His Custody

by Tamsen Parker

  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.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  July

  Over the next few weeks, Jasper trained her. Showed her toy after toy, ones he’d bought just for her because he thought she’d like them. She knew, of course, that he’d done these things with other people, other women, because a person didn’t get as good as he was without practice, and lots of it.

  She supposed she could’ve been jealous, but mostly she was grateful. Some other girl had been subject to his fumbling and his rehearsals, whereas she felt like she was his ultimate performance. All of this had led him to her.

  It was intimidating sometimes, how much he knew and how little she did, but he never made her feel silly for it, and on the contrary, seemed to like that he could help her, teach her, fill her in yet another way.

  Tonight she was excited because he’d asked her to accompany him to a fundraiser his company was sponsoring and he wanted to have a trial run. Not for the banquet itself, but for how she was to behave and the filthy things he would ask of her. Knowing she would have to do these things in public added to the thrill of it. She couldn’t wait.

  As usual, her clothes were put out in her closet, a shimmery yellow empire-waist gown with silver shoes, and a pair of silver satin underwear. So pretty, she was going to look like a sun-kissed goddess.

  She did her own hair and makeup since Ada had the night off, and then she waited for Jasper before she put her fancy clothes on. Would he still be wearing the suit he’d worn to the office today or would he have changed? Not that it mattered, he was always so goddamn handsome.

  When he walked in though, she had to take that back. He really was most striking in a tux. His close-cropped blond hair and those steely grey eyes contrasted with the black and white of his clothes, and she could’ve melted into a puddle right there. Jasper, no doubt, had other plans.

  He pointed to a stool she kept in her closet, mostly to reach things on the high shelves. “Over you go, grab the bottom rung.”

  So she dropped her towel, and naked as she was, bent over the stool, reaching for the bar at the bottom. It put her barely on tiptoes, and made her insides clench. Vulnerable, slightly off-balance and exposed. Knowing Jasper was watching her . . . it all combined to make her wet within seconds. Which was good, since he promptly stood behind her and eased a pair of fingers into her.

  She let out a soft noise, clutched at the rung, and got a spank for shifting her hips.

  “Be still, little girl.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  It wasn’t long until he withdrew his fingers and inserted something else—from the feel of it, she’d guess a dildo, on the small side. It was easy to take, and some of her tension leaked out. She liked feeling full. Which was apparently a good thing because then there was a sound she’d learned very well. The snick of a cap, and then cool liquid was being slicked between her cheeks and over her hole.

  She willed herself to relax, remembering his instructions from when he’d plugged her before. Relax, breathe deeply, think about being open. And then he was working a plug inside of her ass, a feeling she’d been quite disconcerted by at first, but now very much enjoyed. Was he trying to kill her with this?

  Both toys seated fully inside of her, he left his hand at the small of her back, silently telling her to stay put, he wasn’t finished yet. What else could he possibly have for her?

  “You remember your friend the evil stick?”

  “Friend” was not quite the word she’d use to describe the small toy he’d introduced her to last week. Thin carbon fiber on one end with a thicker handle on the other, it looked innocent, but packed a wallop. “Just like you,” Jasper had joked before he laid a stinging strip across her skin that had settled into a nice welt. So “frenemy” was more like it.

  Her small yes was pitiable, because yes, she remembered. But as he flicked her with the implement, she couldn’t deny that along with the burning stripes across the sides of her hips there was some pleasure involved, and not a small amount of pride for being able to take it with little more than a few pained whimpers he told her were beautiful. How lucky was she to have found someone who thought she was beautiful like this?

  Thin lines still stinging, he helped her to stand, and caught her about the waist when she swayed. Cupping her cheek, he tipped her face up while he held her close. “Are you all right, sweetheart? Did you eat enough today? Am I being too hard on you? Are you sick?”

  Her face got hot in the face of his scrupulous interrogation, and she hoped it was a charming glow underneath her makeup. Stroking the strong muscles of his forearms through his sleeves, she smiled. “I’m fine. It’s just a lot to process, and it, um . . . I’m, like, crazy turned on right now.”

  He slipped the hand that had been resting on her cheek to the nape of her neck and held her there to kiss. God she loved being kissed by Jasper, it was like being consumed. He didn’t just kiss with his mouth, but with his hands, and his hips, and . . . Yeah, that wasn’t helping her feel any less faint. But after a minute, he let her go and she managed to stand on her own, a cautionary hand still on the stool
.

  Although she hadn’t noticed it when he’d pressed her against him, he drew out a tangle of leather straps from his pocket and shook it out. “Harness. It’ll help keep those toys inside you through dinner.”

  He expected her to focus on food while she was so full? He really was trying to kill her. But she stood obediently as he fastened the contraption around her hips and through her legs, and then slid the underwear over it.

  “Just in case.” And he winked at her. Oh, playful Jasper was here.

  After he helped her into her dress, he escorted her to the dining room, and though he didn’t say so, she knew he was doing this partly because they wouldn’t be able to be so close at the actual party. They could talk and flirt and touch now, but once they were in public, there could be none of that. So she took advantage while she could, letting him feed her off his fork, allowing his foot to prod her legs apart under the tablecloth. And right before he went to fetch dessert from the kitchen, he reached into his pocket and came to kneel by her chair. He laid two small rubber bands on the table, and when he reached into the bodice of her dress, she had a sneaking suspicion what they were for.

  Her head dropped back against the dining chair as he pushed the fabric aside to expose her and then bent to take her nipple into his mouth. Sucking and squeezing, it didn’t take long to render her a panting mess, and that’s when he slipped the tiny band over her nipple where it kept up a light constant pressure. As he slipped the fabric of her dress back over her breast and turned to the other side, she shifted in her seat.

  “Uncomfortable?”

  “Little.” The band was keeping her nipple hard, and the sensitive tip of it was brushing constantly against the fabric of her dress.

  “Don’t worry, you only have to wear these through dessert.”

  It didn’t sound like a long time, but when he’d finished applying the rubber band to her other nipple, she wasn’t sure she’d make it two minutes, never mind twenty. Never had she had so much attention drawn to these parts of her body, never had her thoughts been pulled so consistently to the lewd, the hedonistic. But it wasn’t only that.