‘I don’t care.’
The funny thing was, neither did I; not really. Jasper did this to me. He made me care about nothing but his designs upon me.
I leaned forward. The branch was not so low that I could pivot at the waist, so I had to rest my breasts upon its rain-softened bark and push my bottom out.
‘Legs,’ he said, and I spread them obediently.
He stood between them, his hands gripping my thighs, and kissed me all over my neck and shoulders. In the course of this, he lifted my tiny skirt and ran his hands over my recently paddled bottom.
‘How’s that, hmm?’ he asked into my ear. ‘Still painful?’
‘A little, sir.’
‘It serves as a reminder,’ he said. ‘Teach you to behave. You were a good girl tonight. A very good girl. I’m going to show you how good.’
Through the rain and the leafy surroundings, I could see chinks of light from the houses bordering the square. I didn’t suppose we were visible from the windows, but all the same …
The voices of the smokers were still audible, though distant. A loud jazz band struck up, drowning them.
‘What if we’re caught?’ I whispered.
‘Nobody will give a fuck,’ said Jasper. ‘They’re artists. They don’t care about that kind of thing.’
‘I was thinking more of the press …’
‘There’s an unspoken rule. What goes on at a party stays at the party. Nobody would ever let them in otherwise.’
‘OK.’
I was reassured, which was just as well, with my bottom and pussy bare and Jasper undoing his button fly and nudging up against them.
He took hold of my hips and the next thing I knew was his thick cock pushing inside me. The angle was slightly awkward, but his hold on me set it to rights and he was fully sheathed before I could squeak at the suddenness of it.
‘There now,’ he said, with greedy relish. ‘Look at you, you little hussy, bent over a tree in the rain getting fucked from behind. That’s about your style, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Sore bum and all,’ he said, releasing one of my hips to smack it hard.
Thank goodness for blaring jazz.
‘Tell me you’re mine,’ he said.
‘I’m yours.’
‘That’s right.’
He had to hold my thighs at the front, bringing me up to my tiptoes, for the angle to work, but he made it right, made me hang on to the branch while he established a hard, punishing rhythm. I was his thing, his sex toy, with no other function than to lay myself open to him, and I fell gratefully into subspace, helped along by the way his pelvis slapped against my sore bottom.
He was able to move his fingers so that they pulled at the skin near my labia, stretching it wide open. My clit felt the wet breeze. I longed to rub it on something, even though the way Jasper massaged the skin around it sent powerful messages of pleasure through it. I needed a touch.
Jasper’s cock was rubbing against the sensitive spot inside me, though, in a way that almost made me forget my neglected clit. His angle shifted slightly and he took a deeper stroke, taking me firmly and assertively, never letting up the pace.
The branch creaked and my hair was sodden but none of that mattered.
Jasper, inside me, waking up the sleeping beast of my G-spot, was the only thing on my mind.
‘Getting it,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘hard.’
I pushed myself back on him, heedless of the bending bough. He was getting me there. I was nearly there. A low-seated wash of sensation was climbing higher and higher, creeping up into my belly. Soon it would take me over.
‘You’re going to come for me,’ he panted. ‘You are.’
I could imagine that this position was hard on him and the sooner I came, the better for his aching muscles. Really, how could I deny him?
‘Yes, sir,’ I affirmed. It was almost there. It was licking its way fast along all the pathways to pleasure.
‘Do it,’ he said. The tip of one finger brushed my clit.
I don’t think it was that that tipped me over, but the building pressure blew all at once, making me keen like a steam whistle. It was astonishingly strong, ripping through me and changing all the colours of the world for a moment.
Jasper chose that moment to lift my feet from the ground and hammer into me, making sounds of animal pain as his orgasm took hold of him.
Those sounds melded with my own whimpering, the steady hiss of the rain and the creaking, then the cracking of the branch.
I screamed as we both fell, pell-mell, into the undergrowth, Jasper landing on my back and winding me.
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Are you OK?’
I nodded, my breath still too far from my control to speak.
‘I’m sorry,’ he gasped. ‘I think I … miscalculated … there.’
He sat up, peeled me up from my flattened position and took me on his lap. I was filthy, covered in wet leaves, and his semen leaked out of me and on to his fancy-pants trousers. Getting home was going to be interesting.
‘Jasper,’ I said, when I could.
‘Darling?’
‘I’m f-f-freezing.’
‘God. Of course. Of course you are.’ He helped me to my feet. ‘We’ll get out of here.’
It was an interesting task, involving much creeping about and ducking under guy ropes, but we somehow managed to sidle around the edge of the marquee and escape through a service exit. The quickest of runs through the rain ensued until a lit taxi sign emerged from the murk and we were able to pile inside.
I felt like apologising to the driver for the state I was in, but he appeared unconcerned, striking up a conversation about the filthy weather without turning a hair.
Jasper agreed that it was indeed filthy, looking at me as he used the word, and smirking. As if things could be more obvious. He held me tight in his arms while I shivered the trip away, then as we crossed the interested territory of the hotel lobby.
I was never gladder to be out of the public eye than I was when I threw myself down on the bed and exclaimed, ‘Oh, my God.’
‘That was an adventure,’ said Jasper, shrugging off his soaked jacket and getting to work on his cufflinks. ‘You look shagged out. I’ll run a bath.’
The water was bliss, hot and steaming and scented with a thousand expensive ingredients. I lay back in Jasper’s arms and shut my eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, clasping his hands underneath my breasts. ‘You can’t take me anywhere. I’m like a dog on heat around you. Can’t seem to help myself.’
‘That dress wasn’t exactly calculated to dampen ardour,’ I said.
‘No. No, it wasn’t. Still, I think we got away with it. I feel bad about that tree, though.’
‘So do I.’
‘I’ll make a contribution to their gardening fund.’
I laughed and put a blob of foam on his nose.
‘That’s the solution. Throw some money.’
‘Don’t make me out to be some kind of fat cat.’
‘Why not?’
‘I wish I was. Those bastards aren’t going to fund the film.’
I sat up, sloshing bubbly water around my hips and turned to face him.
‘No? Why not?’
‘They won’t wear you as lead actress. But I don’t want anybody else. You’re my Walters. I’m your Dunraven. That’s the only way it can be.’
‘Oh, but Jasper, it isn’t. Not really. And besides, I still don’t think I want to be an actor. It’s not my thing.’
‘But I want you to,’ he said.
‘There isn’t a lot I won’t do for you. You know that. You can make me do so many things I never imagined I would. But you can’t make me be another person.’
‘I don’t want you to be another person.’
‘Well, that’s good. Because I’m not, and never will be, a performer. It’s just not me. You can look at my bare bottom as much as you like, but it’s not for general consumption
.’
He laughed, and I relaxed. I’d been worried he might try the hard sell and I wasn’t sure how much of that I could take before I gave in.
‘Well, yeah,’ he said. ‘That’s a very good point. I’m not sure I want the whole world perving on your gorgeous bum.’
‘Right then. Get back to those guys and tell them you’ll cast a big name.’
‘Are you ordering me about?’
‘No, of course not.’
He pinched my ear.
‘I should hope not. Come on. Scrub up. If I call them now, they might not be too drunk yet. Or, hopefully, just drunk enough to sign on the dotted line.’
* * *
I lolled on the bed in my fluffy hotel bathrobe with a glass of wine from the minibar, while Jasper got his phone out.
‘What’s this?’ he said, frowning at the display. ‘Message from Ludo, at the office. He’s working late.’
I examined my fingernails. How lovely they had looked before the party and now they were all ragged from clinging to that branch. Good manicures were wasted on the likes of me. I was definitely a low-maintenance kind of girl.
‘“Hi, Jasper, I thought you ought to see this before it’s everywhere,”’ read Jasper. ‘And there’s a link. It’s like one of those spam messages, isn’t it? But I’m pretty sure it’s legit. OK, I’ll click. Here goes.’
Something about the way his body stiffened drew my eye straight to him. He was pale and, when he raised his eyes to mine, they were glassy with shock.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘What is it?’ I scrambled off the bed and reached for the phone.
‘I’m really sorry,’ he said, handing it to me. ‘This is my fault.’
Beneath the banner of a well-known celeb gossip website was a series of fuzzy photographs. But, while they might be indistinct, Jasper’s profile was clearly visible. And so was my bottom, sticking right out, and with unmistakable bruising where the hairbrush had exacted its vengeance earlier on.
‘They can’t do that, can they?’ I said in a panic. ‘Privacy and all that. They can’t.’
‘I think they already have, love.’
Chapter Ten
‘Is it much further?’
We were two hours out of London, speeding across flat land interspersed with windmills and bulb fields. It was unfamiliar country to me and I’d never seen so many dikes. In fact, I don’t think I’d even seen one dike. East Anglia seemed to be dike central, though. To make up for the lack of hills, presumably.
‘Not far now,’ he said.
‘Does she live in a windmill?’
He turned to me with a curl of his lip.
‘Ha-ha, no, she doesn’t.’
I was nervous for a million reasons. We were meeting Jasper’s mother, a full month before the proposed Christmas date, because she could provide a haven away from curious eyes.
We’d both had to turn our phones off. They’d gone crazy.
I’d left a message with Mum and Dad not to worry. Of course, they’d see the pictures – not of their own accord, because they rarely went online, but no doubt they’d be alerted to them by well-meaning friends. Or ill-meaning enemies.
The only saving grace was that the pictures were deemed ‘unsuitable for a family paper’ – but that wouldn’t stop the gossip mags printing them, of course. Jasper had tried for an injunction but it seemed to be too late. The fact that we had been in a public place, at a public event, meant that we could hardly claim invasion of privacy.
We were just going to have to suck it up. But not today. Today we were in hiding.
‘What if we get arrested?’ I asked for the dozenth time.
‘We won’t get arrested,’ said Jasper, but he didn’t sound as confident as he usually did.
‘We might. Outraging public decency.’
‘Darling, whatever happens, we’ll be fine. Slap on the wrist at most.’
‘I could lose my job.’
‘Not if you work for me.’
‘Oh, Jasper.’
‘Seriously. Even if you don’t want to act, I’m going to need a historical researcher for the film. I’ll pay the going rate.’
‘I like working at the museum.’
‘You’ll like working for me even more. Think of the staff incentive scheme we could dream up.’
‘That’s what’s got us into this pickle in the first place. Honestly, Jasper, you can’t do what you like when you like. There are laws.’
He sighed. ‘You’re such a good citizen. You respect authority.’
‘You know I do.’
‘All authority,’ he clarified. ‘Not just mine.’
‘Not true. I don’t respect authoritarian dickheads.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘No. I hope I wouldn’t have been all over Hitler, for instance.’
‘So stand up for what you believe in. Don’t apologise for your sexuality, Sarah. Own it. Don’t let anyone put you down for it.’
‘I’m not going to. I’m just saying that there’s a law against having sex in public places and, if we break it, there are consequences.’
‘A fine, a caution.’ Jasper shrugged. ‘It’s hardly life-ruining stuff. Don’t agonise.’
‘Do you seriously not care that all this is out in public? People might be labelling you an abuser right now. You might never get backing for another film.’
‘Yeah, like Roman Polanski didn’t.’
Good point. And Jasper’s actions were a million miles from that.
‘That’s wrong,’ I said. ‘The Polanski thing, I mean. You’re just a guy enjoying a consensual sex life with an adult … in a slightly illegal setting.’
‘Exactly. It’s nothing, Sarah. People with any sense will realise that.’
‘It’s just the bruises on my bum that people might want accounted for.’
He shrugged.
‘You can tell them what you want about that. You fell off a horse. Whatever.’
‘Is that what you want me to say?’
He threw up his hands for a moment. Lucky those East Anglian roads were so damn straight.
‘Sarah, for God’s sake, do you want it in triplicate? I don’t care what people think of us. If you want to tell them how you got the bruises, fine. I’m beyond wanting to keep this a silly giggly secret any more. BDSM is a perfectly legitimate sexual style enjoyed by consenting adults. It’s time everyone stopped being so immature about it.’
‘I know. I agree. But do you think society’s ready for that kind of honesty?’
‘I don’t give a fuck about society.’
I really think he meant it, too. I sat back and enjoyed the view. Well, I didn’t really. There wasn’t much of one. But eventually we turned off the straight road on to a track through brown field after brown field until a poplar-lined driveway rose from the flatness and swallowed us up.
His mother’s house was no less impressive than his own – a big rambling red-brick place with a clock tower.
She came out to the door for us and I was surprised by her. For some reason I’d been expecting Miss Havisham, but she looked far younger than she had any right to and was dressed casually in skinny jeans and a slinky jumper with animal print scarf. In fact, she dressed more youthfully than I did, and got away with it better than I could too. Perhaps she was some sort of stepsister or cousin or something? But no.
‘Mum,’ said Jasper, bounding up and squashing her into a hug.
‘Idiot boy,’ she said dryly, releasing herself. ‘What were you thinking of?’
Uh oh. Perhaps I should stay in the car.
But she turned to me and smiled in the most welcoming way imaginable.
‘Do accept my apologies for bringing this one into the world, won’t you?’ she said. ‘I’m afraid the common-sense gene passed him by.’
The reference to genes made me think of his twin, and my answering smile was probably a bit wobbly and weirdly over-sympathetic.
‘Oh, I think he has plenty to compens
ate for that,’ I said. ‘Hello. Thanks for inviting me.’
‘A pleasure. I’m Lavinia.’
‘Sarah.’
We shook hands and came out of the dreary November chill into the sumptuous warmth of the front sitting room. She and Jasper had near-identical taste, I thought, approving of the woodwork and soft furnishings.
‘What a lovely room,’ I said.
‘Thank you. Jasper has a lovely house too, as I’m sure you know. Full of bedrooms. If only he could stay inside them.’
‘Yes, yes, I know,’ said Jasper irritably. ‘It was stupid. But it’ll blow over.’
‘Well,’ said Lavinia, putting another log on the fire. ‘I’m sure you’re right. I’ll fetch tea. You must be gasping.’
She left the room and Jasper came to perch beside me on the sofa. He took my hand.
‘See, I told you she wouldn’t bite. She likes you.’
‘Do you think?’
‘Love, if I brought Lady Macbeth home she’d like that too. She’s desperate for me to settle down.’
‘What happened to your father?’ I asked, seeing a giant portrait of an even younger-looking Lavinia on the arm of a handsome man with Jasper’s smile.
‘He killed himself,’ said Jasper, matter-of-factly.
‘Oh, God. I’m sorry. God, you never said … you never tell me anything.’
‘I’m telling you now. I thought you’d ask, actually.’
‘I’ve always meant to. Just …’
Why hadn’t I asked before? We were always in the heat of the moment, Jasper and I. Always entangled in the now. We’d spoken only glancingly of our pasts. I could see why he was like that, but why was I? It was because I was scared, I realised in a rush. Scared of knowing him so well that I couldn’t un-know him, couldn’t ever step back from him. Jasper was like an abyss that swallowed one whole. You either stayed out or fell in.
‘Just what?’
I lowered my voice to a whisper, without quite knowing why.
‘I’ve been waiting, I think.’
‘Waiting?’
‘To be sure of you.’
‘You aren’t sure of me?’
‘I daren’t presume …’
‘Oh, you … come here.’ He pulled me closer and kissed me. ‘Presume,’ he said. ‘OK? Presume away, anything you like.’
‘Don’t say that,’ I said. ‘Tell me. Tell me what I can rely on.’
By His Command Page 12