Page 86 of Ensnared

“Whendid you realize?”Iask, wanting desperately to even the playing field. “Thatyou liked...Thatyou were a—”

“Asadist?”Faintamusement lightens his features. “Afrightening word, isn’t it?”

Ofcourse he’s amused—he’s the one on the safe end of the whip.

Jasperappears to think it over. “Itwas from a fairly young age—certainly from the timeIwas old enough to start thinking about sex.Ican’t remember a time where it was separate from pain in my mind.”

Hegrows silent for a moment, and it’s like he gathers the shadows, becoming something still and slightly frightening.

Somethingunholy, but divinely in need of worship.

“AsIgrew older,Ilearned.Mybody called for control, forpain.Cravedit like air, or water.Itwasn’t a desire... it was a vocation.”Hiseyes gleam in the soft lights. “Isaw pretty things andIwanted to break them.Isaw pretty people and wanted them under my loafer and begging.Iwanted tears, and surrender.”Hislips thin, and the shadows darken. “Youcan’t imagine how much it frightened me.”

Istart in surprise, and he smiles faintly at my reaction, but there’s no humor in it.

“IthoughtIwas evil,” he confesses. “Onlyvillains want to hurt people.Ispent years burying it, fearing to look too closely at my desires.Whichwas foolish, of course—only in understanding comes acceptance.Ittook me a long time beforeIrealized that not just any tears would do.Notany pain would ease the ache in my soul.Theyneeded to be willingly offered.Givenfreely and gratefully.”

Jasperrolls his shoulders back, andIrealize he’s uncomfortable.Hedirects that penetrating gaze on me again. “I’msorry.I’mexplaining this poorly.It’snot somethingI’veever tried to put into words before.”

Pulseshivering,Ishake my head minutely. “You’reexplaining it perfectly.”

Freelyand gratefully.Forthe first timeIwonder just how much pleasure a masochist must feel for their pain to become something they beg for.

Onthe board,Ican suddenly see how clever his move is.Ifhe pushes forward with his knight,Iwill be placed terribly to protect my major pieces.Butmost of my defensive moves still leave me at his mercy.

Imove my pawn toC6, pre-emptively stopping his knight from advancing.

“Goodgirl,” he murmurs, andIbeam up at him at the praise.

Somethingkindles in his expression as he takes in my smile.Iwonder if he’d be encouraging while he hurt me.Whatkind of comfort would come between the torments?

Feelingwarm,Ipush my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

Jaspermoves his other bishop toG5to threaten my knight. “Howdid you meet your husband?”

Myarousal sizzles out. “Ah.Henrywas plumping out his extracurriculars for hisYaleapplication, so we met at the nursing home my grandmother was moved to.”Jasper’sbrows twitch at the mention ofYale, just slightly, and my smile turns caustic.Yes, nothing but the best for my dear husband. “Henry... he took an interest in me.I’mstill not quite sure why.Hisparents were rather hard on him, andIthink he liked playing the hero.Hisfamily was wealthy, you see, and terribly educated.”

Jaspertrains his eyes on the board, but the lines of him are carefully still.Iknow he’s paying attention.

Ilift my hand in a dismissive wave, though my throat thickens at the humiliating memories. “It’sall very predictable,I’mafraid.Hewas kind to me, and so willing to ‘teach’ me to be a better person—in their eyes, of course.HowIshould dress, and talk, and eat soIcould fit into his world.Itdidn’t matter, though.Hisparents hated me.”

Ithurts to think of those early years.God,Iwas naive.Justa foolish little girl.

MaybeI’mmaking a mistake, tellingJasperall this.

Istudy his move.Ifhe takes my knight,Ican take his bishop.Isthat an even exchange?CanIafford to give him this piece if he gives me one of his?

Intothe lullIleft,Jasperoffers, “Ittook a long time for me to put a name to whatIneeded.WhatIwas.Sadist.Dominant, too, but that was easier to wrap my head around—even a relief, in many ways.Butthen, onceIfinally feltIhad it worked out, allIwanted was to experience it.Tofind the other side of my coin, if you like.”Thecorner of his mouth lifts in a grimace. “Theproblem was, of course, that there are as many brands of masochist and submissive as there are sadist and dominant.”

“Thereare?”Iask, curiosity bubbling past my unwelcome memories. “Ithought—IsupposeIthought you either are or you aren’t.”

Absentmindedly,Jasperruns his finger over his lower lip as he contemplates me, andItry to stop imagining what that lip would taste like.Iwonder what flavor of sadist he is.

“Notquite.Somesubmissives want a full-time dominant, and others are only interested in giving up control during sex.Somewant a combination of both.Someenjoy bondage, some degradation.Somelike to be praised, and others like to be hunted.”

Hishand curls around the arm of his chair as he lowers it, and my heart trips over itself, speeding.Iwant to ask what it means when all of those things sound incredible... butI’membarrassed about what the answer might be.

Flustered,Imove my pawn toB5.

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