Jenna's Consent (24 page)

Her exhale said it all.

He stayed where he was, touching her, brushing strands of
hair from her neck, massaging her shoulders as she tied, kissing her shoulder.
Biting it—hard.

She tied faster, closer to the end. The ends of the rope
flew in all directions. It almost seemed as if the rope were her baton and she
conducted some kind of orchestra only she could hear.

But he heard it.

Through her.

From her.

For her.

She tied with an emotional chorus raging through her body,
the likes of which he’d never seen before. It was magnificent to witness,
divine to touch as she tied the last knot on the top of the basket on her right
knee completing his command.

“Done. Sir,” she panted behind her mask.

The hair on her temples was slightly shiny from the sweat
beading on her brow as she exuded more and more energy closer to the end of the
tie.

He reached around her, grabbing the last coil of rope laid
before her.

He released the wrap holding it together and moved her arms
behind her again, crossing her wrists so he could tie them together. Wresting her
control from her, removing the physical aspect of it had adrenaline racing
through his veins.

After binding her wrists, he attached them to the chest
harness with a couple well-placed knots. Then he decided to put the extra rope
to good use after he suspended her, so he left it loose.

He moved her right under the frame, laying her on her back,
with her knees bent before her. One more hank of rope from his bag was all he
needed for the mainline.

He tied onto the loop of rope she’d left him at the top of
her knee, then ran it up to the suspension ring above her.

“Deep breath,” was all he said to her, before pulling her up
to a full suspension, putting all her weight on her right leg.

“Ahhh,” she cried out as the ties around her leg shifted
against her skin.

Her ties were perfect, taking her weight beautifully and
blood surged through his system, hardening the thick shaft of his cock.

He wanted to take her then, stake his claim on her, mark her
as his own but he decided to mark her in a different way. Reminding her why
they were there to begin with was much more important.

“Mmmm. You’re pussy’s wet for me isn’t it?” He rubbed his
fingers over the obvious wet spot on the crotch of her panties. “Quite the rope
slut, aren’t you?”

He got on his knees again, putting her face only a few
inches below his.

With the blindfold still in place she couldn’t see him but
she could sure as shit hear him.

“My rope slut. Say it. I want the words.”

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled behind her mask, opening and closing
her hands to process the pain of the tie. “Your slut. Yours.”

“My name.” He grabbed her by the back of the head and the
knot of the blindfold, lifting her body into his personal bubble and away from
the suspension ring.

“I know it’s you, Nick. Sir, I know it’s you.”

“Good. Don’t you dare come.”

She made a sound as if she was going to speak again but he
released her hair, dropping her into the full weight of the suspension again.

Instead of crying out this time, she bore it silently,
trapping her true reaction behind the mask she wore and so many other things he
had a feeling he didn’t know of.

He grabbed the rope still attached to her wrists behind her
back, looping it up and over her pussy, then ran the working end through the
lower wrap on her chest harness tugging it tight, tying it off as she twitched
against it.

Happy rope.

Or in her case, not happy rope, since she couldn’t come.

She moaned again as the rope bit into her pussy, creating
crotch rope she could hump against to get herself off.

If only she had permission.

He wanted to tweak her nipples, suck on them, bite them
until she begged him to stop but the corset she wore kept them trapped.

“You keep so much hidden from me, from others.” He spoke
low, not wanting to share with everyone else watching but not wanting to hide
it from her either, nor make her feel like it was some dirty secret she needed
to protect any longer.

He pulled the sadistick from his back pocket, rolling it in
his palm.

She trembled at his words and he chose that moment to
strike. He whacked her on the ass and she gritted her teeth, shaking her head
frantically.

His hand on the rope directly on her clit distracted her and
her toes clenched on both feet.

The pain of the tie was nothing compared to the pain of the
stick, especially for a rigger who could process rope pain so quickly and find
their happy space.

Her free leg twitched as some of her coordination began to
fail her as he distracted her.

He smacked her again, this time on the tiny space between
the bottom of her ass cheek and her thigh. Her whimper reached him and he
touched her panty-covered pussy again.

When he touched the stick to her thigh she jumped,
anticipating another strike but none came. He let her settle, enjoying his
touch and ran the thin stick on her skin between where her rope dug into her
flesh.

He moved the stick back up to her ass, keeping the side closer
to the handle flush with her body. He grabbed the far end of the stick, brought
it away from her then released it.

The tiny whoosh and the resulting cry echoed inside him.

“Please, Sir,” she begged.

“Please what?” he asked and he let the end of the sadistick
mark her again.

“Fuck,” she cursed.

Thin red lines appeared on her skin each time he let the
cane hit her.

She cried out, she begged, she pleaded, but she never safe
worded. Never once did that bastard’s name pass her lips.

Thank. Fuck.

Her pelvis rolled uncontrollably at the end, trying
desperately to find enough friction to get off even though she knew couldn’t.
Her brain tried to override his command and he didn’t relent.

No matter how wet she became, he kept playing with her.
Touching her, flirting with the unknown, wondering if she could hold out.

“Don’t do it,” he reminded as he rubbed the rope against her
asshole, tugging on it between her breasts and her clit, stimulating her and
then stopping right before she could get off.

The tie was painful but it didn’t seem to faze her. Her
entire being changed as she looked for that connection, the completion of
coming for him.

Every move he made around her, she followed. She craned her
neck to focus on him, whether subconsciously or not.

The pain of any tie ramped up the longer he kept her there.
Especially when all her weight was supported by one leg. Her fingers splayed
behind her back, trying to process it. He spanked her ass with his hand,
grabbing it, hating himself for deciding on the no-fly zone for her orgasm but
he had plans for her.

Several more spanks in quick succession signaled the end of
his patience. Her wet pussy soaked through her panties, the rope and his hand
as he rubbed his fingers against her one last time.

She’d had enough, no matter how much she begged to stay in
the air, he knew better.

Her body had been pushed to a limit he’d only prayed he’d be
able to get her to.

He released several of the knots on the rope suspending her
and began lowering her to the ground.

His cock jumped as her hand grabbed at him on the way down.
Clenching his jaw barely stopped the curse poised to jump into the space
between them.

“Tuck your head, Jenna.”

She tucked it, and he lowered her all the way to the ground.
Her body shook as he began to untie her.

One of the riggers he’d learned from taught him the timespan
of untying should match the time it took to rig the person in the first place.

He agreed.

Normally.

But this was not that time.

He unwrapped and unknotted jute from around her left leg and
she moaned when the tension released on all her joints.

“Thank you, Sir.” Three little words. Sixteen letters but
they wrecked him.

The way her voice lilted up at the end as if she were still
riding the edge of orgasm, slammed him in the back of the head and filled
something in his chest he’d assumed would remain empty forever.

He ripped off the rope on her right leg and she cried out.
He tossed the rope aside in a pile he couldn’t give two shits about as he
rubbed over the rope marks.

Her body wouldn’t stay still. She moved and arched as he
pushed her past the point of exhaustion but she stayed with him.

He moved her up onto her knees and caught sight of her
fingers rubbing together behind her back. He’d purposefully left her arms,
hands and chest tied.

The blindfold went first. He pushed it off her eyes, tossing
it in the same direction of the rope.

“Eyes on me.” To her credit she locked onto his face no
matter how spaced out she was. “You look away and we’re done.”

She focused on him and him alone. He was the master of her
universe, making him want to fucking roar.

He unbuckled her mask, ripping it off her, tossing it aside.

Breathing must have been difficult for her. She sucked in
huge lungfuls of air, her chest rising and falling as much as his rope and her
corset would allow.

His cock was going to have permanent indentations from the
zipper on his pants for how hard his erection was.

Slowly he released the top button on his pants, pulling the
tab down on the zipper one tine at a time.

Jenna licked her lips, inhaling deeply as he pulled his
erection free.

“You’re the biggest rope whore I’ve ever met.” He fisted his
cock, jerking his flesh in front of her, testing her, taunting her. “So fucking
sexy on your knees beneath me.”

He rubbed the head of his cock against her lips, watching
his pre-cum glisten along them, mingling with her spit.

To her credit she never glanced away, didn’t close her eyes
for longer than a regular blink. Her focus was on him and nothing else was
going to change that.

He couldn’t wait any longer to claim her again.

“Open.”

She didn’t have to be told twice.

Her jaw opened and she stuck her tongue out just enough to
shield his cock from her bottom teeth. Her wet tongue slid against the bottom
of his shaft, coating him in her saliva.

“Suck me. I’m gonna come in your mouth before I take you.”
He pushed in as her lips closed around them.

Her eyes on him.

Sexy brown eyes staring up at him couldn’t have made his
cock any harder but her wicked little tongue rolling along his shaft as he
fucked her mouth sure as hell did.

He withdrew, pulling almost free but she sucked him back
inside.

He seized the back of her head, fisting her dark locks with
both hands so she had no control left. Moving was out of the question as he
pushed into her mouth again, pressing in until her nose almost touched his
abdomen.

Her throat worked the head of his dick and he fucking lost
it.

His control was shot to shit. He pulled out and thrust into
her mouth again, her teeth scraped down his shaft. That was all it took.

Sweat beaded along his spine as his seed shot into her
mouth. He roared. One of them groaned and he felt it in the pit of his abdomen.

Her eyelids finally closed as he pumped erratically past her
lips and she sucked him on each thrust as if she’d never get to taste another
cock again.

Her head jerked to the side as soon as he pulled free and
she swallowed several times, running her tongue on her lips and chin as if she
didn’t want to lose even a single drop.

“Perfect.”

She sighed as he laid her on the ground.

Standing over her, tucking his still hard cock back into his
pants, he couldn’t wait to fuck her again.

He needed her, to take her, to own her.

Kneeling beside her, he rolled her body close to him and she
curled around his knees, trying to get as close as she could.

He untied her wrists, freeing them from the harness, and
then pulled her into a sitting position, leaning her body against his chest so
he could finish untying her.

Her body lay limp against his own. Her slight weight warring
with the image etched into his mind of her suspended, taking the pain he needed
to give her.

She blew his mind with what she could do.

What she could take.

And give.

He tossed the rope into the pile he’d started earlier, then
picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Her sigh made him pull her closer,
protecting her, lov—

He’d almost said loving her but that just wasn’t what this
was about.

Her mask lay on the ground, abandoned.

He made sure to step on it as he moved across the stage to
the steps on the side.

Jackson met him at the bottom. “I’ll take care of the rope
and the rest of the room. You just do what you need to with Jenna. Skye and I
will handle everything else.”

Good thing ’cause Nick could have given a shit, which was
odd because normally he’d take anyone off at the knees that even thought about
touching his rope.

They could use it for a bonfire for all he cared.

All he wanted was through the sea of people so he could get
Jenna behind closed doors and sink inside her sweet body, to sate himself with
her.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t think he could without growling at every person in
the room to get out of the fucking way.

The look on his face evidently said enough because the sea
of kinky humanity parted for him.

All.

But.

One.

Ian stood at the edge of the crowd, fists balled at his
sides.

Nick hugged Jenna closer, thankful for her comforting weight
in his arms.

If she hadn’t been there, he’d have clobbered Ian.

He moved past him, catching him with a bit more shoulder
than was completely necessary.