Page 27 of His Custody

That was the truth. When he’d done blood play, it wasn’t the blood that had turned him on. It was his partners’ willingness to put that much trust in him, to deem him worthy of holding their lives in his steady hands, the way none of them had flinched when the blade sunk into their flesh. They’d believed with everything they had that he knew how to do this safely, he wasn’t going to cut too deep, wouldn’t leave them scarred, wouldn’t let them bleed out. That’s what had got him hot—that heady sensation of power, control, mastery.

Jasper might have been a ruthless dealer in business, willing to destroy people who got in his way, but he would never hurt someone who’d submitted to him, offered themselves to him so completely. He wasn’t exactly proud of being a corporate wolf, not to be trusted in the boardroom, but he’d done what he had to do to build what he had. But outside of that, he was an honorable man. Worthy of trust. He wanted, with everything he had, for Keyne to trust him, to have as much faith in him as those women had. He’d never wanted anything worse than he wanted that.

“Are you done for the day or are you going to show me how you do this?”

“You want me to... now?”

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

He’d be late for his call, but so be it. Keyne was his priority and if some suits on the other end of a conference call had to wait for him, they’d do it. She reached into the box and extracted a curved blade sealed like an instrument in a dentist’s office, holding it up to him. “This one?”

“Whichever one you like.” He shrugged to cover the shudder that ran through him. If Gavin were here... Well, that was moot because Gavin wasn’t here. If he were, none of this would’ve happened. A sudden spike of anger lanced through his stomach and his chest. Keyne wasn’t the only one they’d abandoned, the only one left damaged.

For a second, he was so angry at them all for leaving them. Look at what happened when he was left to his own devices. It was all their fucking fault he was having to do this, but he had to shove it down for now because this wasn’t about him. It was about Keyne. He hated every second of this but he wasn’t going to show it. Every time he’d schooled his expression to an implacable poker face was in preparation for this moment.

She grasped the sharp knife tighter in her fingers, making her choice.

That step complete, he took the box from her and extracted everything else they would need. While she waited for him to finish, Keyne sat back in her chair and let her knees fall open, not shy now that he knew her secret. He pointed to the next logical step in her ladder of lacerations. “Are you going to cut here or start on the other side?”

She was right, he was a sick fuck. How could he be doing this? He breathed through his nose, hoping she wouldn’t notice his nostrils were flared and she couldn’t hear how loud the air was whistling through to his lungs. Bile sloshed around in his stomach and he thought he might be sick. Luckily there was a trash can right next to Keyne’s desk so in the event he did puke, it would be contained and Ada wouldn’t have to clean the carpet.

Keyne wrapped her lips between her teeth before she looked at him. “Other side.”

“Okay.” He laid a gauze pad between her leg and the chair to catch the blood. It wasn’t thick, but he wouldn’t let her cut deep enough to bleed through. He showed her where her femoral artery ran and told her to be careful to avoid it.

“You know you just gave me a road map of how to off myself, right?”

“You’re not going to kill yourself.” He’d meant it as an observation but it came out as an order.You will not kill yourself.

Her strawberry blond lashes, so light they were almost translucent, rested against her cheek before her eyes fluttered open, connected with his and she shook her head. The motion was slow and small and it gave him more confidence than if it had been a flailing, vociferous denial.

Once the site was prepared, she unwrapped the knife and held the blade over her skin. Their eyes met and he could have sworn she was asking for permission. He gave it to her with a blink before his gaze zeroed in on her hand.

She was shaking and he wanted to grab the knife from her, cut her himself because he wouldn’t slip. But that was a step further than he was willing to go on this fucked-up slope and so he watched her fingers like a hawk as they gripped the blade tighter and touched gleaming metal to skin. It was a thin, razor sharp blade and she’d clearly been using something not as fine, not as crafted for the purpose, because she gasped when it was so easy to make the cut. But she didn’t go too deep, didn’t skate too long over her flesh, and she pulled away as the blood started to gather at the seam she’d opened. It pooled in a drop that slid toward the gauze and her eyes closed as she put the knife on her desk.

Jasper stared at the thin stream, dribbling over some of her freckles like a gory game of connect the dots. He stared at it until he couldn’t anymore, grabbing more gauze out of the kit and heading to the bathroom for some soap and water.

When he got back, she’d pressed a pad of gauze against the cut she’d made, though her eyes were closed and her head was dropped back. He took her hand, lifted it away from the wound and proceeded to clean and bandage it and the one on the other side that looked new. He didn’t look in her face until he was done.

“Are you finished?”

She blinked. “You’d let me do it again?”

“You can do it until I tell you to stop.”

Her brows knitted together, trying to figure out his game.Good luck, Keyne; I don’t know what I’m playing at either.

“I’m done.”

“Good.” He packed up the box, setting aside the things to be thrown in the trash and the knife to be cleaned. The box felt heavier under his arm than it had on the way in and he was wrung out, like after an intense scene. Mostly they energized him but on rare occasions, they wrecked him, and this was the latter. He took a step toward the door but before he could get any further, her small voice called him back.

“Jasper?”

“Yeah?” He didn’t face her, couldn’t right now or he might flat out break down right in front of her, but turned his head so she would know he was listening.

“I mean, I’m done. I won’t do it anymore.”

His breath caught in his chest and then he did turn around. “Okay.”

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