He looked down and his half-smile broadened.
‘Yeah, I get that,’ he said. ‘But it won’t break you, babe, I promise.’
‘Will you be … careful?’
‘You know I will.’ He came and sat beside her, holding her close, stroking her hair and kissing her face. ‘I’d never do anything to hurt you, Jen. Never. I want this to be as good for you as it is for me. The minute you feel like you can’t carry on, you have to tell me. Will you promise to do that?’
Jenna nodded, her hair mingling with the scattering of dark curls on his chest.
‘Good.’ He kissed her on the mouth, long and tenderly. ‘All right,’ he whispered. ‘Lie down on your front and I’ll get you ready.’
Jenna heard him rummaging in the drawer and expected him to make a dive straight for her bottom, but to her surprise, he poured a trickle of oil into the small of her back, making her jump at the sudden chill.
‘Sorry. If I’d planned this properly, I’d have put it in a burner first,’ he said. ‘Just a little something to loosen you up.’
He spread the scented oil around her back and shoulders, massaging her with heavenly efficacy. She could feel it melt into her pores, while his strong hands worked out the knots of anxiety beneath them.
‘Oh, you’re good,’ she moaned.
‘Another way I could have earned a living,’ he said. ‘If I’d thought of it. I’d like to paint the way your skin shimmers and moves underneath me. I’ll have to pose you like this some time.’
‘Is your next show going to be full of nude studies of me?’ She laughed lazily, thinking she was joking.
‘Yeah, I think it might be.’
‘Jason …’
‘Relax. Shh. Lie still now.’
How her muscles seemed to unloop and roll out into carefree ribbons beneath his touch. Oh, her masseuse in LA had had nothing on Jason …
But her masseuse in LA hadn’t slipped her hands beneath Jenna’s breasts to squeeze them either.
Neither had she made quite such a meal of her upper thighs, pushing fingertips into the sensitive inner skin, teasing and easing right up to her outer labia. He massaged them delicately, pulling the lips apart as he applied his heavenly pressure, making her long for him to reach over to her clitoris, or push a few fingers up inside her.
But he wouldn’t. He gave his full absorption to those fringe areas of her sex, knowing well how their stimulation sent waves of pleasure in turn to the inner sanctum. But she would have to wait, wet and longing, for him to arrive there.
Because now he was out and up and on to her bottom, grabbing great greedy handfuls of it, slicking and oiling it up until it must have shone.
He pressured and pummelled her, making her muscles ease and then begin to ache. He opened her cheeks wide and used his thumbs to draw deep circles in the sensitive insides until she wanted to buck and jolt with the need to be entered and taken.
‘Easy, love,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I don’t want to rush you.’
‘What if I want to be rushed?’
‘Are you telling me to get on with it?’
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that … but …’
Jason’s reply was to coat his fingers in lubricant and dig deeper between her cheeks. Her muscles, still relaxed from having the plug inside, allowed his fingers in without undue contraction.
How very different a proposition fingers were compared to a plug. The plug had sat, ever-present but motionless, while Jason’s fingers crooked and twisted and tested her limits until she squirmed and tried to pull her bottom away from him.
‘Nuh uh,’ he said, grasping her firmly by the hips. ‘You don’t get away that easily. Don’t you like it?’
‘It’s just … weird.’ She couldn’t even describe it to herself. It was invasive but not as uncomfortable as she’d thought. There was a faint pain, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the constant pulse of need situated around her sex. It wasn’t so much the sensation in itself that was arousing, but the knowledge of its being done to her. A man’s fingers are in my bottom.
Mere articulation of this thought was enough to make her bury her face and groan with shameful excitement.