What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [51]
And that’s when Brent said, “Aw, baby, I’m gonna come. Gonna come in your sweet pussy—hard.” His orgasmic strokes nearly lifted her from the pillows upon which she lay and she found herself reaching out, holding on to the cushions at her sides, trying to find purchase as he emptied into her.
Oh God. Oh wow.
Then he collapsed gently forward onto her body.
Over his shoulder, she saw Sasha and Barbie exchange lusty looks, as if maybe they finally needed some pleasure of their own—which in fairness, she could easily understand. And then they were gone, just like that, and Jenna sensed the entire room quietly emptying of all but her and Brent.
The fantasy was over. And she’d survived it.
Except—oh God, she truly couldn’t fathom the things she’d done.
She’d thought sex with Brent had felt like sex with a stranger—but it measured nothing compared to the things she’d done here tonight—or had done to her.
And yet . . . she had responded. With orgasm after amazing orgasm. Three. Dear God. She hadn’t known she could do that. As she rested her head more deeply in the plush pillows, she couldn’t quite decide how she felt about it all.
A long moment later, Brent rolled off her onto his side. He propped one fist beneath his head and rested his other hand on her stomach. It made her look down at her askew harem girl outfit, her breasts and pussy still on display. She felt brazen. But she liked the way his hand looked on her skin.
“How are you?” he asked, gazing down.
She tried to sort through it. “Aghast,” she finally replied.
“Don’t be. It was a beautiful thing to watch and take part in.”
She found herself shaking her head. “I’ve never . . . even thought about . . .”
“Shhh,” he said. “Doesn’t matter. It felt good. For you, tonight, that’s all that counts. Accepting that it felt good. And that you’re still the same person and that there was nothing wrong with it—no one got hurt; it was all about mutual pleasure.”
She took in his words—all were true. Her life would still go on. She was the same person she’d been before this.
But . . . was she? Or hadn’t something intrinsic changed inside her tonight? The real question, she decided, was how she felt about that and how she dealt with it. With secret shame or . . . secret satisfaction.
Brent opened his eyes to see Jenna in lovely disarray, curled against his body, her bare breasts pressed against his side.
Jesus God, she’d aroused the hell out of him. Sure, he could credit some of it to the other girls—any facilitator at the Hotel Erotique was super hot—but he knew himself and his body, and he knew most of his excitement tonight had come from Jenna’s willingness. He’d always enjoyed watching girls together, but other girls who came here wanted what they were getting. To watch Jenna open herself to pleasure like that, to think of how far away that openness had been just a couple of days ago—shit, that was what had had his cock about to explode like a stick of dynamite.
He liked this too much, being both a guide and facilitator at once. Or maybe it was having her within his command that was getting him so worked up. Usually when he was in this position, it was with a woman who liked being submissive and wanted to play out that fantasy. But with Jenna, he was making her submit. His dick hardened further just to think about that: her trust in him, the way she liked pleasing him.
Of course, he couldn’t make her be this submissive for long. The ultimate goal was to give her sexual freedom, and taking her through a light domination/submission process was only a means to an end.
And maybe that was why—when she opened her eyes, looking so fucking . . . ready to give, ready to submit some more—he left behind his plans, his scripted fantasies for her, and did something totally, completely selfish.
Or . . . maybe it wasn’t a hundred percent just for him. Maybe it was simply the next step in her journey. Maybe he was just taking a cue from her that would pleasure them both.
Either way, nothing could have