Page 59 of His Custody

“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 tight, 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.

She’d laid her head on his shoulder after her climax and he was stroking her back as she nuzzled his neck. Her tongue traced the bottom edge of his ear lobe and then she whispered. “Fuck me, Jasper, please. I want you to fuck me.”

No way in hell was he going to say no to that. He rolled them as one so she was on her back underneath him, but pulled out. “On your tummy. Knees together, ass up.”

She followed his orders, burying her face in a fluffy pillow and bracing her hands against the headboard. She’d be glad she had.

He straddled her below her hips, parted her cheeks and angled himself inside her. She felt different this way and he squeezed her small body between his legs before he grabbed a hank of her hair and started fucking her, hard. If he could make it last, he knew he could squeeze another orgasm out of her like this. It was the one position that could get her off without him having to stimulate her nipples or her clit. Maybe because they were rubbing against the bed, or maybe because it made her feel subdued, conquered. He held off as long as he could and just before he was about to explode inside her, he swatted her ass hard, and she gasped.

“Oh, god, Jasper, I’m going to come. I’m going to come.”

“Do it, Keyne, come on, I want to feel what I do to you.”

She shuddered beneath him, wracked with relief and he let go, his own release spilling deep inside of her. All this, from a giggle. He loved her.

Chapter Twenty-two

July

Time to put Keyne to bed. His most and least favorite part of the day. Least because it meant he would be without her for hours upon hours, most because he loved the way she fell asleep under his hands, the comfortable surrender she offered without a second thought. She trusted him so much she could sink into dreams, some that still haunted her, believing he would be there if she needed him. Because he would be.

Tonight he had a special surprise for her, one that had kept his cock half hard whenever he’d thought of it—which was a lot. He hoped she’d be as happy. But if he knew his little girl, and he prided himself that he did, she’d be thrilled.

She was already in the bathroom when he came in, a headband pushing back her burnished hair so she wouldn’t get soap in it. He admired her from the door, how comfortable she looked performing her bedtime ritual without a stitch of clothing on. Beautiful. When she was through she turned and noticed him, her face lighting up. “I didn’t see you there.”

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