When she was with Jasper like this, she was very much grounded in the present. No anguishing over things that had happened in the past, nor fretting about things that might come in the future. And to have that time was a gift, pure and simple.
She raced through her key lime pie, but Jasper took his damn sweet time, talking to her between bites, a devious look on his face, no doubt knowing precisely how horny and vaguely uncomfortable she was. And when he’d finally finished, he ordered her to come sit in front of him on the edge of the dining table where he drew the skirt of her dress up to her waist and stripped her underwear off, emptied her body of his toys and then quickly drew on a condom so he could heave her into his lap, and onto his cock.
Her nipples rubbed against her dress and his tux as he urged her to ride him, her wrists trapped behind her back by one of his strong hands. It wasn’t long before she was crying out her pleasure, and then slumping against him as he poured his own climax into her. There was no way the actual party would be so memorable.
***
He shoved his briefcase at Ada, knowing it wasn’t her fault but also knowing she wouldn’t take it personally. Fuck all had it been a hellish day. The Lowenstein deal had fallen through, and one of his most promising associates had tendered her resignation.
He went straight to his room, not bothering to stop in and say hello to Keyne, and set out what he’d need. He wanted to hurt her, really hurt her. Not in a taking-his-anger-out-on-her-hide kind of way, because that was against every rule he’d ever been taught. He wasn’t angry at her. But anyone who said kink wasn’t a good stress reliever was either lying or a moron. He spared a grateful thought to the universe for bringing him someone who he could share this with, who would understand and delight in the way he liked best to unwind after a crazy-making day.
Clover clamps to get her in the right head space, flogger to warm her up, the cane to finish her off. She’d blanch when she saw it laid out on the bed and he’d relish the way her eyes would get big and round, the way her heart would thump hard behind her ribcage. She’d be a mess, a glorious mess when he was done with her, and then he would clean her up, make her shine and sparkle with drowsy satisfaction. But first, he’d wreck her and he’d relish the wrecking.
He finished laying out everything he’d need for their session before he went to find her. He stalked through the house, hunting her and she a clueless woodland creature in for the surprise of her life. She was in her room with her headphones on, cascade of red hair swaying with each bop of her head. He hesitated for a split second. She was having a good day. Even now they weren’t so frequent, did he want to make her suffer?
But yes, he did and in the end, she’d enjoy it. He’d make her come like a shooting star and coddle her afterward. He could use some coddling himself. But first the filthy sex.
He slid up behind her, careful to keep his approach a surprise. It was possible he was enjoying this too much, delighting in the stealth of sneaking up on his poor, unsuspecting prey. While he tiptoed across the rug, the entire scenario played out in his mind.
He would cut off her greeting with a hand across her eyes and one clamped tight over her mouth, his arms trapping hers by her sides. When she issued a muffled noise of surprise under his hand, he’d be half hard.
“Listen to me. I am in a foul mood, not to be trifled with. We’re going to go to my room and I’m going to take it out on your ass. You’re in for some serious hurt and you’re going to take it all like the obedient little girl you are. I don’t want any complaining or begging. You’re going to take everything until I’m finished with you. Nod if you understand.”
Her head would go up and down under his hands and it would remind him of how delicate and small she was, how easy it would be to harm her if he wanted to. But that was part of the fun, part of the challenge, part of the high. Knowing he could do irreparable damage and being in control enough not to. He’d take a deep breath with the back of her head pressed into his stomach and remind himself that today, he would need to be especially careful.
He couldn’t fucking wait. Catching her headphones mid-bop, he slid them off her head onto the desk and—
Promptly found himself facedown in the carpet, his arm wrenched up between his shoulder blades, and a knee threatening to dig into his kidney.
“Keyne . . .” Her name came out muffled by the thick fiber of the carpet, which his face was well and truly mashed into. But then there was sweet relief in the form of his arm being released, and her weight coming off his back. Then she tugged at his shoulder to urge him onto his back.
“Oh my god. Jasper, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Truth was, he was both bemused and tickled. Apparently Alice had done a bang-up job teaching his little pixie how to kick some ass. He’d just never anticipated it being his. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I—”
“Took me down pretty hard? Yeah, you did.”
He smiled up at her, trying to reassure her, make her round-with-panic eyes and pinched mouth subside back into her usual sweet expression. While he wasn’t wild about having been so summarily and thoroughly dispatched, it did ease his mind about Keyne’s ability to defend herself should the need arise. Not to mention that if she really didn’t want to be with him, it appeared she would have no trouble demonstrating it.
“My shoulder will be a little sore for a few days—thanks for using my left one, by the way—but other than that, I’m fine. Swear.” And he’d remember that if he wanted to play this kind of game with her in the future, he’d be well-advised to give the girl some warning, lest he end up with her shin across his throat or a knee to the groin.
“Okay.” She didn’t totally look like she believed him.
“You want to try this again? I had some pretty fantastic ideas about what I was going to do with you.”
Her red hair waved around her shoulders as she nodded, looking more curious than apologetic. Good. Levering himself up from the floor, he dusted himself off, rolled his shoulder and shot his cuffs.
“Okay. But you’re going to have to remember not to take me out. If that happened again, my pride might be wounded.”
Pink lips pursed into an amused smirk. Brat. “Couldn’t have that, now could we, Master?”
He usually loved it when she teased him, but for some reason today—maybe because it had been such a god-awful ten hours—it riled him instead, and the growl rose in his throat. “Oh, little girl, your ass is grass.”
And then she smiled at him. She tried not to, god knows she tried, but the edges of her mouth tucked into her cheeks and amusement pressed her lips together. She might laugh at him.
A spark of ire ignited in his brain. “And what exactly is so funny?”
“Nothing, Master.”
“That’s not how it looks to me.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth and blinked, trying to contain herself but she was close to losing it. The spark moved closer to the tinder pile that had been gathering all day. He was going to lose his shit any second.
“I—I can’t believe you said that to me, that’s all.”
Her laughter was choking her and for a second, the bonfire caught light. But just as he was about to blaze out of control, she lost it first and started to giggle.
Giggle.
Not laugh, not cackle, not snort. Giggle. And somehow that small sound bubbling up from her chest while she tried so hard to stifle it, it doused the flames inside him. He cracked.
“Are you kidding me with this?” The thrust of his chin and his inflection were meant to convey he’d given up on their games, and she took advantage, her giggles turning maniacal and she fell on the floor. He couldn’t help it with her rolling around, her hands clutching at her midsection and her hair flying crazy around her face, pink with delight.
It was impossible to be pissed off when there was so much beautiful s
illiness right in front of him. Maybe that’s another thing that had been missing from the other women he’d been with. Some of them had been funny, sure; he liked women with a sense of humor. But unrepentant silliness like this? The only girl who’d ever let him see them like this was Keyne. Memories of her running through sprinklers, splashing offboard when they’d anchored the yacht for a swim, finding her crouched in a cupboard when he’d deigned to play hide-and-seek with her and Gavin, it all came crashing back.
He’d missed this part of her, this exuberant and yes, silly side of her. It had taken him long enough, but he’d managed to get her to be hysterical with laughter. He’d sew that merit badge on his Guardian vest later, but for now, he wanted to be inside that elation. He could beat her—would, later and they’d both enjoy it—but at the moment he wanted to join her, let her cast a ray of sunshine over his dark and serious life. And what the hell did any of it matter anyway?
They’d hire more associates, at least one would be just as good as the person who’d left, and they’d stick around. The Lowenstein deal was shot, but there would be other, better deals. And for now, he had Keyne. She was so fucking beautiful, and he needed to be with her.
He dropped to his knees and crawled over her, taking her wrists in hand and planting them on either side of her head. As soon as he touched her, she stilled. She was looking up at him, still all smiles but her eyes had gone glossy and she pressed her wrists against his hands, testing him, testing his strength and his power over her.
Narrowing his eyes, he let the side of his mouth kick up. “You know you’re just delaying the inevitable, right?”
“Counting on it,” was her breathy answer, complete with a tilt of her hips, an invitation.
He kissed her then, a kiss that started out sweet and silly. A nip on her lower lip and a tease of his tongue. It didn’t stay innocent for long, though, not with her willing surrender to him. It didn’t become angry or punishing though, those urges had been extinguished by her sweetness, her goddamn giggles, but it veered toward intense. In that moment he was intensely grateful for her. Thankful she’d come into his life in this way, no matter how fucked-up the circumstances.
The way it had been made possible was out of his control, but what had happened since wasn’t. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything to deserve her. As Deja said, he was a wolf. Prided himself on it. But deep down he wasn’t a bad guy. Bored, sure, willing to take up a challenge because just this side of legal was fun. It tested him in a way nothing else did. But Keyne . . . she took the edge off. Not in a dull way, not in a disappointing, trying-to-tame-him way that would backfire. But when he was with her, it didn’t seem so important anymore to walk the edge of a cliff he could fall off.
He wasn’t bored or edgy, impatient or frustrated. She made him . . . happy. And fuck if he’d drag her over whatever edge he’d been teetering over. She deserved better than that; solid ground to stand on and he’d give it to her so she could roll around in her giggle fits and ecstasy and not worry about falling over the edge.
He kissed her more, kissed her until she was breathy and strung out, writhing under him because she wanted more, was begging for it.
“Please, Jasper, please.”
Usually he’d make her spell it out, what exact kind of debauchery she wanted, but not today. He ran a thumb over her cheek, a wash of blush following the contact and covering the pale spray of freckles. She was so pretty, and all his.
“All right, sweetheart, don’t fret. I won’t let you down.”
He stood and offered her a hand, her small fingers sliding into his grip. When she got to her feet, he pulled her close with a hand firm at the small of her back, kissed her again, and threaded fingers in her hair. It wasn’t easy to pull away. He’d have to do this in stages because more than anything he wanted to be touching her, letting her sparkle magic smudge all over him like it might polish him up.
He’d never understood how Keyne and Gavin had operated, how they could spend so much time together but never feel like it was too much. Now he did. He couldn’t be childish about it, but goddamn did he want her by his side all the time in everything he did.
But having her in his bed, pressing inside her would do. It would have to. He stripped her slowly, teasing her by doing one button of her shirt, removing a sock and then taking out an earring. Undoing the snap on her jeans before coming back to her shirt. Utter chaos and she laughed at him, trying to guess what he’d go for next.
She was naked too soon, that particular game over, and while he’d normally set on her, liking the contrast between her willing, exposed flesh and his clothed shell, he wanted to do something for her. Something sweet.
“Would you like to undress me?”
Her eyes shone back at him and his heart dropped into his stomach, splashing into a pool of god, what the fuck was that? Adoration? That wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with. Yes, he’d liked the women he’d been with, had been infatuated with some of them, and charmed by others, but that was no measure for what he felt for the pixie in front of him. He adored this girl.
“Yes, please. Master.”
“No master if you don’t want to. Jasper and Keyne this time. Do you want to take my clothes off, Keyne?”
It occurred to him occasionally this game they played created distance in some ways while it fostered intimacy in so many others. But did Keyne want him purely because he was her master? Would any other competent dominant have done? It wasn’t something he could ask her, reveal such a deep insecurity, because the idea she might say no made his heart stop.
Would she refuse to say his name because that made it too real? Because when he did these things to her it didn’t matter that it was him, but only some domineering, sadistic lover? That would crush him, and anxiety gnawed at him while he awaited her answer.
“Yes, Jasper.” She said it shyly and he knew he’d be hard by the time she stripped him. He willed himself to stand still as her small hands went to work, button after button and shuffle of fabric until he was standing there as naked as she was.
She looked him up and down, eyes darting everywhere. This was the most naked he’d ever felt and it occurred to him that she subjected herself to this all the time. Her eyes were curious and appreciative and though tension was humming through him, he urged her on. “Go on, you can touch me.”
Tentative at first, she laid fingertips on his biceps. Not that he didn’t let her touch him—he loved it when she touched him—but this was different. Her touch grew bolder and her hands wandered, she stepped around him to run nails down his back. In reaction to the light touch, his muscles flexed, and he heard her breath. She liked what she saw.
He didn’t worry much about his lovers’ approval of his body. He knew he was in good shape and had won the genetic lottery with a form women seemed to like, but it seemed important that Keyne liked how he looked.
She pressed her front to his back and he could feel her breasts, her hard nipples against his back. Slipping a hand around his hip, she took his cock in a firm grasp, stroked him a couple times and he was close to losing his mind. He wanted to see her, wanted to grab her, wanted to tell her what to do, but he let her have her game, this one time. Let her experience for once a manifestation of how powerful a hold she had on him.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on how her hand felt wrapped around him, how she wanted to touch him, the way she wrapped her other hand around his hip to steady him as if she knew without her he would fall. He’d been falling and he didn’t even know it until he’d had to catch her.
His breath was coming hard and he swallowed. “If you want me inside you, you’d be best advised to stop that.”
The motion of her hand ceased, but she didn’t release him, left her small warm hand circling him as if trying to decide what she wanted most. If she wanted to get him off this way, he wouldn’t argue, but he’d much rather busy himself in her tigh
t, warm cunt.
After an interminable minute, she let him go and—of all things to do—smacked his ass. “Get on the bed, big boy.”
The patent ridiculousness of it made him snort. “I don’t think so, little girl. I gave you an inch and you’re taking a mile. You get your ass on the bed. Now.”
He grabbed her arm and hauled her over, pushing her playfully onto the bed and falling on her, kissing whatever piece of her he could get his mouth on. He wrangled her into a straddle on top of him and she wiggled, settling his dick in between her cheeks.
He should have her on top more often. A curtain of hair fell in unruly waves around her face, her small breasts were high and picturesque on her chest. Beautiful. After rolling on a condom, he grabbed her by the hips and guided her onto his cock, his way eased by how wet she was. Her hips rocked against him, rubbing her clit against his pelvis and he tightened his stomach muscles to give her a better surface to work herself on. God she was sexy riding him like this. He tightened his fingers but let her set the speed and soon she was panting over him.
“Go on, Tinker Bell. I want to see you come. Come whenever you’re ready.”
Her fingers wove into the hair on his chest and a breath slid between his teeth as she tugged in time with her thrusts. Her eyes closed and her head dropped back as a series of small moans and approval dropped from her mouth. “Oh, yes, god, Jasper, please, yes.”
When she came it wasn’t the violent, consuming, screaming kind he could drag from her at his harshest, but this was sweet, happy, affectionate. He wished her gentle motions were enough, that he wouldn’t have to ruin the moment by rolling her on her back and going at her hard. He considered lifting her off and cuddling her, sacrificing his own satisfaction to demonstrate how much he loved her, what he was willing to give up for her. But that wouldn’t be necessary.
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