What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [45]
Finally, he took the cup from her hand and said, “Go lounge amid those pillows,” pointing toward a stack of cushions a few yards away. Sasha and Barbie withdrew their touches, allowing Jenna to lie back among the cushions, a sensual vision in yellow. Her eyes said she was ready for more, and if it was possible, his dick got stiffer. “Very nice, slave girl,” he told her when their gazes met again—as he, too, reclined, leaning back against a large red bolster, propping himself up on his elbow.
That’s when she realized. “You’re not coming? Over here?”
He gently shook his head. “There’s more than one way for me to enjoy you, and right now, I wish to do it with my eyes.”
Jenna drew in her breath. Things were changing here, too quickly. And it had already been so very much to take in: the rich colors and shadowy air; Brent’s cock standing at attention for all to see beneath those pants while a gorgeous woman clung to him; and, of course, all these girls making out and touching each other. At first sight, her stomach had squirmed. But at the same time, she’d been drawn to watch even while embarrassed by her interest.
Once she’d started getting used to that, it had seemed like . . . wallpaper, like something that blended into the background after a while, and things had grown easier when he began to caress and kiss her. Even when he’d had the two pretty girls massage her, she’d not freaked out—she’d had occasional massages at home and had told herself this wasn’t really any different. That was a ridiculous lie, of course, but it got her through it.
And now . . . oh God, what was going to happen? Was he expecting her to do what those girls across the room were doing? Just then, she let out a silent gasp because a glance at two women on the room’s higher level revealed that it was more than just kissing now—one was eating the other. And a glimpse of yet another pair shocked her just as badly—both were topless now, kneading each other’s breasts.
“Spread your legs and reveal your cunt,” Brent said. She returned her gaze to him to make sure—and yep, he was talking to her.
She felt much as she had at moments in the schoolroom yesterday—like maybe it was time to say her safeword. But then she remembered—Brent had urged her to say it not from fear, but only if she was truly displeasured. Of course, being asked to reveal her vagina to a room full of other girls could be viewed as something that displeasured her—but did it? Really?
She sucked in her breath at the answer.
At any other moment of her life, it likely would have repulsed her. But right now, in this room, with all these beautiful, sexual women . . . there was an unforeseen part of her that wanted . . . to be like them. Be one of them. So sensual and carefree. Following urges. Seeking pleasure. And besides, she still found herself wishing to please Brent.
So she tucked away the safeword in the back of her mind and met his gaze, a place where she always found . . . not solace or safety exactly, but something that gave her courage, urged her onward. Then she took a deep breath, reached down—still keeping her eyes only on him—and slowly drew the front draping of her skirt to one side, revealing first her thighs, then the juncture above.
She didn’t look down, though, because if she did, she might stop. Just keep watching Brent. Keep pleasing him. His masculine gaze truly fueled her. Enough to make her pull the swath of yellow chiffon completely away. Enough to make her slowly part her legs for him.
His eyes narrowed at the sight and he looked more lust-filled than she’d ever seen him. She prayed she wasn’t imagining it, because without that, without honestly believing he desired her, she couldn’t do this. His heated expression made her spread farther, and farther still, until she knew she was fully displayed, not only for him, but for any other woman in the room who cared to glance over.
“Barbie,” he said, “place this tray between Jenna’s thighs.” He motioned to the fruit-and-chocolate tray, and Jenna accidentally held her breath as