Jenna's Consent (10 page)

Forever.

Then he released the nipple clamps one at a time, another
orgasm ignited in her pelvis. Her nipples throbbed as the blood rushed back to
the tight tips and she screamed, bucking beneath him as he pumped and jerked
against her.

He laid his forehead against hers as they came together and
he kissed her mouth again. He spoke against her lips but she couldn’t hear him.

Her eyes finally closed, so she couldn’t see him as he
rocked against her. She squeezed him with her thighs, hugging him as best she
could, thanking him for what he’d given her.

She smiled once and then everything faded away.

She floated back down to earth a little while later,
blinking. He cuddled her on the floor with rope all around and some beneath her
still.

He had removed the ear plugs and the cuffs were unlocked but
still circling her wrists. He looked all put back together when she checked
down his body. He even still had his shoes on.

“I’m sorry I came when I wasn’t supposed to. You made it
impossible for me to hold it. It was…amazing.”

He kissed the crown of her head, holding her close. He must
have been uncomfortable just like she was but you wouldn’t guess just by
looking at him.

“You earned it.”

“But…”

“No buts. You’d already gotten what I needed you to
understand, that’s the whole point of punishment. While I fucked you, you kept
repeating ‘I will not tell a lie’.”

She thought she’d been quiet, she’d thought she was only
saying it to herself.

His words echoed in her head again.
I want to hear you.

She was speechless.

He got her. All of her and knew how to handle her. To give
her what she needed.

“Good girl, Jenna. Good girl.”

Being hit by a 747 wouldn’t have hit her any harder.

The two words she’d ached to hear again sank inside her.
They multiplied, filling her up as if they were water and she was the vessel
meant to hold them. To protect them. To keep them safe and sound until he
needed them back.

She’d needed to hear them for so long but she’d been worried
they’d feel hollow and empty. It wasn’t the same as hearing them from Ian.

But it was amazing. A revelation.

So what did she do?

She got mad.

“What the fuck?” She scrambled out of his arms and up onto
her shaky legs. She kicked his rope as she stomped over to where her tutu sat.
She yanked it up her legs and cursed as the scratchy material brushed across
her sore backside.

“I’m not done with you.” He stood, coming at her.

“Oh, you sure as shit are. You gave me an order that you
knew I couldn’t follow through on and you willfully set out to make me fail
at.” She ripped off the cuffs around her wrists and threw them at him. “I’m
having a problem with someone. Is this what you meant when you said I needed to
come to you with them?”

“Would you just calm down?”

“I am calm,” she yelled at him as she stomped around him,
shoving her feet in her shoes. Then she whirled around, planting her fists on
her hips. She felt like an avenging fairy or something. Pretty hard to take
herself seriously with her tits hanging out. She stuffed them back in her
corset and the scent of his come rose to greet her and flash her the middle
finger.

“Use your words, Jenna.”

She clomped back over to him and got in his face again. “I’m
tired. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m feeling bitchy as hell. I’m still
horny and I want to go home.” She reached up to take his collar off but the
cold metal of a lock brushed her fingers. “You put a fucking lock on it?”

“Sure did. Thirty days. No returns. No exchanges. Sale is
final. Check the fine print.”

She took off for the door, seeing red. Not because he’d
locked her in the collar but because she was glad she couldn’t take it off.
“I’m going home to sleep.”

“You are in my bed each night. That’s the rules.”

She hooked her thumb toward the rope scattered all over the
floor. “Consider that pallet of rope tonight your bed. I was in your arms while
we laid on it, so technically I’m not breaking your precious rules.”

“Now wait just a damn minute—”

“What? You can get me on a technicality but you’re not
subject to the same rules? Fuck. That. I may have agreed to submit to you but I
did not agree to you mind-fucking me.”

“It wasn’t on your list of hard limits, now was it?”

“There you go again with your technicalities. I’m going
home.” She opened the door.

“Wait. You’re in no shape to drive, I’ll take you.”

“No, I can take care of myself.”

“You’re being a bit rash.”

She twisted the collar around, pointing to the lock. “Well,
if that isn’t priceless. You calling the kettle black?”

“Do not walk out that door, Jenna.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Why do you have to be so hardheaded?”

“Ugh. Men!” She walked out but not before she heard him call
after her.

“Women!”

Nick slammed open the door into the security room, so
fucking pissed off he couldn’t think straight.

If she wanted to be so hardheaded that she’d storm out when
he was offering her nothing but help then so be it.

It didn’t matter to him anyway.

Not. At. All.

He’d cleaned up the room, throwing ropes back in the bag as
if they were live grenades.

The fact that all he had to do was move and he caught her
scent on him—all over him—didn’t have anything to do with his Mount Vesuvius
temper. He could have showered, washing her off, but fuck that.

Nor did the fact that he’d stormed out of the building
contribute to it, stomping self-righteously to his Mustang just to discover he
had no keys to open it.

Nothing could have been more frustrating than having to
stomp back inside, past his playroom, up the elevator and to the command
center.

That room just happened to be situated smack-dab right next
to Jenna’s prep room.

All the guys called it the black hole since the girls could
get lost for hours in there.

Lost.

Wasn’t that just the word of the damn day?

Earlier on the couch he’d almost confessed he wanted to fuck
the fight out of her. He wanted her so exhausted she’d never leave him. Never
walk away. He’d swallowed the impulse—thank fuck—but the thoughts were there.

He scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration.

He glanced at the bank of monitors out of habit, not really
seeing anything. They took up most of one wall, glowing in the dark room and
casting a haze over the desk situated below them.

He flipped on the light switch as if it had insulted his lineage.
His eyes adjusted to the instantaneously bright room and he focused on the desk
again.

His keys sat innocuously on the corner, exactly where he’d
left them before going down to find Jenna.

She occupied his every thought. All he could think about was
taking her, pushing her, owning her. And now that he’d had her? It was supposed
to be better, right?

Not fucking likely.

He was sexed up to dangerous proportions, even though he’d
come on her and then in her not twenty minutes before.

God, her mouth. Every inch of her was perfect.

And her eyes on him when she was blowing him—dammit.

Her defiance flipped so many switches inside him he could
write a thesis on punishment options.

He took a deep breath as if he was in yoga or some shit.

Glancing around the room seemed to distract him enough to
feel human again so he checked everything again for the night even though he’d
already done it.

Twice.

He stared at the monitors again. All sixteen of them were
split into four camera views.

Something moved on the main stage screen but when he looked
again all was static. The pan, tilt and zoom controllers sitting in two
positions on the desk were set to hibernate ’til the next evening and the racks
of DVR equipment loaded in the back wall hummed as everything around the
property was recorded.

The external hard drives blinked as they recorded, as did
the network switches mounted in a secondary rack.

Everything was as it should be.

Except his damn mind, which couldn’t give two shits about
anything but tracking Jenna down and fucking her so completely she stopped
fighting him on everything.

He snatched his keys off the desk, shoving them in his
pocket.

Frustration built inside him until he kicked one of the
chairs so hard it slid across the hard wood floor, banging into the far wall.
Thankfully the wall was completely empty or Jared would have had his ass. Not
to mention Bryan, who had insisted on upgrading all of the equipment before he
agreed to head security.

The guy seemed all right.

His stoic attitude earlier had been a bit strange but he
knew security. Chris and Jared trusted him. That was enough of a glowing
endorsement as he needed.

Nick stood still, blowing out a deep breath, trying to calm
his inner caveman. Evanescence filtered into his ears after another exhale and
he rolled his eyes. He’d told Jackson time and time again to turn off the radio
every night.

How did I miss that earlier?

He moved over to the rack and tried flipping the power
switch but it was already off.

His eyebrows sunk into a V and a growl almost slipped out.
He glanced at the monitors again, zeroing in on the main stage. It normally
paid to listen to his instincts and he should have earlier when he’d caught
movement out of the corner of his eye.

It was almost five in the morning, no one was normally up
now.

But…what the hell?

He grabbed the remaining chair, collapsing into it and
stared at camera thirteen.

Jenna stood on the main stage, wearing the same corset he’d
come on less than twenty minutes ago. She’d put her panties back on and some
kind of black half mask he’d never seen before.

She was too far away and the camera on her didn’t have
enough optical zoom to capture the details he wanted.

And he wanted them all.

Over her shoulder she carried a pink duffle bag. It looked
heavy but she carried it with ease, dropping it to the right of the center of
the stage. She stepped over to the far left and down the stairs, each of her
movements having the same grace as a ballerina with the sexiness of a cat.

The control panel stood no more than a foot away from the
bottom step. It activated all aspects of the main stages equipment—the parts
hidden inside it and the web of rigging above it.

Jenna swiped her card and entered her password, then raised
a large A-frame in the center of the stage. It rose from the stage itself,
morphing from a flat surface into what he now saw.

He’d never seen it before.

He knew every piece of equipment in the entire club, yet
somehow one sexy brunette continued to stump him.

Four small circles rotated caddy-corner to the frame, revealing
what looked like metal loops. They were situated in a square around the frame.

She closed up the control panel, effectively locking the
equipment in place.

He’d studied rope suspension for several years and knew a
tying frame when he saw one. Jenna climbed back on the stage, opened her bag
and pulled out several lengths of rope. She used those to tie down the top of
the frame to the anchor points she’d unearthed around it.

Smart girl.

Safety-conscious girl.

His cock jerked, reminding him he had every right to crash
her little not so secret party.

He clenched his fists around the armrests on the chair,
preparing to get up and do just that. But his brain kicked in, reminding him he
actually had one. She hid everything, except what he forced out of her or she
revealed when she thought no one else was looking.

He felt a fleeting moment of guilt, preparing to watch
something so very personal to her—especially if she’d kept that side of herself
hidden for as long as he’d been there. But he brushed that shit off his
shoulders and leaned back in the chair.

She knew the rules of security The Library employed to keep
the members, employees and owners safe. Safe from accidents and stupidity.

Cameras had been there long before he’d shown up on the
scene and she knew where they all were and that the camera feeds were all
recorded. She knew he could go back and look at any of the footage from a
single day, weeks or months later.

If she decided to ignore the information, then who was he to
ruin an opportunity to learn more about her?

He stared at her as she moved a step stool beneath the
frame, standing on it and hefting a thick stainless steel ring into place at
the apex of the frame. She quickly tied it to a swivel at the top, rotating it
in both directions before climbing down.

Realization dawned on him.

The twins had told him of a special modification to the
stage Jenna had begged for when the main unit had been constructed. It was a
one-of-a-kind stage they’d commissioned specifically to their specifications.
They hadn’t been specific on what modification she’d wanted added because they
said it didn’t matter, since she’d never used it.

No wonder she’d pushed Jared and Chris so hard for the frame
when they were having the stage constructed.

She was a self-rigger.

But he reviewed the footage from the night before each
morning. No way would he have missed that. No way would he have missed her.

The bag sat open at her bare feet and she dug through it to
select coils of rope. Frustration bled off her as she tossed several onto the
stage.

Interesting, how similar their mannerisms were when they
were pissed off.

He decided to put off thinking about that revelation until
pigs flew out of the new guy’s ass on a Tuesday.

She mumbled but she’d turned up the volume of the music at
some point so her voice didn’t carry over the haunting tones of the songs she’d
chosen. Her voice was too low for him to make out how many versions of asshole
she could come up with for him. Or how many times his hand was going to connect
with her ass for putting rope as a hard limit.

Meticulously, she wove a chest harness around her torso.
Each piece had to be perfect before she moved onto the next wrap. Her movements
weren’t hurried or awkward. She was graceful and so fucking sexy he could
barely stay in his seat.

The mask covered her face from the top of her nose all the
way to beneath her chin. He hated not being able to see her face. He couldn’t
read her with it covered.

It’s why he’d insisted on eye contact with her.

Keeping her gaze on the floor wasn’t respectful from her. It
was more than a mild fuck you. Letting someone top her was nothing but a joke.
She let them think she was with them, when all she was doing was burrowing down
inside herself. During the time with anyone she did nothing but let tiny
snatches of herself out to play.

She hid everything.

His pulse kicked up, blood throbbing in his cock. He wanted
to rearrange it but knew if he touched it at all he wouldn’t be able to keep
himself from jacking it to the sight of her.

After finishing the harness around her chest she added a hip
harness as well. The lightness of the rope highlighted so perfectly against the
black of her panties. Suspension lines were swiftly attached to both harnesses,
along with carabineers, and she added both to the ring above her.

With a few quick movements, faster than anything Nick had
ever seen, she suspended herself on the stage.

All alone.

Lights from above.

She looked like an angel, flying there on Earth for the mere
mortals lucky enough to see her.

Bondage in general turned him on something hardcore. He got
off on controlling someone else. He really got off on the notion of someone
relying on him for everything in a scene.

Especially when he decided to take away one or more of their
senses and then play them hard. It multiplied their ability to focus on what
was left. On what he gave them.

The ear plugs with Jenna.

Breath play.

Orgasm Denial. Control with nothing more than his command
and her mind.

They were each some form or function of bondage and he
prided himself on his control in those situations.

Jenna moved lines, releasing her torso until all her weight
rested on her hip harness. She hung upside-down, lifting one of her legs to
wrap around her suspension line. The other foot she grabbed behind her head, reminding
him of a gymnast.

The control he wore as if it were a badge of honor, the same
control he had no problem maintaining around other submissives, evaporated as
he watched her self-rig.

His cock pulsed beneath his slacks and he shifted in his
chair, releasing another plume of her fragrance.

It went straight to his head and right down to his dick.

“Fuck it.”

He kicked the door shut, released the belt and button on his
slacks and pulled out his cock.

He gritted his teeth to keep from moaning like a bitch in
heat at the feel of his own fingers circling his flesh.

Heat radiated from him but he knew the office was a cool
seventy-two degrees.

It was her.

Jenna.

She heated his blood to boiling with a simple glance and a
peek of her tongue when she stuck it out at him for something he’d done.

She grabbed rope from where she’d laid it on the stage and
if he wasn’t mistaken she had her eyes closed, doing all of it by feel. By
touch and sensation and a pretty fucking incredible muscle memory he hadn’t
even mastered while tying someone else.

He’d studied under some amazing mentors before, had gained
skill for several years, but he wasn’t as good as her.

Not even close.

It didn’t hurt his pride as much as he expected it to.

She was incredible as she attached a single column tie on
her ankle and proceeded to tie her leg in a fat leg tie. A futomomo while
suspended, turning slowly in a circle until she’d completed all of the knots
and attachments on both sides of her leg.

She created some kind of Y-knot, using both sides of the
basket. Then she connected it to the ring, transferring all of the tension to
her one leg, releasing the hip harness completely.

He absentmindedly swiped the head of his dick and his thumb
came away wet.

His cock wept for her, for her beauty, her strength and for
whatever made her hide the amazing talent he watched unfold before him.

As he squeezed down on his shaft and then back up, a
tingling sensation started in his balls.

He’d barely jacked himself at all and release already sat
waiting for him.

He fisted his cock, working it, using the pre-cum to slide
easier through his grasp.

His girl was onstage, suspended by a single rope, hanging
from a substance that could give her pain and pleasure, fear or comfort.