Chapter Twenty

June

Death threats ought to have been effective when a person could beat the crap out of someone twice her size. But somehow, Jasper seemed to know when to take her seriously, and when to bend the rules even when she herself wasn’t always sure.

She’d threatened him with death if he did anything special for her graduation. He’d agreed he wouldn’t, went as far as to pinky swear at her behest. And then . . . Well, one could make the argument inviting Leisl to the ceremony and out to dinner afterward wasn’t really special. Jasper had, in fact, been urging her to spend more time with Leisl, more time with her friends, even though all she wanted to do was spend time in bed with him.

Or not even in bed. They still went to the gym every weekend, they still worked side by side in the evenings. She wanted every second she could have with him because even his proximity made her happy. Jasper being nearby made her feel like there was the possibility of being whole again. Or at least of having learned to function enough to pretend to be whole.

She turned around in the white lawn chair to find Jasper’s craggy face in the audience. It was easy because Leisl still had her lace parasol open above her head. And oh, boy was she getting stares for that. As was Jasper. Of course everyone probably thought he was dating Leisl. And that was fine. If she had to pick someone for Jasper to date—that wasn’t her—she’d pick Leisl. Leisl wasn’t his usual type, but that was probably a good thing. Leisl was fun, and Jasper needed more fun in his life. She’d make sure he got it.

Keyne waved, and both Jasper and Leisl waved back. Jasper was stone-faced and dignified, and to other people he might not look like he was enjoying himself. She knew better; this was an act because he was so god-awful terrified of what would happen if someone found out about them. Leisl was far more enthusiastic, bouncing in her seat and almost beaning someone’s grandma with her parasol.

Though her heart was heavy because she could feel the loss of her family and Gavin more sharply than usual, she was also buoyed by the love coming from her cheering section. Plus, Alice had given her a present at her lesson a few days ago: a Tinker Bell figurine who was wearing boxing gloves. She had no idea where Alice had found it, but she’d been so delighted, she hadn’t cared. Especially when Alice had punched her arm—not lightly—and said, “You know who to call if any of those fresh-ass preppy boys in New Haven bother you.”

Yes, she did. She might’ve lost her family by blood, but there were people who cared about her, who wanted to see her succeed and were proud when she did. She was so busy looking back and smiling at Jasper and Leisl, she almost missed when the headmistress called her name.

“Tallulah Keyne O’Connell.”

She stood and made her way to the stage, her white gown billowing in the breeze, but her cap pinned securely in her hair, thanks to Ada. It was silly to be so pleased when she got that piece of rolled-up parchment into her hands, but as she accepted it with one hand and shook the hand of her headmistress with the other, she let herself be happy, feel accomplished and capable.

And she let herself wave at Jasper while she clutched the diploma to her chest. Yes, Leisl was right beside him, and they’d both stood so she could see them clearly, but she only had eyes for Jasper, and he for her. Sometimes his stony features could mask his feelings but not today. The pride and the gratification and the . . . yeah, she’d call that love on his face were almost too much to bear.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, her classmates’ names read out, speeches made, gales of polite applause. Then it was over, and she could file out with the rest of her classmates to the part of the playing field where family pictures would be taken, flowers handed over. They could all keep those things. There was only one thing her heart desired, and he was coming right for her, single-mindedly weaving through the crowd to get to her.

Though he was cautious about touching her in public, they could safely indulge today and she would take every advantage of it. Jasper circled his big strong arms around her and nearly lifted her off the ground. And just when she thought she couldn’t get any happier, he whispered in her ear, “I’m so proud of you, Tinker Bell. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I love you.” Followed by a kiss on her cheek with his sandpaper stubble grazing against her, she could’ve swooned. Instead, she hugged him back, tight as she could, and tried not to cry.

***

Hours later, he kissed down her stomach, traced her navel with his tongue. Hell would have its doors wide open for him when he died, but at this second, he didn’t give a fuck. She was too damn delicious.

“Jasper?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

His murmur was buried in the hollow her hipbone created, and he nipped the crest before soothing the bite with a lick and a suck.

Keyne ran her hands over his hair—it was too short and thick for her to get her fingers through it, although he might have to grow it out, if only to feel her touches against his scalp. She was so gentle, soft . . . loving. “Can I ask you for something?”

“You said you didn’t want a graduation present.”

Her midsection contracted with a laugh as he continued to tease her skin with the movements of his mouth.

“I didn’t want a thing. I want something else.”

“I would be hard-pressed to say no.” She’d finished up with high honors after a rocky start to the year and she was headed to Yale for god’s sake. What more could a person ask for, never mind she’d still been wading through grief for most of this year?

“You’re going to think it’s weird.”

Heaven help him, his ears perked up. When Keyne wasn’t busting her ass on her finals, she’d been reading up on kink and took it as seriously as any of her classes. She was voracious, and wanted to try everything. Well, not everything, but enough things that it made him dizzy with the possibilities. “Or I’m going to think it’s awesome.”

The latter was far more likely. He’d done his utmost to let her lead the way, telling him things she wanted to try, encouraging her to ask any and all questions. Sometimes they ended up not trying a thing at all, but just talking about it. Then again, sometimes Keyne ended up in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder on their way to his bedroom.

“Would it be okay if I . . .” She took a breath so deep it swelled her belly under his lips. “Could I . . .”

Jasper stopped his nuzzling and looked up at her. She’d never been so reluctant to ask for what she wanted, and he’d done his best to never discourage her from anything, even if at the end of the day he said no. What on earth had her so nervous?

“I know we talked about how there were different things people could call each other, and sometimes it tells you what kind of, I don’t know, level their relationship is? But sometimes it’s more of a nickname, or, you know, a way to let your partner know the scene is starting, or . . .”

She fumbled for a few minutes, reciting things she’d learned from the books and the websites she’d been using for research, and he let her. It might’ve been condescending of him and Keyne would punch him if she ever knew, but he loved to hear his little kink encyclopedia rattle off facts and theories. And if it took her some meandering in a place she was comfortable with like book knowledge instead of her own feelings, so be it. She’d find her way to what she wanted to say and he’d give her the space to do it.

“And anyway, I was wondering if it would be okay with you if I . . . if I . . .” He could see the tightening of her jaw and the pulse of her throat as she swallowed. “If I could call you Master.”

There they went again. Could his brain not have picked something more suave than bagpipes? Not to mention he’d never be able to go to the Highland Games without getting hard ever again.

Keyne rolled her lips between her teeth, and when she let them go, they were wet. If the girl had held a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, she couldn’t have killed him more effectively.

“Jasper?”

God, how long had he kept her waiting? She was probably losing her mind, judging by how nervous she’d been to ask him. Her fingers had ceased their stroking and were now digging in at the base of his skull.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. You . . . threw me a little.”

Her perfect mouth screwed up, and he could tell she was about to take it back. Don’t take it back.

“If that’s something you’d like to do, I would . . .” Be so happy I might die? Feel like a goddamn king? Never ever let you go? He wanted to say those things, tell her how hard that made his heart beat up against his ribs, but he also didn’t want her to not change her mind if she found the actual doing didn’t make her feel as good as she thought it would.”. . . be open to you trying it. Give it a whirl, and you know, if you like it, fine, and if you don’t, no bigs.”

Keyne’s face got that pixie look—the mischievous, cat-ate-the-canary one. The one that led the people who wrote the legends to be wary of the tricksy creatures. “Did you seriously say ‘no bigs’?”

He wanted to bury his face in her stomach and shake his head, because yes, that fumbling, awkward attempt at faux casual had been utterly ridiculous. That was something her friends would say to each other, not an example he should set when they were having a serious conversation about serious matters.

“I believe I did. What of it?”

“‘What of it’?” Oh, her impressions of him were getting better every day, and it simultaneously made him want to laugh and take her over his knee. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I called you Master?”

She was teasing him, and he did not appreciate it. “My feelings are entirely neutral on the matter of what you call me. As long as you do it respectfully, the rest is vocabulary.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“You’re such a liar. I can tell. You think you’re the only one who pays attention, but I do, too. I know you.”

God that was sweet of her, but he almost wished it weren’t true. He hoped she hadn’t noticed how much he’d wanted her. But honestly, expecting some magical switch to flip when a girl had a birthday was bullshit. She looked the same, she acted the same, but now all of a sudden she was an adult? He’d take it, but hell was that stupid.

He was still formulating a response when she shifted her hands to cradle his jaw and run her thumbs across his cheeks. “You can have it if you want it, Jasper. I want to. You’re always so careful about giving me what I want, what’s best for me, trying not to let what you want have anything to do with it. But you’re allowed to want things, too. So let me give this to you.”

His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. “You’ve already given me far more than you should have. And being careful with you is my job. I shouldn’t even be—”

Here. He shouldn’t be here, lying between her thighs, resting his head on her stomach. He shouldn’t have taken so much from her, but since he had, making sure she could make choices without what her corrupter wanted getting factored in was the least he could do for her.

With no warning, there was a soft tap at the side of his face. Far too light to be called a slap by any stretch of the imagination, but it still shocked him.

“Hey, don’t do that. If you don’t let me make any of the decisions, you’re taking my agency away as much as you would be if you forced this on me. Which you didn’t, by the way, at all. I wanted you, and I still want you. This was my choice and I know with every single bit of me if I had given the slightest hint I didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have touched me. So you can stop beating yourself up. I’m glad you were my first, and I love being with you. And I’d love even more to feel like I’m really yours. I want to call you Master and even though you’re trying super hard to keep it from me, I think you want it, too, so that’s what I’m going to do. Master.”

What was he going to do with her? Stubborn little thing. But the answer that came to him was the answer he always fell back on when it came to Keyne: he was going to love the ever living hell out of her, and hope for the best.

He drew back, and settled himself between her legs, propping her thighs open with the breadth of his shoulders, and reaching under each leg to take hold of her hands that had fallen to the mattress when he’d pulled away. No, not hands. Wrists.

“Say it again, little girl.”

Her lips parted, and she breathed out, her chest collapsing and then rising fast. “Master?”

He nodded, squeezing her wrists and pinning them to the bed, nudging her legs further apart until she was open to him entirely.

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m going to lick you until you come in my mouth, and then I’m going to fuck you until you come again. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it because you’re mine.”

More lies, but these were designed with one thing in mind. He got what he was after when she moaned and dropped her head back, her hips squirming as much as they were able. “Yes, Master.”

He was going straight to hell, not passing Go, not collecting $200, but he’d be hearing Keyne say, “Yes, Master,” the entire trip and that would make it all worthwhile.