Page 67

He doesn’t approach like Jaykob, like a hunter stalking through the underbrush—he approaches like a gentleman, or a lord from another time, one set on ruining me between his bedsheets so he can take me for his own.

I blink when he stops a foot away.

And holds out his hand.

I reluctantly draw my essay on dominant-submissive safety around, holding it to my hammering chest. His head tilts, and some of the heat ebbs from his features.

“More journaling?” he asks gently. “Forgive me, Eden. I didn’t mean to push.”

Oh, damn it.

Trying not to cringe, I tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I— It’s not... I brought you something, actually.

Something not... feelings related.” I shake my head.

“Okay, it could be considered feelings-related, I suppose. I did obviously consider feelings, when I wrote it. But also custom, and the benefits of structure and setting expectations. I had several citations, though I’d have loved more sources.

I used the APA style for them. I hope that’s okay—we hadn’t discussed it.

But I figured... I figured it would be fine.

You would... you’d be familiar, with the references.

There’s another thing, too. The other thing.

Lucky helped me with that, between kidnappings. ”

Jasper watches me with close, amused patience. “Consider me curious.”

His finger curls, beckoning me to hand it over, but still, I hesitate.

“I’m just... not sure if you still want it.” My voice comes out a nervous hush, and I don’t know how to raise it.

His head tilts, but he doesn’t move, polite and expectant, so I sigh and place the notepad into his hand.

He’s pulled it to him in the next second, greedily scanning the neat lines with swift, confident speed—and as he reads, his face relaxes.

He lifts the next page to read, and a laugh whispers out of him.

I crane to see what part he’s reading, but he lifts a finger, signaling for me to wait. I pull my hair over my shoulder, my fingers knotting in the ends. “You don’t have much in your library on non-monogamy, or how that intersects with kink, so I drew some of my own conclusions.”

He hums in acknowledgement, turning the next page, and I dance onto my toes, watching him.

“Ah, wonderful point,” he murmurs, and my heels drop back to the floor in relief.

My eyes flick between his face and my essay, my pride kindling at the silent delight tucked into his features. I’m not sure if it’s the submissive or the academic in me, but I really didn’t want to disappoint Jasper with this.

He finally lets the pages drop, and his fingers rest thoughtfully over the sloping script.

“Incredibly thorough. You have a gift for nuance. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a submissive articulate the need for safety so clearly—or dedicate themselves to a punishment so sincerely.”

I duck my chin, trying to hide my happy—borderline smug—smile. The praise glows through me like a crackling fire, relaxing all the nerves and worries I had before turning my paper over.

Would it be in poor form to ask him to grade me?

“But do tell me, Eden . . .”

It’s only then I see the dangerous slash of his mouth, and my smugness vanishes in an instant as he shifts closer. Now in front of the lamps, his shadows are thrown over me with dark, nightmarish claws.

“What did you mean— if I still want it ?” he asks, and there’s a treacherous edge to the question.

My mouth goes dry. “I...” I glance at the door, but it’s closed—and so very far away.

“Well... it’s been a little while since we spoke, and you’ve been with Lucky, and Jayk had his whole—” I wave my hand, and he tracks the motion with poorly concealed frustration.

“His whole thing . I wasn’t sureif...

I just thought that maybe you had decided. ..”

I trail off, not wanting to finish that sentence under the hot, aggrieved look in his eye, but he’s not about to let it go.

“Decided what ?” The question is blistering, and I wince.

This close I can smell chamomile on him, and the lingering hints of my slop that he, at least, has had the grace to pretend to like.

I look up at him helplessly, not finding any good answers here. Though since at least a third of my essay centered on honest communication, I suppose I should just...

“I thought you might have decided it was all too much trouble?”

His lips part, aghast.

Which is . . . good?

“Oh, Jasper, you’re just so distant, and I?—”

“ Distant ?” The word bursts from him, strangled and inelegant and mortified . He opens his mouth, then closes it, then stares at me. “I’ve been negotiating with terrorists for you. I’ve been placating your boyfriend. I’ve— I’ve been trying not to put you in an impossible situation.”

“Oh. Oh, well, that’s very swee?—”

He lifts a sharp finger, halting my words as he grimaces like he’s in pain. Turning away, Jasper tosses down my essay, then massages the bridge of his nose.

“I take it back. Your grasp of nuance is on life-support.”

My eyes widen, and a scoffed, offended sound gets caught in the back of my throat.

Sometimes I wonder at Jasper and Lucky, and how their private conversations might go after the sweat has cooled on their skin and their chemistry cools to a simmer. Now I wonder if they don’t just bat insults back and forth until they’re ready to go again.

Still... he’s an excellent sadist. He might make a wicked slice, but it’s tempered by what lies under it—by the nuance he’s berating me for missing, I think sourly.

Jasper does want me.

He’s just not always very clear in how he shows it.

It’s not entirely my fault. All my other brutes, for better or worse, have led most of our interactions—I know what they expect from me. In fact, the only other one of them who gave me this many mixed messages just so happened to be the only one I knew instinctively how to read.

But I’m not sure that Jasper wants to be compared to?—

The door slams open, and my shoulders slump.

I’m so tired of this.

At least when there was sex at the end, I was actually able to work out my aggravation.

But Jasper surprises me, whirling around with surprising vitriol. “Get out , Jaykob.”

“Sure. Just collecting my things.”

I wait to be scooped up—again—when Jasper strides forward, snapping with rage. He’s not choosing politeness today. “You of all people know how intensely private these sessions are. Or would you feel comfortable revealing the most intimate details of your sessions, even to her?”

Like this, Jasper is... chilling. I lift my head, glancing back at Jayk, who pauses, scowling, like even he is rethinking here.

His eyes flick to me. “You’re having a session?”

Screw the essay, you can’t fight clean with Jaykob.

“Yep. Ah, yes. I am,” I confirm, and the corner of Jasper’s mouth twitches.

Jayk looks between us suspiciously, and his scowl deepens. “I’m waiting outside. Keep your clothes on.”

“Actually, I’m getting a little tired of clothes,” I murmur sweetly, and Jayk flips me off as he leaves.

There’s a heavy thud as he rests against the door, and Jasper and I both stare at it as I realize I’m on yet another timer. Despair spirals through me.

How on earth am I ever going to get him to see sense?

“I’m sorry, Jasper,” I say softly.

For Jayk, for me and the insecurities I still struggle to shake.

Jasper snicks his tongue hard against his teeth, then sighs. His hand touches mine, squeezing it gently.

“I have something for you, too, Eden.”

He lifts an ornate hardcover book off his bedside table and walks it back to me, and my stomach swoops. More notes. More thoughts and feelings and quips, just for me.

He has been thinking of me.

Jasper stops in front of me, and he hesitates a moment before handing it over. When he does, I turn it in my hands, running my fingers over the foiled cover.

Othello .

My brows shoot up, and I scan Jasper’s face. He’s looking at me intently, his eyes still full of things , and as though the play was a codex, I begin to understand him.

Othello, driven mad by jealousy.

I wonder how many nights he spent agonizing over this. I wonder how many secrets he’s poured into the margins.

I step into him, wetting my lips. “I’m assuming the subtext isn’t that you’re planning to murder me?”

Jasper’s intensity doesn’t fade. He just dips his chin to the side in a soft negative.

I look back down at the hardcover, my heart thudding.

This is a language I understand.

“There was something else in the notepad.” My hands shake on the book, and I can’t quite meet his eyes. “I think you missed it.”

I can tell I’ve intrigued him. He picks up the notepad, flicking through the pages until he finds several printed sheaves of paper, these a cold, crisp white, poking from between the yellowed pages. He tugs them free... and his expression becomes intent.

Eden Anderson’s Limits List sprawls across the top of the first page.

The first of seven .

He lifts the second page, and my stomach flips, as I try to remember everything I marked down. I catch sight of a word here and there.

What on earth is bastinado again?

Was it a food thing? Being basted with something? I catch sight of the heading.

No. It’s under “Impact Play.”

Impact. I had to strongly consider whether I wanted impact anything . But I mean, as Lucky pointed out, spanking counts as impact, so I’d ticked yes to that. Paddles also sounded do-able. Maybe. That got an “Unsure but willing to try.”

Oh, what if it’s not enough for?—

“Eden?” Jasper prompts carefully, cutting off my thoughts.

“Hm?” It comes out like a squeak, and I tear my eyes from the pages.

“This isn’t a test. You can change these at any time. Before, during, after. I only need you to be honest.” He’s kind, assessing, but there’s still an edge to him that makes me hesitate. One that breaks only a little with the caustic lift of his brow. “If you still want this.”

Ooh, of course he’s throwing that in my face.

I lift my chin. “I believe I made it quite clear that I do— Ah!”

Jasper pins me to the door by my throat, enveloping me against it. “Your essay was reassuring enough that I believe you know how to stop me if you wish it, is that correct?”

I blink, drawing in a sharp breath that mostly belongs to him. Light choking was definitely approved on my list.

“Yes?”

“Excellent.”

Jasper kisses me—hot and barbed and sharp-edged, he doesn’t bother to be gentle. This isn’t a woodland dream or a coaxing test. I feel every inch of his frustration and jealousy and pent-up lust. I feel the manners being stripped away.

When his teeth cut my lip, I moan, shocking myself.

Shocking myself more when he sucks it, claiming the wound.

A fist pounds against the door, and Jasper snicks the lock shut , glowering at me.

“So we’re clear—I am interested , Eden.” His eyes are stygian, simmering and otherworldly.

“I loved Lucien for seven years before we were together. I am patient. I am risk-averse, and I didn’t want you to be hurt while the rest of us resolved our differences.

Do not mistake that for indifference. I promise you, I am the furthest thing.

What you do to me, pretty girl.. .” I pant against his mouth, trying to capture it again, but his hand flexes against my throat with mind-fuzzing control. “It breaks me.”

Jaykob pounds at the door again. “I heard that, motherfucker. Unless you switched up your techniques, that’s not fucking therapy !”

I ignore him.

At this point, he probably deserves this.

“Maybe I don’t want to wait seven years. I don’t want to wait at all.” I’m proud that it sounds like a challenge, and not the whine I almost let out.

Jasper seems to hear it anyway, and his irritation melts into something deliciously condescending. He tsks.

“Poor, sweet submissive. One man fucking you into the mattress every night isn’t enough?” His lips brush over mine again, a cruel tease. “You need more?”

“He’s not,” I mutter, irritated and flustered and aching.

That seems to take him aback. “He’s not?”

“I thought Lucky would have mentioned. Jayk is keeping things nonsexual, something about preserving my energy and staying healthy. And that reminds me, I have a bone to pick with Beau.”

Jasper stares at me for a long moment, like I’ve shocked him. It’s a lot like the way Lucky looked at me when he found out the same thing.

His eyes lift to the door, suddenly suspiciously silent, and a frown creases his brows.

I suck my aching lower lip into my mouth, my tongue toying with the cut, and I feel the throb everywhere. It makes me brave.

“Jasper, please,” I whisper throatily. “I need more.”

His eyes snap back to mine, scanning my face. Whatever he finds there brings an infernally satisfied flare to his eyes.

“No,” he says.

Still with that thoughtful expression, he unlocks the door, and before I can register any hurt, Jasper tilts my chin back up toward his mouth. His finger rubs over my cut. “I won’t do anything before I review your list.”

He opens the door, and ushers me out, and Jaykob pauses, lowering his axe.

Jasper sighs, pressing a thumb between his brows. “I’ll work out what to do with him.”

Jaykob glares at him, but when Jasper drops his hand, he looks only at me.

Banked, carnal heat curls in his eyes.

“You just be a good girl and think of me tonight. Don’t fuck him. You need to stop letting him take everything too.”

I step in front of Jayk before he can charge and nod, my heart fluttering wildly.

“I promise.”