Jasons fingers suddenly dug into my flesh, from gentle to bruising in an instant.
I whispered, Yes.
Is that the game we want to play? he asked, and his voice had changed, too, deeper, darker, for lack of a better word.
I do, Nathaniel said.
Jasons fingers pressed harder into my thighs, so that I cried out, and told him, Enough, enough.
Thats her safe word, Nathaniel said.
Ive already stopped, Jason said.
But I havent stopped, have I? Nathaniel whispered.
No, I said, voice breathy. He was holding tight enough to be trapped, but not quite tight enough to hurt. It was a fine edge to walk, but Nathaniel knew how to walk it.
Do I rip the panties off, or take them off? Jason asked.
Rip, Nathaniel said, and it was almost a growl.
I said, Please.
Please what? Jason asked.
Off, I whispered.
He ripped the satin panties in one harsh move that jerked my body. Nathaniel tightened his grip on me, until it was hard to breathe.
I whispered, Ease up.
He eased until he was back where hed been. Tight, but not too tight. Trapped, but not hurt. Of all forms of sex that Id found, BDSM took the most trust, the most communication.
Jason pushed my skirt up until he bared me to the light from the kitchen. How rough can I be? There was no sex in the tone of his voice; he was truly asking.
Start easy, Nathaniel said, shell let you know.
I realized that Jason had never given me oral sex before. Id gone down on him, but hed never had a chance to return the favor. He used his hands to spread my thighs wider. He let me feel the strength in his hands, but not as hard as hed been when I told him to ease up. The sensation of being bound by the sheer strength of him was amazing. There was no need of ropes or chains when you could feel how terribly strong they both were.
Jasons hands were harsh, buTHE leaned in toward me as if he were going to give the gentlest of kisses. The juxtaposition of the harsh and the gentle left my mind not knowing how to react. Then his tongue slid across me, and there was no conflict, there was only sensation.
He dug his fingers into that space inside my thighs, so harsh, I cried out. He forced my legs farther apart. Nathaniel lifted me. I could feel his shoulders and chest flex until I was suddenly off the ground. It allowed Jason to spread my legs more, use the strength of his fingers to force me wider.
Jason plunged his tongue inside me, sudden and abrupt. I cried out for him, and he leaned back enough to gaze up the line of my body.
It was as if I could feel the weight of his gaze, because it made me look down at the same time he looked up.
God, he said, that look.
What look? I managed to say before Nathaniel squeezed harder and I had no breath to talk.
That look, Jason whispered, and lowered his mouth to my body. He kissed there as he had kissed my mouth, maybe a dozen times before. Most men dont kiss between your legs the same way they kiss your mouth, but Jason did. He kissed me just as thoroughly, as completely, as expertly. Then he began to do things that you couldnt do when you kiss a mouth. He licked and explored, trying different things, judging his progress by the sounds I made, and how much I writhed.
He didnt just find the spot and stay on it like it was a button; he explored every inch of me, biting the inside of my thighs between attentions.
Nathaniel held me through it all, sometimes so tight I couldnt breathe, sometimes just tight enough to let me feel his strength, and then he squeezed hard enough that my gun cut into me, and it felt as if he were trying to crush me. I cried out while I had breath, then all I could do was writhe.
Jason drew back enough to ask, Am I doing that, or you?