Blaine, Destiny - Domination Plantation [Southern Plantation 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)
Page 10
She gulped. “I heard…”
“I know what you heard, damn it, but…”
Marcy gathered her clothes. She touched Jenna’s cheek in passing. “Damn, Brogan. You can’t blame a girl for watching. I’d look, too, if I were in her shoes. You’re a handsome thing when you come.”
“How the fuck would you know?” Brogan snapped. “You’ve never watched a man you’ve fucked or looked up at one when he comes in your mouth. It requires a little more intimacy than you know how to offer, doesn’t it?”
“Your girl apparently doesn’t mind watching, Brogan,” Marcy drawled, locking her bottom lip under her top teeth. “Maybe you should’ve paid your little houseguest a visit. Then your sweet cream would be on her chin instead of mine.”
Not one for a lot of modesty, Marcy marched out of the room and Jenna followed her.
“Don’t go,” Jules said.
Jenna dabbed at her damp face. Brogan felt like Satan because she looked at him with pure contempt in her eyes. He didn’t like the way he felt right then or the guilt consuming him.
After Brogan was fully dressed, he joined Jules at the bar. Jenna sat on the sofa across from them.
Jules sighed. “What you saw is only who we are.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “I’m shocked, that’s all….and hurt.”
Brogan poured a shot of whiskey straight down his throat. “You could’ve knocked.”
“You should’ve kept your dick in your pants.”
Jules and Brogan shared a knowing glance. Yeah, she nailed that one. Should’ve, could’ve, but ultimately…didn’t.
Jenna cleared her throat. “I’ve watched women give blow jobs before.”
“You’ve never watched me receive one, sugar,” Jules assured her. Maybe his brother was in love with Jenna, but Brogan now doubted his own feelings. Why wouldn’t he? They’d never been intimate, never even shared a kiss, and he’d failed the Marcy test.
Brogan studied her. He quickly turned up the bottle of whiskey Jules set on the bar. He drank from the container, and after a hearty swig, he placed the bottle on the bar. Drunk on lust as much as the booze, Brogan stalked forward and looped his arm around Jenna, certain he could explain away a man’s desire and the profound urges to act out.
He was wrong.
She wiggled away from him. “Don’t touch me! You think what I saw turned me on?”
“I want to explain,” Brogan said. Of course there wasn’t an easy explanation. He grabbed for her again and Jules stopped him, nudging him with his elbow and then taking hers.
“Come on, Jenna. Let’s get you back upstairs,” Jules said.
“I can find my own way,” she snapped with disgust. “I’m really glad I walked down here tonight because to think…to think…for one minute, I actually considered letting one of you….”
“Letting one of us what?” Brogan asked, gripping a barstool to steady himself.
“I didn’t fuck her, and her mouth wasn’t on me tonight,” Jules said, now proud of the fact he couldn’t get an erection stout enough to screw.
Jenna’s hands trembled and she stuck them in her front pockets. “You didn’t?”
“No.”
“He couldn’t,” Brogan slurred.
Jules narrowed his gaze and pushed the bottle toward Brogan. “Drink another one,” he spat from the corner of his mouth before reassuring Jenna, “I couldn’t because I have feelings for you.”
Son of a gun didn’t bother mentioning that his naked ass tried, but even rubbing his bare cock over a woman’s behind didn’t help matters. No point in bringing up something that might potentially hurt Jenna even more. She looked devastated, and Brogan realized how betrayed she must’ve felt. Now, he had to figure out if there was a way to make things right.
Jenna held her head a little higher, and she took a step backward. “It’s none of my business what either of you do while I’m here.”
“You got that part right,” Jules said.
“Good night then.”
“Nighty night,” Brogan slurred without looking up. Shit, damn, and hell, he’d done it now. The one woman he wanted most saw him with his cock shoved down the town whore’s throat.
With a hard tilt of his head, he motioned for Jules to follow her after she walked out of the room. He shouldn’t have bothered. He was left with a catch in his neck, and Jules was already on her heels by the time he sank to the floor with his bottle of bourbon.
* * * *
Jenna was hurt and confused. Her mind churned and her heart shattered. Perhaps one day she’d end up on her knees for a man who thought so little of her that he dismissed her when another woman walked in the room. She shuddered with the thought and for a passing second felt sorry for the feisty gal who had walked out of the room with Brogan’s cum staining her chin.
She topped the steps and stopped outside the bedroom. Jules stumbled up the stairs behind her. She warned him, “I’m not much for drunk men with hard dicks.”
Jules blinked. “What did you say?”
“Want me to repeat it?”
She glared at him and for a few seconds, questioned her feelings. Didn’t she have good reason to feel hurt and angry? Sure, she had every right.
She’d been there long enough to stop playing games. After a few days of stringing them along, she’d decided to grow up and pursue two men the way a woman should, not the way she might have as the girl she once was.
Maybe she waited too long or perhaps they weren’t as interested in her as she’d originally thought. Did they deliberately lie to her? Did they want her for keeps or just so they could add another tally mark on a true player’s score card?
Jules tripped on the last step and landed with his palms against the wall on either side of her body. His face was directly in front of hers. The move was planned. No one had that much luck. Nobody, especially a man stumbling around on liquor, could land in such a convenient position. A drunkard fully unaware of his situation would’ve latched onto body parts. Jules knew what he was doing.
“Now,” he drawled. “Let’s talk about hard dicks.” He moved his body forward and rubbed his stiff cock against her crotch.
She felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. “Don’t do this, not right now.”
“Right now is as good as it gets.” He took her face in between his hands and lightly brushed his lips across hers.
“Jules,” she whispered.
“I’m the first man who has kissed you, right?”
She swallowed tightly, and then reluctantly nodded even though the kiss she wanted didn’t come in the form of a light peck like she’d just received.
“Then, I’d better give you another one. This time, it’s gonna be a kiss worth remembering.” He lowered his lips to hers and made sure the second kiss counted.
Chapter Nine
He was going to love her into the morning, and she wasn’t going to resist him.
Her hands were in his hair, and she clutched him closer, kissing him like she’d never been kissed and never would be again. Her tongue swirled around his as both tongues dueled for the lead.
Apparently, she wasn’t hungry for any man. Evidently, she was starving for one in particular. And Jules deliberately kept her famished by feeding the excitement and the anticipation by backing off and coming forward, breaking their kiss and then feeding her his lips once more.
Lifting her to him, he cupped her bottom and wrapped her legs around his waist before walking one step at a time, easing his way closer to his bedroom. Everything about taking her to his bed turned into a chess game.
He plotted strategic moves, determined to take things slow. The turtle’s pace was killing him. If he ever slipped his dick inside her, he’d likely stay forever. In fact, he was pretty certain. After they made love, he didn’t think he’d ever have the first inclination to leave her side again.
Her kiss ignited a fire he never knew existed within his soul. Jules wanted Jenna to know how he could love her but he didn’t
want her to take stock in empty words. He planned to let her have a piece of him that he’d never put up for grabs again.
Backing into his bedroom, he reached for the light switch. The low light flickered. He noticed the edge of excitement lingering in her beautiful soft eyes, but fear lived there as well, a small spark of uncertainty dwelled under her long, dark eyelashes.
“I’ll be careful, Jenna.”
She shook her head and then used his shoulders to brace herself for a free fall. She dropped her legs and carefully slid away from him.
“Or not.”
He regrouped, cursing under his breath. He thought he’d taken things slower than normal, but apparently he’d moved fast enough to stop a sizzling romp on a hot June evening.
Jenna reached for him then, taking his hand and placing his palm above her heart. The rise and fall of her breasts captured his naked eye, but the thumping of her heartbeat right under his fingers made him realize this was most definitely the start of a never-ending affair. This wasn’t another a one-night stand.
Yes, he’d known from the moment he first saw her. He’d realized right from the start. He was going to love her.
In fact, he already did.
She tugged her sweatshirt over her head. He backed away, keenly aware of the show she wanted to give him and wishing, even though he’d quickly sobered up, that he’d never taken the first sip of alcohol on an evening when he wanted to make love to a woman.
“Jenna, come here.” He motioned for her with his index finger.
She shook her head and continued to undress, kicking off her sneakers like she was in a hurry. Then, she unhooked her bra.
“Dear God, you’re beautiful.” The words barely formed on his moistened lips. His dick pressed against his jeans and he was certain the zipper might pop all on its own.
Jenna smiled as beautifully as a woman had a right to smile, and unsnapped her shorts. She released each metallic clasp one by one—and there were only four of them, thank God—before pushing down the denim and losing the thong barely covering her. She stood before him, naked and spectacular. He pinched himself just to make sure he wasn’t living in a dream.
Jules reached for her again. This time, she knelt at his feet and lowered her eyes submissively. She completely took his breath away.
“What are you doing, baby?” he asked, peering under the cape of dark hair falling in her face.
“I know what you want in a woman, Jules.”
“Honey,” Jules slurred. “How could you possibly begin to understand what I…”
“I’m trained to submit,” she reminded him, and it was a matter-of-fact statement so curt in delivery that he didn’t bother to ask questions. Based on Jenna’s deliberate presentation, Jules never doubted what sort of education she’d received. She understood what a Dom needed in a submissive partner.
He grabbed her hands and pulled her on the bed. Her body was flush against his. Her breasts mashed against his chest.
Jules pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, nuzzling her. He wished he didn’t know as much as he did about her past. It would’ve been much easier to take her the way he would’ve taken any other submissive, but now he couldn’t.
After Jenna’s confession, he should’ve ignored what he knew and gone with what his nature demanded. Only Jenna was different, and he wasn’t sure how he wanted to make love to her, only certain that he wanted her more than he’d wanted her the second before, more than he’d ever want another woman again.
Working his belt free, he kissed her. This time, his tongue parted her lips, and the hunger rising inside of him drove the kiss, forcing him forward like a strong current. “Spread your legs for me, sugar,” he rasped, kissing her lips, chin, and neck.
She willingly complied. Her legs bent at the knees and then fell open.
He cleared his throat and said, “Perfect. That’s so beautiful, sweetheart.”
He rolled over her and then eased away from the bed altogether, forcing himself away from her so he could collect a few necessities while he undressed. When he rejoined her, he had a few tubes of lube, condoms, and nipple clamps. He loved to see a woman’s nipples clamped and wanted her nipples secured when he ate her pussy. No doubt, he would lick Jenna into a complete frenzy.
Already aroused, he grabbed her calves. “Never been kissed,” he whispered before he pulled the clamps away from the silver case securing them. He unhooked the chain linked to the cardboard displaying the claw-like contraption. Towering over her, he asked, “Ever worn anything like these before?”
She nodded, and her eyes hazed over. She glanced at his cock and blushed.
Shit. He tossed aside the clamps and dipped his head, using his tongue to arouse her. He moved to the other nipple once the first one was pointed to perfection. Then, he kissed toward her stomach, his hard length pressing against her upper thigh.
“I…” She gasped, trying to catch her breath. “I want the clamps.”
He stopped his pursuit and inhaled her scent. Her pussy smelled like vanilla and honey, a virgin’s vagina, a sweet and creamy place he couldn’t wait to visit first.
Ah fuck, her body was like a designated tourist trap. He wanted to enjoy her, devour her in a way guaranteed to secure his place as the only visitor invited there, at least for now. Eventually, Brogan would take his place in her bed, too.
“Are you sure about the clamps, Jenna?” he asked, rubbing his cock against her leg. “I like them. You’ll love them.” He rubbed one of the claws over a hard nipple.
“That feels so good,” she hummed. “Yes, I’m sure, Jules.”
“Why don’t you put them on,” he suggested. “Do you know how?”
She shook her head.
“But you have worn them before, right?” he asked cautiously.
She lowered her gaze. “I’m fully trained to serve.”
And that’s when his erection hardened and a dot of his excitement slipped from his slit. His self-control went straight to hell.
* * * *
Jenna was ready. After Jules kissed her, she decided she wanted her first real kiss and first penetration all on the same day. It seemed like a good day for firsts, a good hour for life-changing events.
She’d stood by and quietly observed as the redheaded gal went down on Brogan like she knew what she was doing. She’d studied them with interest. She wanted to be sure, when the time was right, she performed well.
Brogan must have thought something was seriously wrong with her. He probably didn’t understand why she hadn’t walked away when she’d obviously intruded on a private moment.
She’d watched for a reason.
Jenna wanted to learn from someone who apparently loved sucking a man’s dick. Thanks to the blow job she witnessed, Jenna understood what it looked like when a man wanted a woman. She saw how a gal earned the right to be called out as a wanted woman, a woman aroused by one or perhaps even two men who earned and deserved her trust.
Jules deserved her respect. He’d earned it, particularly since he evidently didn’t fuck the broad or receive a blow job. She wondered why. Was he in love with her? Did he deeply care for her in the same manner in which she cared for him?
The way he kissed her made her long for another kiss. The way he touched her made her yearn for another caress and the way he made her ache for him, oh, God, she couldn’t think straight. All she could do was enjoy him.
He clamped her nipples and she bit down on her bottom lip. “I see stars,” she whispered, dizzy with lust.
“Not yet,” he said softly against her lips. “But you will, I promise.”
Her hand instinctively fell to her bare mound. Her fingers dipped between her folds.
“Oh no you don’t,” Jules said, swiping her hand away. “Not until I say so.”
His cock lengthened and twitched when she touched herself. He apparently liked a woman who didn’t care if she caressed her own flesh.
She wondered then. Did he qu
estion why her pussy was shaved and waxed? Would he ask? Would he want to know more about the Dom who trained and taught her to perform certain tasks on a daily basis?
Would he realize she’d been prepared for this very purpose? Did Jules understand that it was her duty to wait for this moment, the time when another man considered her as a possible submissive, one he could claim with pride and possibly even ownership?
“Will you trust me, Jenna?”
When Jules spoke, shivers ran up her spine. He interrupted her fantasies and daydreams.
Watching him deepened her desire. Her nipples were tender. Her pussy, wet. She needed something inside her, stroking her, crossing barriers, and tearing down all inhibitions. She wanted Jules to strip her of her virginity and any measure of purity she still had left.
Her heart skipped several beats. Her female excitement saturated her folds. She contemplated the coming minutes, craving every moment of the long-awaited foreplay, the delicious sexual act.
His hand propelled up and down her inner thigh. “Do you like my touch, Jenna?”
She nodded and sat up, watching his fingers as they trailed toward her mound. They clasped hands over her bare pussy before he led her hand, guided her fingers.
His eyes searched hers. She could come, God help her, just from his verbal commands, if he’d only ask, if he’d demand her eager compliance. If he made the request, she might explode before any penetration.
He bit her knee and then ran his tongue up and down her inner thigh. His licking was so intense, so completely bothersome.
Her warm, slick heat pooled at her entrance, coating her pussy lips. He looked on, watched her with marked appreciation. Grabbing her wrist, he positioned her hand.
Leaving her fingers at her folds and pushing her legs apart, he whispered, “Finger yourself for me, lover.”
She went straight to work. First one finger disappeared inside her wet walls. Then, she slowly added another. Her mouth fell open and her gaze met his as she twirled the twitching digits higher.
“That’s right, sugar. Make yourself wet. Tell me how that feels. Are you tight?”