Switch (A BDSM Romance Novel) (6 page)

Jenna returned to Amelia’s store a mere three days later, following an intriguing conversation with Viola and Aaron; one that opened her eyes even wider to the openness with which Henry and herself could display their relationship if they chose; and yet they had no
t discussed such a thing. Henry walked beside her now, head held high as he wandered in public with her, a participant in Viola’s greatest idea.

To be honest, they hadn’t discussed anything that Viola had said at all. All Jenna had told him
was the bare bones, the where and the why that were supposed to invite questions and conversation. Instead she had been met with a ready acceptance and other than that a simple silence that showed her that he was not at all suspicious, or curious, about the evening.

He had dressed as he always did for Amelia’s parties
, the familiarity of it enough to make her forget that they were not walking towards that long row of houses with the beautifully manicured gardens. That she could not smell the fresh air and flowers and grass. That it was not necessary for her to follow strict protocol rules, as shown by Henry slowing every time that she stepped to walk behind him, a need that only increased as the store drew closer and the intentions grew louder.

Viola greeted them outside, grinning widely as she clapped her hands together with impatience, the door half-open even as the sign in the window read ‘closed’.
Dom was washing the windows from the inside, a sheet covering the floor below him as the suds washed down under Amelia’s watchful eye. The outside had already been done, as obvious by the large puddle of damp that trailed off of the curb and into the road, running along the yellow lines to trickle into a drain nearby. It collected there, dripping slowly, drop by drop, under the ground.

It looked like one of Viola’s photos in motion.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” The girl whined, skipping forwards girlishly to drag them towards the door, behaving as someone far too young to be allowed into the dirt and depravity that often found its way into the intricate café. It was difficult to believe that she was in fact the eldest of her class, and there were students years younger than herself who would be engaging into similar study.

How old were they when they started drawing naked figures?

Jenna found herself clasping the girl’s hand tightly as they walked together, holding onto her as if she may need a watchful eye or the touch of a friend. She was reluctant to let her go, and a huge loss overwhelmed her as Viola released her, running straight to the curtain as Henry shot Jenna a small, sad, understanding smile, reaching his own arm around her waist to hold her steady. They caught up slowly to where Viola stood, Aaron gazing adoringly as he leaned against the wall beside her. She held the curtain aside for them, silently begging them to hurry as excitement lit her eyes, small burbles of laughter escaping as the finally entered the room and she danced in behind them.

“I’m only going to do a few photos for now.” She told them. “I want a variety of different subjects rather than the same models used over and over, so if you know anyone…”

Amelia stepped forward and placed a hand on her arm. “I know plenty, dear. Leave the people to me, and for now just focus on the ones here.”

She arched her neck as she turned back to face Henry and Jenna, her voice crisp and demanding. “Use Henry and Jenna for now, and if you need anything, let me know.”

Viola nodded at them before responding shyly. “I would like to use you and Dominic, too, if that is okay?”

“That is absolutely fine.” Amelia assured her. “He’ll be happy to finish up on the windows anyway.”

“Who says he hasn’t finished up already?” Dom’s voice called, and the group collectively turned to see the tall man, holding the beads and looking pleased.

“Have you done the bathroom, kitchen and upstairs?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go.”

And just like that, the pair were gone, leaving Jenna, Henry and Aaron with Viola, a camera in her hand and a calculating look piercing her round eyes. The room seemed darker and more intimate with it empty, yet Viola, so sweetly unabashed, made it seem mundane and commonplace, as if people weren’t once hung for buggery, and never would someone be termed ‘abused’ for their love of a riding crop. A pervert for pressing their lips against the handle in affection and gratitude.

“I want to start with just hands and sections of bodies for now.” Viola told them as she matter-of-factly pulled a length of rope through her
fingers. “Jenna, can you clasp your hands behind your back, and then Henry stand in front of her with your arms around her and your hands holding hers?”

They manoeuvred into position awkwardly but hastily, turning their heads to face her as they waited for her to fix their undoubtedly wrong positioning.
Their heads were turned together though, and Jenna felt that familiar spark of want rise as she felt Henry’s heat and his breath, his cheek only millimetres away from her own. She could feel the smooth skin, if only she would lean a little closer…

Viola watched them critically, walking towards them and standing behind Jenna to see their hands, pulling and pushing them into the position that she wanted, and unknowingly pulling Henry forwards.
Henry was leaning over her shoulder now, still the same shoulder that Jenna herself was peering over, watching Viola’s neat but slow tying of the thick rope around their hands, binding them. Her arms behind her back, her chest pressed forwards, Jenna had no choice but to feel Henry’s body so close to the length of her own, unable to shift or pull away, even as she stood with precarious balance, the anxious stillness of someone who feels that they cannot move an inch forwards or an inch back for fear of falling into someone; be it the friend at her back or the lover before her.

They are not your enemies.

The absurdity of her worries was easily apparent, and yet she did not listen to the loud, clear, sensible voice that often governed her well. She was too overtaken with the headstrong, worried Jenna that required constant reassurance and yet could not ask for it even when it was less than a centre meter away.

She wobbled lightly, a small gasp of breath escaping her as regained her footing, a little closer to Henry than she had been before, her ha
nds pulling tighter against the rope. Henry’s heated hands scorched her as they rubbed together, their palms entwined and their wrists chafing. He laughed softly, a low quiet laugh that Jenna was uncertain of Viola hearing. If she did hear, she didn’t comment, only carried on moving fingers as Henry stepped closer still, their bodies touching completely and his arms caging her. No longer lifted away, now they held her, brushing against her hips before rising to circle her lower back. Every breath of his could be felt, every fan of air over her cheeks and lift of her chest against her own. She could feel herself heating at the exquisite feel; warmth of skin, soft hardness of his torso brushing hers, the smell of him, clean and masculine as it invaded her nostrils. She could hear it when he swallowed.

What if he just turned his head, just a little, to lick and nibble at her ear?

Jenna suppressed a moan and closed her eyes, determined not to move even as she felt her body responding, her needy quim awakening and begging for attention. Could he feel her, through their layers of clothing, she wondered. She wondered if he could smell her, if Viola could, too. Hers was a heady scent, one that she knew well as she licked the arousal from her fingers or stared in amazement at her damp knickers. It was the smell that filled her bedroom and lingered in the sheets, filled the bathroom along with steam when she masturbated while bathing.

Without warning the warm breath flew over her neck, blowing gently as he did to peak her nipples.

Regardless of where the sweet scent aimed, her breasts felt constrained. Another small chuckle and then his voice, far too close and far too low. A small shiver fell down her spine like a feather’s stroke, and although she could not remain like a statue, she opened her eyes to see if she’d been seen.

Only to be met by Henry’s smirk.

“This good with you?” He asked Viola. “You said you wanted faces, too.”

“Just hold you horses!” Viola reprimanded. “I already told you that I’m doing the hands first. But yes, I’ll do your faces before I untie you. Jenna said that she’s okay, too,
with the faces, so we’re all good.”

Henry met Jenna’s gaze and nodded, but his lover barely noticed, occupied as she was with the realisation that although she had brought Henry along as the partner that Viola had required of her, Henry had also brought her along as his.

No wonder he hadn’t been asking any questions. He’d already heard it all from Viola herself.

Aaron was silent as he rested against some shelves, one elbow on the wood and one leg straight while the other crossed over it. He watched quietly, keeping a reasonable distance away, however it wasn’t an empty gaze in the dire
ction of Viola. Instead he seemed fascinated, his face inscrutable and his body relaxed but his eyes intense as they followed the pixie-like woman.

Jenna’s attention was commanded once more by a final tug of
the rope, and she found Henry again, watching her intently, as intently as Aaron was watching Viola. The corners of his mouth turned upwards, and Jenna could not help but smile in response while the camera clicked and flashed behind her. She could hear Viola moving, shifting to take the shot from a variety of different angles, but found herself having less difficulty with remaining still than she had had before. There was no embarrassment, only a slight boredom as she waited out the flashes, watching Henry as he watched her. Scant moments later, Viola was done.

She stood to their side, her head tilted as she pondered them critically.

“Put you heads together so that they’re touching.” She demanded, and Jenna and Henry did so. “Now close your eyes.”

And that was that, a few more clicks and then the unwinding of the rope. Jenna’s eyes remained closed though, even though Viola softly whispered that she was done. She liked the feel of Henry against her with her eyes closed, focused only on feel, scent and sound. Viola’s small hands helped too, sparking life into her hands as they unwound the coarse rope. Once freed, she opened her eyes, holding still for a few moments more before taking her hands away and stepping back from Henry.

“Now take your shirt off and kneel.”

Jenna did so efficiently, folding the material and placing it aside, a new habit born of her interactions with Henry, who hungrily followed her every moment, his dilated pupils directed at her chest, where the small swell of breast could be seen as she reach
ed her arm across her body. She knelt before Henry, demurely averting her eyes as her cheeks flushed at the position that was a little too close to home.

She expected his hands in her hair or his cock at her l
ips, but neither came. And, she realised, groaning internally, neither would she. Until Viola was done with her slow capturing of their chemistry, she would not have a chance in hell at getting off.

No, that sort of thing would be far too outrageous for sweet Viola, and Jenna was already resigned to her fate.

She kneeled perfectly, as well postured and submissive as she would be if it were just her and Henry alone. Several photos and several uncomfortable moments and the Viola spoke again.

“Keep the rest of your body exactly the same, but lift your head a little to look at Henry, please.” She asked and Jenna did so, almost melting as she could not avoid it any longer.

He was burning, a half-snarl on his lips as he took in the sight of her, kneeling before him, her face tilted up to him expectantly.

“Oh, and try to look defiant.”

The effect was immediate, and that Henry became more Dominant, more commanding of her attention in return. He filled her vision and her mind with promises and punishments that taunted.

“Put one hand in her hair to tug it back, but Jenna you have to resist.”

They did so, becoming hotter and more overwhelmed with arousal as Viola took her shots, the fistful of hair causing Jenna’s neck to ache, every part of her wanting to give in and yield to his demands of her body.

Her very wet, very pliant body that was just begging for a fuck.

Without warning, her head tipped back and her eyes closed, a small sigh leaving her lips that was complimented by Viola’s murmur of approval.

“Nice.” She offered. “Stay exactly like that.”

Jenna stilled easily, trying not to swallow, aware as she was of the visibility of it from the angle that she was bent back to. Her lips parted a little to allow air in and out and she felt her spine where the back of her head rested. Her throat felt bare, exposed, and her collar bone just begged for Henry to kiss it.

He didn’t, of course, only released her hair upon Viola’s command, closing his legs to resume his full height.

Now, Jenna realised miserably, she knew exactly what it felt like to be Kitty.

“Henry, if you lie down and then Jenna bends backwards so that you can kiss her stomach…”

Henry didn’t so much as blink, only smirk as he lay, supported by Jenna and his forearms as he lifted his torso just enough to brush his lips against her, his face tilted upwards and eyes on hers as they gazed down at him, her back arched. The carpet felt rough against her elbows, tickling, and a cloud of lust spread through her from that one circle; the every breath that fell from his nose and lips. Without prompting he inclined his head so that his nose instead was burrowed against her belly, his forehead too, touching it. Lower now, when he blew out a long, deliberate sigh, it fell scarcely above her clothed sex, exciting her. She could feel him between her thighs, his arms caging her in and his chest spreading her knees. Her heels dug into her behind and her chest rose and fell visibly.