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Blaine, Destiny - Domination Plantation [Southern Plantation 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

Page 6

by Destiny Blaine


  “I’m falling for you.”

  She jerked to attention. Her hands and feet plopped into the water, provoking a sudden splash. “Oh my God, get out of here, Jules!” She sank underneath the bubbles. She swallowed a few times, noting the intense look of male determination creeping across his face.

  “Oh come on, Jenna. What’s with the modesty?” he asked, securing the bathroom door behind him.

  “I just heard Brogan and Serena leave. You can’t be in here.”

  She blinked. He’s falling for me? Had she heard him correctly?

  He unbuttoned his shirt. His eyes fixated on hers.

  “No, you don’t understand. I mean, you can’t be here with me. Not like this. Don’t you know?”

  “I understand what I need to know. The rest doesn’t matter. I still want you.”

  “You can’t have me,” Jenna wailed. “Serena would—”

  “Understand. Do you think she left with Brogan by accident? She told me you were up here soaking before they headed out for nail polish.”

  Serena traveled with every acrylic color salons had ever sold. She could stock a nail salon.

  “I still need you to go, Jules.”

  “You aren’t attracted to me?” he asked, dropping his shirt to the floor.

  “It’s not about whether or not there’s chemistry between us.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Jenna sat straighter, erect enough to expose some cleavage as her breasts rose and fell above the layers of bubble bath foam. “I’m not like those women who frequent your parties.”

  “What do you know about those gals, or our get-togethers?”

  “Oh come on, Jules. Give me some credit. Serena and I have talked. Fiona warned me, too. If I had any doubts, they were put to rest after Miss What’s-her-face brought you a midnight snack in the suggestive form of boobs and bottoms.”

  Jules laughed, sat next to the tub, and dipped his hand in the water. He only skimmed his fingers over the top, but he sure looked sexy dragging his hand through a trail of bubbles. God help her. She was incredibly infatuated with one hell of a man.

  “I wasn’t hungry for anything Marcy Mahoney had to offer. Trust me, if I’m going to nibble”—his arm disappeared and he wrapped his hand around her calf—“I’ll start right here with you.”

  Pulling her lower leg out of the water, he kissed her ankle. The bubbles glistened on his lips, forming a soft white mustache under his nose. His kiss sent several sensations down her spine. Her nipples spiked and her pussy clenched.

  She watched in awe as he massaged her sprained ankle. She flinched a few times as he tenderly rubbed the swollen area, but she began to appreciate the effort and the pain diminished under his careful caresses.

  “Let me join you,” he whispered. “Let me show you how much I want you.”

  “Jules, we just met.”

  “Darlin’, we must’ve known one another in a past life. The feelings I get when we’re together are too strong. I can’t fight ’em. Can you?”

  Not unless he backed the hell off and he wasn’t giving the impression that he might. “Thank you for massaging my ankle. It feels good as new.” She rotated it once for show.

  Jules, probably suspecting she was ready to dismiss him, changed his approach. His arm sank deeper into the water and he inched forward. She didn’t lock gazes with him, to do so now would only provoke him. Instead, she stared at the water, wondering where he might touch her when his hand met her flesh again.

  His open palm landed against her leg, right above her knee, and he slowly lifted his gaze. When she looked into his eyes, it was a mistake. Her eyes must’ve invited him.

  His fingers trailed up her inner thigh and she gasped when she felt his fingers right above her pussy. He wiggled three digits near her folds, just enough to let her know where he lingered, what he planned to explore.

  “Spread your legs,” he rasped. “Don’t be afraid, Jenna.”

  Without the will to stop, Jenna parted her trembling thighs. A moan slipped from her dry mouth.

  “That’s my girl,” he crooned, dragging a finger up and down one of her intimate lips.

  She wondered if he’d said those very words to the woman who’d attended his party the night before. Had they been intimate in the past? Was she a frequent guest in his home, in his bed?

  Jenna shivered as she watched him. She only had minimal experience to her credit, but she was aware of her growing lust, of the rising female hunger. Curiosity and desire fueled an unexpected perpetual longing.

  His touch set her pussy on fire. Jules Evans knew how to send a woman up in flames.

  With the ball of his hand, he massaged her pelvic area. “Sweet fuckin’ hell. You’re shaved?”

  She snapped her legs together, suddenly embarrassed.

  “It’s all right,” he reassured her. “I won’t ask you to stand up and show me.”

  “Jules, this isn’t a good idea,” she said, her eyes watering.

  “Is that what you really believe?” he asked gently, prying her legs apart as he studied her face.

  “No,” she finally said, releasing her locked knees.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said, sliding a firm digit through her folds.

  He penetrated her with the tip of his finger. Sighing as if he thought the simple act of touching her vagina was satin pleasure, Jules added another finger and then another. Thrusting his hand forward, he finger-fucked her with precision.

  She watched him as he led her to the brink of indulgence, tapping and searching for just the right spot.

  “Jules,” she whispered, her hands falling against the tub. She gripped the sides, anchoring her body as she prepared for an uplifting experience, a new chapter in an innocent woman’s life.

  The dizzy feeling consumed her. She felt like she’d died and gone to a holding zone, the kind of place where sins were tallied right before final decisions sealed future deals, those that changed lives, for better or for worse.

  Jules stroked his lips with his tongue. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

  “Please,” she whispered, lifting her body above the surface as if in an attempt to provoke the promise, hold a man to his word.

  And that’s pretty much where the seduction ended with the sudden slam of a heavy door.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brogan asked, entering the bathroom with Serena beside him. When he realized where Jules’s hands were, he stopped in the doorway and grabbed Serena by the shoulders. “Out you go,” he remarked, guiding her back the same way they’d entered.

  “Wait!” she protested.

  “Not on your life. Move, Serena!” Brogan pushed her out and Jenna sank underwater.

  Jules reached for her, dragging her by the arm and pulling her back up for a breath of air. They stared at one another when she reappeared covered in bubbles and embarrassment.

  “Brogan, can you give the lady a minute?” Jules snapped, turning his head slightly when Brogan returned.

  “No, I can’t. You can, though. Take a hike.”

  “Brogan—”

  “Now works for me. How about you?”

  Jules smirked, rising from his knelt position. “You really are something else.”

  “It’s my tub. My room. Out you go,” Brogan said, directing him to the door.

  With the rapid onset of a set jaw and clenching teeth, Jules acted as if he didn’t trust Brogan enough to leave him alone with her. He whispered something under his breath in passing and left the room.

  Jenna was beginning to see a premeditated arrangement of sorts. Brogan was only gone long enough to give Jules the opportunity to start something he couldn’t finish.

  Before Jenna and Jules had the chance to take advantage of their newfound privacy, Brogan and Serena returned. Then, in the midst of erotic beginnings, Brogan asked Jules to leave and Jules, for whatever reason, obliged.

  After witnessing the knowing glances between brothers, Jenna should’ve been afraid.
Instead, their exchange made her curious and she was all the more aroused, turned on more so than before!

  Maybe Jenna should’ve questioned their tactics, but instead she found herself willing and eager to play along.

  Jules had fingered her. Without kissing her or really even groping her, Jules had seduced her. Now, she found herself wishing Brogan would do the same.

  “Brogan, I can explain,” she said, fidgeting.

  “I doubt it,” he said, approaching the bathtub.

  “Is Serena still out there?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then I’ll give you a warning,” she sang, the play back in her voice, the game returning to her attitude. “She most likely has her ear mashed against the door.”

  “Then she’s gonna have a whole lot of questions for you later. Get ready for ’em.”

  He sat down on the tile encasing the sunken tub. “What are you doing here, Jenna?”

  “I was trying to take a bath and soak my foot. Serena said it was all right to use your Jacuzzi. If it was an imposition, then I won’t do it again.”

  “It wasn’t,” he snapped. “Thing is, Jules and I have wanted you right here since the moment you first arrived, but you already guessed as much. Didn’t you?”

  Brogan’s voice resounded with a hardened edge thick in his tone. If Jenna spared a guess, she’d place a bet on Brogan being the kind of man a woman couldn’t possibly tame. He possessed a haunting demeanor, and his dark side frightened her.

  “Do you know what we do to our women, Jenna?” he asked.

  “No, but I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You should be. If you only knew what I wanted to do to you now, you would be.”

  She gulped as his jaw tensed. His hooded eyes darkened.

  “If I strip off and climb in that tub with you, I won’t care if you’re a virgin, Jenna. All I’ll care about is teaching you how to please a man and submit to a Dom waiting to become your Master.”

  “I’m cold. The water is chilly now,” she said, standing up and hurriedly reaching for a towel.

  “You’re in luck. I’m here now, and I plan to warm you right up.”

  Chapter Five

  The bubbles covering her were worthy of a cussing. They clung to her in strategic places, preventing a good view of her round little nipples and pretty slick pussy. He’d pierce those nipples, and maybe even her clit, if she didn’t behave, and Jenna wasn’t going to mind him. He’d wager a good steer on that assumption, one he’d rope and tie the same way he planned to bound and tie her.

  “Come here,” he said in a guttural tone he had no right to use when addressing an innocent woman.

  She stepped away from the tub and he took the towel from her hands, patting down her legs and arms before he ran the terrycloth across her middle, taking extraordinary care in caressing her breasts.

  Her eyes followed his. She spread her legs, and a low moan slipped from her lips when his hand brushed against her mound.

  “You’ve been trained. Somebody in your life prepared you for a submissive lifestyle, didn’t they?” How could that be? If she’d been with a Dom, for what purpose had she been properly schooled, but left untouched?

  She bowed her head, but not before he saw the moisture pooling in the corners of her eyes. She was scared, and he should’ve reassured her. He wouldn’t push her, or himself, to the limit yet. He had more self-control than Jules and a hell of a lot more self-preservation.

  Some Doms, even those with hard dicks pulsing with carnal heat, knew when to hold back, how to stop themselves from approaching the right submissive too soon. They backed the hell off for their own good.

  They were the men who understood the lifestyle, and a willing sub waiting to serve without question meant the end was drawing near. Sure, an exciting beginning loomed, but he was leery of the days ahead. Experienced Doms knew when to proceed with caution, and yeah buddy, this was one of them.

  “Wanna tell me about it?”

  “No,” she replied. “It’s not like what you think anyway. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “Another time,” she promised.

  He dragged the towel down her body again and this time, he pushed forward on a self-dare. He pressed the soft cloth against her pussy and gave the material a quick shake, thoroughly drying her. Only, if he cared to guess, there was no way to stop the moisture pooling between her legs.

  She watched him curiously. Her eyes fixated on the scar marking his forearm. Immediately, he was tossed into yesteryear. For some reason Jenna suddenly reminded him of a person from his past. “You need to get dressed.”

  “Can I have some privacy?”

  He’d been with submissive women who’d tested their Doms. He didn’t like experiments. He pushed his women to their limits and he expected their respect from the first day forward.

  “No, you may not.”

  He backed away and noted the way in which she responded to his voice. His tone excited her. The sharp points on her breasts were erect, perfect. Her eyes lowered, submissiveness encouraging her to assume her presenting position.

  He pressed his hip against the vanity in the center of the bathroom and folded his arms across his chest. The cotton bunched at his armpits. The clothing confined him.

  What he’d give to strip off his shirt and go to her, take her like a man without control. He wanted to bend her over the vanity and fuck her like a madman driven by recklessness. Instead, he practiced patience.

  She lowered her eyes again. That’s it, he thought. Submit to me, little subbie. Good heavens and the mercy found there, he’d backed himself into a corner. Now, he didn’t know how to work his way out of it.

  “I’ll have to dress in private. Serena must’ve taken my clothes back to our room.”

  Patting the vanity, he said, “Sit here. I’ll fetch you something to wear.”

  “I’d rather do it myself. I don’t like having someone go through my things.”

  He smirked. “You won’t have a lot of privacy here if you and I find a suitable arrangement. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “You do want me.”

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Yes, Master, I understand.”

  Holy hell.

  She was deliberately pushing the right buttons. She recognized a man who knew how to handle her. Perhaps she’d known right from the start. He and Jules understood how to please her.

  Without question, she realized what he expected. She had definitely been trained, received a limited education. Either that or she’d read up on Domination and submission. The second she addressed him in a manner in which he preferred, all bets were off.

  Sometimes a man had to witness things for himself. He knew it was too soon to touch her, but by damn, he could watch her.

  He took a seat on the countertop beside her and picked up her hand. Kissing her palm, he traced the lines with his tongue, drawing one finger inside his mouth and sucking the slender digit. A gasp fell from her lips, reminding him of a promise he’d made to Heath.

  This was the wrong time and the wrong woman. Sometimes life played cruel jokes on men and women destined to be together.

  If he’d met Jenna at another place, in another time, it would’ve been convenient, more appropriate. With Fiona sick, he should’ve put on the brakes, respected his older brother’s wishes. Instead, he was seconds away from abusing the trust placed, wrongfully misplaced.

  “I want to watch you fuck yourself,” Brogan grated out.

  “Right now?” she squeaked.

  “Did you hear me place time constraints or specifics on when?”

  “No.”

  He arched a brow.

  “No, Master.”

  “If you don’t finger yourself, I’ll spank you. Do you like for other men to watch your Master spank you? I bet you enjoy having your bottom smacked in front of an audience. Don’t you?”

  She didn’t answer him. She didn’t sass him, and yet
with the spunk he’d witnessed in Jenna, he’d definitely expected an argument. He lifted her hand to his mouth once more. Brushing his lips past her fingertips, he said, “Now, subbie. Fuck yourself. Make yourself come. Let me watch.”

  He dragged the dressing table bench across the room. He would observe from the corner. If he didn’t place some distance between them, he knew he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself. Jenna would be fucked. The last thing he wanted was to take her like a savage man-whore where his niece would hear them.

  “And do it quietly,” he reminded her, glancing at the door.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, using her middle and forefinger to form a V-shape to part her folds. Sticking her free middle finger inside her twat, she twirled the digit right inside her opening.

  “Perfect,” he crooned, watching her eyes more than her lower half. He’d give her a few minutes and let her become more comfortable with him before he outright gawked.

  Her breathing changed and she dropped the towel open. She moaned, a delicious cry making him so hard he could’ve came in his pants.

  “Ah yeah, that’s real nice, Jenna. Do it for me, baby. Make that pretty pussy damp and hot. Make me hard, darlin’.”

  She tilted her head. “Do you like women with big breasts?”

  “I like your breasts, subbie,” he assured her. “I’ll clamp those perfect nipples for you sometime soon. Would you like it if I pierced them? I can do that for you.”

  She shook her head and her hand stopped moving. “I don’t want them—”

  “You’re not supposed to want or need anything, subbie. Don’t argue with your Master. I know what’s best for you.”

  She moved her hand closer to her body once more. Three fingers sank inside her pussy. “Brogan, I mean…Master,!”

  “That’s right, stroke it, honey,” he rasped. “Go deep for me. Lean back. Get comfortable. Fuck yourself until you come, honey. Hump that hand, baby.”

  God damn, she was tempting him. All he wanted to do was pull out his hard cock and show her he had the discipline to stroke himself without going to her, without taking her or the temptation she offered. Instead he watched her fingers disappear into one of the prettiest pink pussies he’d ever seen.

 

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