but she accomplished it. She peeked inside and there it all sat. Her pile of jute, coiled in pristine little bundles. It hadn’t been touched since she’d put it away two nights before. She slammed the drawer closed, making her lamp fall over.

  She fell back on the bed, leaving her legs dangling off. Staring at the ceiling didn’t help her with the realization that Ian wasn’t there.

  He’d never been there.

  He hadn’t found her or come to find her or snuck into her house so he could claim her again.

  He wasn’t ever coming back. She knew it. At least ninety-nine-point-nine percent of her knew it but it was that last tenth of a percent that kept her from moving on.

  “It’s getting worse.” She said it into the room as if she needed the helpful reminder.

  It had been too long since she submitted. Almost a year since she’d been on her knees for anyone she actually considered worth her submission.

  When she went that long, ignoring her true nature that completely, the dreams came for her. They plagued her all night long, tricking her mind into thinking her salvation had arrived.

  But he was nothing
but an addiction.

  For the years since Ian had thrown her out that was how it had been for her. When they were together he was her dealer. Got her so addicted to the high of submitting to him and then…nothing. They didn’t make rehab for her drug of choice.

  So all she could do was abstain for as long as she could. Until the dreams and the cravings to be on her knees were like a living, breathing fire inside her chest.

  But the problem was when she finally broke down and found someone to submit to, it was like that song about having wine after whiskey.

  Everything paled in comparison to what she had with Ian. He was her first and only Owner. The only man she’d ever agreed to wear his collar with.

  So wonderful…until that last night together.

  He had asked what she wanted. What she fantasized about. “Anything,” he’d told her. “No matter what it is, just tell me and we’ll make it happen.”

  “A ménage.” The two words that had changed everything.

  That’s what she dreamt about. What she wanted more than anything to experience. To be so completely overwhelmed with sensation that the world—past and present and future—completely disappeared.

  No worries, no fears, no expectations beyond that perfect moment in time between three people.

  He’d left her that night after an intense scene. He hadn’t spoken a word to her after she’d admitted what she wanted. He’d fucked her. Played her hard and then fucked her again. Had nearly choked her out at the very end before he’d come.

  It had been scary and wonderful. He flipped a switch inside her she’d never fully been able to turn off.

  Then he just got dressed and walked out.

  She’d fallen asleep, thinking he was just going to get some water or take a shower or smoke a cigarette, something other than just abandoning her after wrecking her like he did.

  Sub drop had been unreal the next day. For someone that hadn’t ever really dropped before, it felt as if the world would end on every breath. On every tear. As if he had carried her gently up the side of the mountain, wrapped up and protected with his big body and then flung her off the top without a single word of explanation. He’d never called her again. Didn’t return her messages or emails.

  Several weeks later when she’d finally gotten the nerve up to go back to his apartment, he’d moved.

  The marks from that night faded years ago. The welts on her ass from his cane disappeared, leaving nothing but flawless skin underneath but her memories remained fresh.

  Scenes scraped across her mind when she fell asleep at night. They clawed at the momentary peace she found in rope as soon as she untied herself and put it all away. She couldn’t forget his touch. His attention. They remained nearby, taunting her. Feeding her soul at night when her conscious mind couldn’t fight her need for him.

  Her love.

  His hate.

  When he’d tossed her away she’d felt like an orphan. Ever since she’d been that empty shell, trying to find what would fill her up once more. Certain things helped. Helping other submissives at The Library find their wings. It lightened her soul.

  But inside she was naked and cold, shivering and unable to get warm.

  She covered it well.

  The corsets she wore were sexy, beautiful and desirable. She’d admit they were even a fetish of hers. They made her feel powerful and feminine. Pretty.

  And they served a purpose. They kept people focused on her assets, distracting them from digging too deep.

  Each of the steel-boned garments were her protection. Her coat of arms. They kept everyone at arm’s length.

  It had worked up to a point.

  No one had gotten to her but…

  Her own little private masochist coughed up an image of Nick hovering above her prone body. Deep inside, plunging inside her. Her core liquefied.

  Her fingers found their way to her sex-starved pussy, slipping inside and she whimpered at the heat emanating from inside her.

  “One more time and I’ll have it under control. Just one…more…”

  Chapter Two

  “Run that by me again…”

  Yeah, she decided it was worth it just to see Mr. Cool Calm & Collected flounder for a few seconds while he tried to reboot his brain to process her out-of-the-blue answer. His usual smirk reappeared before she could speak.

  “You heard me, Casanova.” His gray eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched at the taunt.

  He hated the nickname and it made the sting of giving in a little bit easier to swallow. Her pride was going to undoubtedly suffer but she decided to go down swinging.

  She’d put on her turquoise corset with floral panels, highlighting her small waist and large chest. And she’d paired it with a cream tutu, fishnet stockings and a pair of high heels most drag queens would be jealous of.

  Whoever said that power came in a pair of stilettos was definitely a woman.

  “I said yes. You’ve been asking me the same question for months so surely you haven’t forgotten the request yet?”

  For a moment longer he stood a few steps away, posture relaxed. Anyone else who cared to look at them across the bar probably saw what he wanted them to see. The unruffled, self-possessed manner that he always exuded with ease. But she saw the darkness he thought no one else noticed.

  Thankfully, the regulars probably thought they were having a normal conversation. It wouldn’t be abnormal, since they were both employees. Well, two employees in the private bar of The Library, a private BDSM club in Arcadia, Kansas.

  Their conversation was as far from normal as most vanilla people could get and he was as far from calm as she’d ever seen him in public.

  His ghostly eyes seemed to scan the room. He probably saw the long bar with stools on one side, the mass of tables in the middle and the booths around the far wall. He nodded to someone who she didn’t know and then the distance between them disappeared as he stepped closer. His body heat enveloped her and the tips of her breasts tingled as his muscled pectorals brushed against them.

  Submission wasn’t just something she played at occasionally. It was who she was inside and out. Eye contact was a thing of the past as he towered over her and she automatically lowered her gaze. She knew what was expected of her and she knew how to please a dominant man.

  “Look at me.” The directive snapped her to attention as she locked onto his face once again. Her heart kicked into overdrive. His black hair and tanned skin highlighted his intense gaze. She clenched her hands together behind her back, automatically straightening her posture and restraining herself from touching him without permission.

  “You aren’t going to hide from me in this, Jenna. Let’s be one hundred percent clear. What exactly are you saying yes to?”

  He was normally a pretty fun-loving guy but dominance rolled off him in waves and damn if that didn’t make her knees shake in a none-too-familiar way.

  “I’ll agree to be your submissive and accept you as my Dom for one night. I will give full control over to you and will obey you to the best of my ability.”

  “Why?”

  Of all the nosy…

  Most guys would just say “Hot Damn” and tell her to get naked. She had to pick the one guy that needed a reason behind it. ”What do you mean why, Nick? You’ve been hounding me for months, telling me that you want to play. So, I’m agreeing.” Honestly a night of no-holds-barred sex with a dark-skinned, dark-haired, muscled ex-MMA fighter just didn’t sound all that bad. It wasn’t like either of them was looking for a relationship. He just wanted to take the edge off and she knew the club subs just weren’t giving him what he needed. He was a bit more hardcore and held back. That wouldn’t be a problem with her. She could take anything he dished out and if she could get over her stupid hang-up on Ian McIntire in the process, then all the better. Nick just didn’t need to know anything about that part.

  Oscar, the bartender tonight and her best guy friend, sidled closer to the end of the bar they stood by. He wiped the cou
nter down, as if anyone believed he wasn’t just trying to hear what they were talking about. She almost rolled her eyes.

  “A month,” Nick countered.

  Her heart thudded one last time in her chest before it ground to a resounding halt.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” He threw her words back at her and she couldn’t even think enough for a snappy comeback. “You think I'm gonna lick that sweet pussy once and fuck you for a few hours and have my fill? Not to mention the punishment you just earned for lying to me about why you finally said yes. A month, Jenna…minimum.”

  She glanced over at Oscar, whose mouth hung open. He mouthed “Oh, snap,” before turning to help another member.

  How in the hell had she missed the fact that Nick was way more astute than she’d given him credit for?

  “It’s all in the eyes, my sweet.” Damn, was he a mindreader now, too? “It’s why for our time together I don’t want the normal subservient pose with your eyes cast downward. I want them trained on me in all things. I want you to know exactly who owns you for our time together. Who smells the sweet arousal coming from between your legs, who brings you to orgasm every night and who knows when you’re lying with your mouth as well as your body.”

  “But I…”

  “Are you going for two punishments?”

  She straight up didn’t know what to say, so the simplest apology seemed the easiest route before she figured out how to handle it better. Him better. “No, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

  “Good.”

  He leaned down and the tantalizing five-o’clock shadow he normally sported brushed against the upper curve of her breast. Her tits were pillowed high from the bright colorful corset she wore. A moan she didn’t know she’d choked off slithered free as he worked his way up her neck and across her cheek to her ear.

  “A month,” he whispered and then sucked her earlobe into his mouth. He nibbled on it, blew warm air across it and then backed away with a purr from his deep voice. “I’m going to play with you, learn you and pleasure you beyond your best and worst imaginings. Say yes, Jenna. Don’t overanalyze it. Just…say yes.”