Free Switch (A BDSM Romance Novel) by Astrid Knowles Page A

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.
    Every single pose drew Henry’s attention, and her own, to a different part of her body, teasing her with an exquisite thoroughness, a slow heating that soon became a throbbing demand inside of her, a loud need that she knew to heat and moisten her core. She lost her shoes and socks, too, by the time Viola was done, and Henry’s bare chest was openly available for her examination, his unbuckled trousers low on his hips.
    “Jenna,” Viola asked, her voice all sugar and her cheeks unaffected. “Do you mind asking Amelia and Dominic to come in here?”
    “No problem, honey.” Jenna rose unsteadily to her feet and, with no care for the rest of her clothing, wandered hastily out of the hazy room to the bright, well lit café, her bra-clad breasts and bare feet on display for anyone who passed the store. Amelia and Dom were seated beside the large staircase, far from the lusty room that Jenna had just left. “Amelia, Viola says that she’d like you guys to go in now.” She called, a polite tone to her shaky voice as she nodded to Dom. “Don’t mind if I use your toilet, do you?”
    She hadn’t asked that in years, simply accepted that yes, she was free reign at Amelia’s, and no, she did not need to behave like a pupil asking teacher for permission. The slow seduction had scrambled her thoughts, and Jenna reverted back to her most basic of behaviours, missing Amelia’s smirk and Dom’s knowing grin as they stood.
    She swung the door closed behind her, but did not shut it, only stood before the wide mirror and swept her short hair behind her ears, running her fingers along the tops of her eyebrows as she glared at her flushed, sweaty face. The tap felt cold beneath her shaky, heated fingers, the water refreshing as she splashed it over her face.
    When she stood again, she jumped, a yelp loudly echoing around the room, cut short by the hand that tightly clamped over her mouth. Her eyes wide, Jenna stilled, relaxing as she caught sight of her companion in the mirror, desirous and focused as he took in her wide, startled, begging eyes and hollowed cheeks from his hand in her mouth, parting her lips. His free arm was wrapped around her, holding her arms to her sides. His coarse chest hair rubbed against her bared back.
    She whimpered against him, struggling slightly to feel the friction of his hard, unyielding body against her own. Her tongue snaked forwards, savouring the salty taste of his flesh and sucking deliberately the offending appendage as though it were another, the rhythmic suction coordinating with her demanding pussy as it clenched tighter, more wantonly as it begged her for something to fill it.
    She listened to it, the want, having no other choice in her worked up state other than to stand on tiptoe and rub against him, tilting her hips to rub his bulge coaxingly, locking gazes with his reflection as she wordlessly begged for it.
    He spun her, lifting her as easily as a ragdoll and placing her on the edge of the sparkling clean basin. She scooted back a little, feeling the hard edge beneath her buttocks, burrowing into the line where her bottom and thighs met. Henry’s hands held her, warm as he ground insistently against her clothed sex, his calloused fingers drawing scorching patterns along her ribcage. His panting breaths wound her tighter, and she jerked against him without grace or rhythm, her fumbling hands reaching out to scuffle with his jeans, frantically attempting to push them aside. He wore plain black bowers beneath, and Jenna fumbled ineffectively with them before Henry caught her wrists, placing them beside her.
    “Don’t move them.” He ordered, and Jenna immediately clutched her hands tight, refusing the move, or wobble off the surface as Henry moved