Hearts and Diamonds

by Justine Elyot

  He moved one hand to the fastening of his suit trousers and Jenna hissed in panic.

  ‘We can’t. Not here.’

  ‘Why the fuck not? Who’s gonna know?’

  ‘These clothes – they’re the samples. They aren’t the ones we’re actually buying. We can’t . . . we should return them in the same condition they were given to us . . .’

  Jason sighed, then Jenna watched a slow smile dawn on his stormy face.

  ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Get on your knees, then.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do I have to raise my voice so Caro hears us? You heard.’

  Jenna stared at him, seeing that he continued with the unfastening of his new trousers.

  ‘You mean . . .?’

  He winked.

  ‘I think you know what I mean.’ He nodded sharply downwards. ‘Go on then. In front of the mirror.’

  Jenna laughed with disbelief, then, without thinking further, she sank down to her knees. The changing room was carpeted, which was a relief. From the corner of her eye she could see herself in profile in the mirror. Her nipples pointed towards Jason like arrows and the smooth curve of her bare bum in its black mesh surroundings was clearly visible.

  She put her hands on his thighs for purchase, bent forwards and found the tip of his cock with her lips. What a sight this was to see in the mirror. She couldn’t resist darting little glances over to it, enjoying the sight of herself looking whorish and sinful much more than she would ever have expected to.

  Jason’s hand in her hair made her sigh, her breath wafting over his erection.

  ‘Suck it,’ he whispered. ‘Go on. And watch yourself while you do it.’

  She watched his long, smooth length disappear inside her mouth then appear as a bulge in her cheek from time to time. She made her breasts jiggle and her nipples brush against his trousers, then pushed out her bottom extravagantly, fascinated by how outrageous she could make herself look. What a show she was putting on – for Jason and herself, but she imagined other people watching as well. What if Caro had CCTV?

  The thought startled her and she stopped sucking for a moment and took a quick eye tour of the ceiling corners.

  ‘What’s up? Keep at it,’ chided Jason.

  Reassured that there was no such hazard in the room, she went back to work. Imaginary watchers added to the thrill, but real ones . . . not so much.

  She lapped and sucked at him while he began to thrust gently into the back of her throat.

  ‘Call this a bra?’ he muttered, his voice low and guttural. The hand that wasn’t rooted in her hair came down to pat the side of her breast before seizing and twisting a nipple. Her cry choked in the back of her throat, consumed by his thrusting thickness.

  ‘You wore this because you want to be treated this way, didn’t you? It’s a cocksucker’s bra, and you suck cock like a pro, babe. A pro. Oh.’

  The final syllable was stretched out into a sudden urgent moan. Jenna waited for the burst of bitter liquid to hit the back of her throat. It came. She swallowed and made a deep purr of satisfaction at a job well done.

  Once he was licked clean and tucked back into his trousers, she tried to smooth down her disarranged hair. This was an easy task compared with trying to calm down the riot in her naughty knickers. Not fair, they seemed to protest. Why does he get his and you don’t?

  Sometimes that’s life, she said to herself. Besides, if they were to count up orgasms between them, she would be the outright winner. He always made sure she came at least twice in any single encounter, to his once. Perhaps it wasn’t so unfair.

  She removed the provocative garments and dressed again in her London-on-a-hot-day silk shirt and chinos. Were there any traces on her face of what her mouth had been doing? Not after she had reapplied lipstick and dabbed at her shiny forehead with a tissue. A spritz of watermelon-scented cologne finished the cover-up job. Fresh as a daisy once more. No sign of that filthy tart who’d been down on her knees with a man’s cock in her mouth, nipples and arse on full display to whomever might fancy getting a good eyeful of them.

  Which of those women was the real Jenna?

  She couldn’t work it out.

  ‘So we’re buying the lot then?’ said Jason laconically, leaning on the door and watching her transform into Business Jenna once more.

  ‘I think so,’ she said. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘What do you think? We should come here again. At least, it would be “again” for me.’ He smirked.

  ‘You’re awful,’ she said perfunctorily, turning from the mirror and heading for the door, sample underwear in hand.

  ‘You aren’t,’ he said, taking hold of her shoulder and stilling her for a long, tongue-heavy kiss. ‘You’re fucking awesome.’

  ‘I try my best.’

  They paid for their purchases, Jenna doing her utmost to look Caro in the eye and give the impression of a woman who hadn’t just performed a blow job in a sex shop back room. It seemed to work. Caro remained her discreetly professional self and expressed a hope they might return as they made for the door with their boxes and bags.

  ‘You ever thought of opening a shop outside London?’ Jason asked Caro, turning at the door.

  Jenna huffed, wanting to be out of the place now, but she waited.

  ‘Well, I don’t know, it’s something we might consider if the right place becomes available. Perhaps Bath or Edinburgh.’

  ‘Nah, they’re not the right place. Think about Bledburn.’ He tapped his nose. ‘It’s up and coming, you know.’

  Jenna grabbed his wrist and manhandled him through the door.

  ‘You idiot,’ she said. ‘As if she’s even heard of Bledburn.’

  ‘If she hasn’t now, she soon will,’ he said. ‘After our show.’

  Jenna began to hurry along the street, keen to reach the safe and shaded sanctuary of the hotel before anyone pointed at her.

  Once they were in the marble lobby, she turned to Jason and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘So you’re keen on the idea now?’ she said. ‘You’re happy to bring yourself to the world?’

  ‘Yeah, why not?’ he said laconically. ‘Seems a shame to deprive the world of me.’

  ‘What’s changed your mind? You were so . . . guarded before.’

  ‘I know you believed in me, but that gallery woman must know good stuff when she sees it. If she thinks I can cut the mustard, well.’

  ‘Yes.’ Jenna felt a hard stone of anxiety crumble at the base of her stomach. ‘Yes, she knows exactly what she’s talking about. And she feels the same way about you I do.’

  Jason bent his lips to her ear at that.

  ‘Really?’ he murmured. ‘Exactly the same?’

  ‘Not that,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

  ‘Stupid, am I? You don’t think your posh mate would go down on me in a sex shop then?’

  ‘Shut up!’

  ‘You’re pushing your luck, madam,’ he said, still pouring low, gravelly words into her ear. ‘Don’t forget what I’ve got in these bags.’ He held up the shiny carriers that could have come from Harvey Nichols or any expensive boutique.

  The shop’s name was scrawled across in a stylish black font, surrounded by entwined hearts and roses.

  ‘Don’t go tipping it out all over the floor,’ she begged in an agonised whisper. ‘Come on. I’m going for the lift before you do something that makes tomorrow’s Daily Mail.’

  They attracted plenty of attention as they strode across the shiny, sparkly floor to the lifts. Jason in a sharp suit was a feast for the eyes, and Jenna noticed how the female – and many of the male – guests checked him out as they passed. They almost ignored her, in fact, which she found amusing and also a little alarming.

  She quelled a brattish urge to call ‘Don’t you know who I am?’, putting her energies into calling the elevator instead.

  Once safely inside, and having jettisoned three other guests at lower floors than their own penthouse, Jaso
n held the bags out to Jenna.

  ‘So, Ms Myatt,’ he said. ‘Which one of these are you going to play with first?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, all that back there in the shop was very nice for me. But you didn’t get no satisfaction, did you? I think we ought to sort you out. Fair’s fair.’

  Jenna saw her cheeks flame red in the mirrored wall behind Jason.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Everyone fancies you in that suit. Did you notice?’

  ‘Do they?’ he said, and she was touched by his lack of vanity. ‘I wasn’t looking. Too busy watching your arse.’

  ‘They were jealous of me.’

  ‘They’d have good cause, if they knew what you were about to get.’

  The lift stopped and the doors slid open.

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Jason, with a filthy wink. ‘Chop chop.’ He patted her bottom, chivvying her out on to the top floor.

  Once in the suite, Jason handed her the bags.

  ‘Go and get changed, then. Your choice. I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.’

  ‘OK,’ said Jenna, infected by his lustful enthusiasm. ‘Oh – and Jason.’

  ‘Mm hmm?’

  ‘Keep the suit on.’

  ‘Deal.’

  In the bathroom, Jenna unwrapped the precious articles from their pale tissue paper and tried to decide what kind of mood she was in. Playful pastels or serious PVC kink? As she rummaged, she found something they hadn’t tried on in the store – the exquisite ribbon-tied gauntlets that matched the lilac and peach set. This made up her mind for her, and she put on the bra with its bows over the nipples, and the knickers that sheared away to nothing behind before tying on the sweet silken cuffs at each wrist.

  Posing in the mirror, she was happy with what she saw, although she must remember to call in on Luca, her London hairstylist, before they went back to Bledburn. There was a glow about her that owed nothing to any hi-tech foundation or skin polish. Her eyes were bright and dewy in a way that reminded her of her teenage photographs.

  ‘Forever and ever?’ She mouthed the words at the mirror, then put her hand over her face.

  She removed it and gave herself a stern glare.

  ‘You’re getting swept away,’ she said. ‘Don’t question it. Don’t put a label on it. Just enjoy yourself.’

  She thrust out her chest, making the ribbon bows strain over her nipples, then turned around to admire her back view, the double elastic straps crossing her bottom cheeks in cheeky diagonals that described a V shape with the base right between her legs.

  Then she held out her wrists in a pose of mock surrender.

  ‘Tie me, tease me,’ she whispered.

  She had no doubt that Jason would oblige.

  He had been lying on the bed, casting lazy eyes at the canopy above, but he shot up into a sitting position when he saw her.

  For a few moments, he said nothing, just sat there with a slack jaw.

  ‘Will I do?’ she said, holding out her cuffed wrists towards him.

  ‘Come here,’ he growled in reply, reaching for her.

  When he was able to snatch her fingertips, he pulled her roughly on the bed, having her fall in a heap on his lap.

  Long minutes of grappling, wrestling and snogging ensued, rumpling the bed far beyond its original impeccable neatness. Jenna felt herself coveted, immobilised and arm-locked into helplessness until she lay caught up in Jason’s body, feeling the deliciously expensive fabric of his suit all over her bare skin.

  ‘Did you want something?’ she whispered pertly, once his tongue was back in his own mouth.

  ‘You fucking bet I do,’ he said. ‘Thought you’d drained me dry in the shop but . . .’ He thrust his hips, making her feel the steel of his erection. ‘Apparently not.’

  Ah, the advantages of taking a younger lover, thought Jenna. Plenty of encores.

  ‘I’m just wondering which of the hundreds of possible ways I want to have you,’ he said. ‘On your front, on your back, on your knees, against the wall . . . the list goes on.’ He kissed her again, scouring the inside of her mouth with his roving tongue. ‘But I think . . .’

  He disentangled himself from her and rolled her on to her front, swiftly tying the two sets of ribbons on her cuffs together, then looping them around a bar on the wrought-iron headboard. She lay on her belly, arms above her head, able to move her legs, but not to any real purpose as she was tethered in place.

  Jason, behind her, put an arm beneath her and lifted her on to all fours. With her wrists tied low, she had to keep her head down. She could picture herself, with her bottom jutting out in its tight elastic strapping and her spine sloping down. Jason pulled her legs well apart until she felt her lower lips divide and open, the tiny strip of peach silk that called itself a gusset slipping inside.

  ‘Mm,’ he said, running his fingertips up and down her inner thighs. ‘So you want me to keep my suit on? Why’s that then?’

  ‘Because you make my mouth water in it,’ she said. ‘You make me want to pin you down and ride you until you pass out.’

  ‘But I’m not the one that’s pinned down here,’ he said. ‘That would be you.’

  Without warning, he held her by her thighs and swooped down to push and probe his tongue inside her spread pussy lips. She quivered and yelped with shock, but soon sighed into the melting delight of it.

  She had to accept it; she was tied and at his mercy. There was nothing for it but to let him do his worst. His worst seemed a lot like his best from this position. The slight sandpaperiness of his chin and cheeks stimulated her tender skin and she craved more of it, wanting to luxuriate in that friction. He buried his face deeper while she tried to push back, giving herself to him as if she were the gift of an exotic feast.

  He was certainly eager to sample her, flicking his tongue back and forth over her clitoris until she was on the very edge of crying out, then withdrawing and pushing his fingers inside her instead.

  In the meantime, his mouth was busy on her bottom, delivering luscious, sucking kisses to her soft round curves. Her sensitised skin could hardly bear all the intermingling sensations, especially when his free hand crept up her belly and untied the little ribbons that covered her nipples. Now they were free to be rubbed and pinched, along with everything else that was happening. Her senses swirled into mindlessness. All that mattered was the building of her climax.

  And it was coming – it was coming faster and faster, threatening to overwhelm her from the inside out.

  It was so close, it was there . . . And then it wasn’t.

  Jason removed his hands and his mouth and gave her one loud smack on her rump, waiting for her moan of protest to end before saying, ‘Thought I’d make it that easy for you, did you? I don’t think so, sweetheart. I want to get every penny of value out of your new gear.’

  The next thing Jenna knew, Jason was lying with his head between her legs, looking up into the soaked strip of silk. He inhaled deeply, as if breathing her in, but he didn’t touch her. All he did was let out his breath slowly, so that it fanned her pussy lips and clit, all of which would have begged for his attention if only they could.

  She made a sobbing sound, hoping it would make him take pity, but he didn’t.

  ‘Keep still,’ he said, when she tried to lower herself towards his face.

  She huffed and tried again, but her reward was another sound smack to her bottom, so she decided to do as she was told.

  ‘Please,’ she whispered instead.

  Another slow, warm breath circulated around her private parts.

  Jason’s arms came up underneath her, his hands finding her nipples once more. He pattered his fingertips lightly on their swollen tips, then stroked, keeping up his slow, concentrated breathing between her thighs. It was so slight and yet so horribly arousing that she bucked again. Mistake. He left her nipples and brought his open palm down on her bottom again and again, six hard spanks this time.

  ‘Keep. Still,’ he said,
accompanying the order with two more percussive slaps.

  ‘How long?’ she wailed.

  ‘How long what? How long is a piece of string?’

  ‘Nooo. How long do I have to wait for . . .?’

  ‘For this?’ He put his hands on her hips and lifted his face quickly to her lower lips, pushing his tongue inside her knickers for a deep, full stroke of her clitoris.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, whimpering with disappointment when he dropped his head back down to the bed.

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. I like you like this, all quivery and wet and desperate and tied up. Oh! I know.’

  He shuffled himself quickly off the bed, to Jenna’s considerable anguish. She couldn’t see what he was doing, her cheek pressed to the duvet, but she could hear the rustle of bags and tissue paper and she thought he must be getting the other underwear set out, for some reason. Or . . . oh no. The other thing.

  ‘Time for some artwork,’ he crowed.

  ‘Not too hard,’ she said hurriedly.

  ‘Oh, not in the mood?’ He paused, putting a hand on her bottom with what seemed to her like hesitation.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ she said. ‘Just . . . not too hard. That’s all.’

  ‘I want to see the picture it makes.’

  ‘So do I. Hard enough for that, then. But my skin feels sensitive and I’m not sure how much I can take.’

  ‘That’s OK, babe. Just let me know when enough’s enough.’

  ‘I will.’

  Perhaps this exchange affected Jason’s confidence because the first stroke was a mere whisper, a sweet little brush that didn’t even snap.

  ‘Oh, it tickles,’ she said, wriggling so she strained in her ribbon tethers.

  ‘I think I’d have to do it harder,’ he said apologetically. ‘To make a mark.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ she said, suddenly brave. ‘Go for it.’

  This was followed by a much more jarring blow, causing her to lurch forward and suck in a breath.

  ‘You did say,’ reproached Jason. ‘Are you OK? Ooh, that looks good.’

  ‘Is it pretty?’ she gasped.