Page 48 of His Custody

Maybe he was digging himself a hole and maybe he would live to regret this, but he was all in now. He would give her anything she wanted, including this. As long as he could be sure this is what she wanted.

“If you want me to. But you’ve got to know, Keyne, this isn’t the only way to have sex.”

“I know. I like it this way. I mean, I liked...” Her eyes went dark, like a cloud passing over the sun, and he felt the change. She was going to say she’d liked being with Gavin.

“You can talk about him, you know. If you want. It’s stupid to pretend you weren’t together.” It would be awkward to hear about Keyne and Gavin’s sex life, but something he’d need to deal with. She didn’t have anything else to compare it to and he wanted her to talk to him.

“It’s not that. I feel bad because Gavin... he loved me.”

“He did.” Jasper was more certain of that than anything he’d ever been certain of in his life. He’d let her have that, soak in it, without having to chime in and add that he loved her, too. That wasn’t the point.

“And he tried. It’s not that I didn’t like it, when we fooled around, but it never felt like that. He made me come,” she said defensively, and he laughed.

“Good.”

Keyne scowled before melting into a smile she buried in his chest. “But not like that.”

“Bet I could do it again.”

She’d been squirming, but went still at his words. A muffled “Again?” floated up to his ears.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Again.”

She rolled away from him, onto her back, her breasts still peeking out above her pulled down camisole. She hadn’t pulled it back up, covered herself. The blood in his cock surged anew. She was going to be the death of him.

“How?” God, if he didn’t know any better and if she weren’t so fucking earnest, he’d think she was playing coy, teasing him.

He sat up and shrugged. “Dunno. I can think of a lot of ways I could set you on fire, lighter. I could play with your tits again.”

Her hands flew up to cover her breasts as his eyes raked over her and the corner of his mouth drew up in a self-satisfied smirk. He grabbed her wrists as she stammered, “P-please.”

“Please what?” Drawing her hands away from her chest, he pressed them into the pillow on either side of her head. “You don’t want me to play with your tits again? Are you sore? You’re not used to being handled like that, are you?”

“No, I, yes...”

He arched a falsely sympathetic brow. “Too many questions?”

“Yes.” She nodded and inhaled and something about her expression made him soften. Someday he’d be able to toy with her, torment her, torture her, but not today. Today he’d be as gentle with her as he could manage and still get her off.

“You want to try something new?”

“Please.”Please, Master, echoed in his mind. What he wouldn’t give to hear it drop from her sweet, compliant mouth. He wouldn’t force it, though. Besides, he’d learned long ago it wasn’t so much about the honorific itself but how his partner used it. “Master” could sound like an impudent insult, but in the right context, his name could sound like a prayer from the most devoted acolyte. But if Keyne called him Master? Maybe that wasn’t a good idea after all because his head would swell to the size of a hot air balloon and he’d float off and never come down.

But for now, fingers or mouth? He wanted her so fuck silly and blissed out that when he pushed inside her it wouldn’t hurt, that she’d be relaxed and soaking wet for him. One of each, then.

He let go of her wrists, wishing he had more hands. He liked how fragile her bones were in his grip. Slim, delicate, crushable. “Keep your hands by your head.”

She did as she was told and he climbed between her thighs, gripping the waistband of those goddamn sleep shorts. How many times had he fantasized about getting them off of her and now it was happening. She raised her hips and he peeled the shorts along with those stretchy lace panties she liked down her legs and tossed them away. He wanted to leave her shirt on—he liked it pushing up her small breasts, framing them. It made her look wanton. But he’d take it off. There’d be time enough to make her feel like a debased little slut. If that was something she liked, and given how things were going, it wasn’t impossible.

He urged her to sit up and pulled the shirt over her head, leaving her naked. She laid back, hands by her ears and it warmed him that she followed his instructions without a second thought. “Such a good girl.”

He stroked her thighs as his gaze wandered up and down her body, studying in reality what had only been a fantasy until now. Her face was flushed and blotches of pink formed on her chest and neck as she squirmed under his study. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. You’re a beautiful girl. I want to look at you.”

A soft huff of air went through her nose and he smiled. He ran his hands up to where her thighs met her hips and slipped his fingers under her legs, drawing them apart. The red hair covering her mound was darker than the hair on her head and carefully trimmed. If this wasn’t a dream, and if he didn’t end up in prison tomorrow, he’d keep her bare. She flushed a deeper pink as he studied her, but didn’t move. He moved his hands between her legs, pushed them further apart until she mewled.

“Does it hurt, Keyne?”

“No.” She shook her head, a tight, vigorous motion.

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