Jasper blinked, remembering the mix of panic, shame, and frustration when he’d reached his limit. He’d only wanted to make Vincent stop because he would have come, regardless of trying to hold back. If Vincent had ended the scene there….
“No,” he whispered. He would have gone home and locked himself in his bedroom in mortification. Buried himself in coursework to try and forget. And he doubted he would have shown his face in the club again.
Vincent nodded, then straightened when there was another knock, falling silent as their first course was set out for them. He continued once they were alone again. “Begging to continue afterwards isn’t all that uncommon. Especially if someone feels they disappointed their Dom, temporary or not. I took the chance you were begging for your own sake rather than mine.”
Jasper poked at his salad, which contained pears, goat cheese, and honey drizzle. Was this really how rich people ate? There was silencefor a bit as he ate his salad and Vincent his lobster bisque. The salad was, surprisingly, really good. “Sorry,” he finally said. “I still don’t really know how all this works.”
“Another reason I didn’t end it. I was glad you remembered you could safeword.”
Jasper peered at Vincent, watching him as their plates were switched out for the next course. Once the server was gone, he said, “You’re really not as big of a dick as some people make you out to be, are you?”
Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Try saying that again in two months.”
Jasper grinned, unbothered by the implication he was going to sign the contract. “Okay.”
Vincent nodded towards the envelope. “Take it and think it over. I’ll have a new one waiting with your limits included.”
“Okay,” Jasper said again and took a bite of spaghetti—the only thing on the menu he knew he’d like—and bit back a soft moan. Damn. That was amazing. No wonder Vincent liked this place. He buttered a piece of crusty bread and glanced at Vincent’s plate—some kind of fancy dish with duck. He resisted wrinkling his nose, though he had to wonder if Vincent’s tastes in kink were as particular as his taste in food.
“So,” he said, then realized he didn’t have anything to say. What kind of conversation were you supposed to have with a guy who’d fucked your brains out twice before you had an actual date?
Vincent raised an eyebrow expectantly, his lips twitching with what Jasper hoped was amusement. “Yes?”
Jasper shoved another forkful of spaghetti in his mouth to buy some time. “You own the club, right?” Amber mentioned it when he’d asked about club membership.
“Yes,” Vincent said, and Jasper was sure it was amusement this time.
“How’d you get into it? The kink thing.”
Vincent didn’t respond immediately, dipping his own piece of bread in his duck sauce. “It’s been a need ever since I was a kid and played doctor with my babysitter.”
Jasper blinked and sat up, beyond curious. “How?” He almost imagined a young Vincent pinning his babysitter down and kissing them, but his brain shied away from it.
“When she was on her back for me to operate, I felt this rush of power and control. It wasn’t until I was older and experimented with sex that I was able to put a name to it.”
“That’s… like it was when you had me in the chair,” Jasper admitted quietly, poking at the last bit of his spaghetti. “I was finally experiencing something I’d only been able to imagine until then.” And his imagination had fallen short.
“You’ve never been held down?”
Jasper shrugged, hating the hint of surprise he heard in Vincent’s voice. “Not like that. Nothing even close to that.” He’d never known how to ask.
The server returned to refill their drinks and bring their desserts, and Jasper dug into his chocolate gelato, unable to stifle his moan this time. He glanced up briefly, shifting in his seat when he caught Vincent watching him.
“I’m glad I could make your first brush with kink enjoyable,” Vincent said, and despite the genuine warmth, there was definitely amusement in his voice.
The evening ended far too quickly after that, and Vincent rode next to him in the back seat to take him home. He’d hoped to end up in Vincent’s bed, or at least at the club, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen until he decided to sign or not.
The fact Vincent finally gave Jasper his number at least made up for the lack of sex. Almost.
The car stopped out front, and Jasper started to get out, freezing when Vincent caught his arm.
Vincent tugged him close, pressing his lips to Jasper’s ear. “If you do decide to sign, can you handle not getting off until I see you next?”
Jasper shivered, glancing back at Vincent. There went his plans of at least getting himself off as soon as he was in bed, but he found he didn’t mind. The idea of holding back because Vincent wanted him to made his stomach do weird and pleasant things.
“Maybe,” he finally answered. He closed the distance between them, Vincent’s kiss sending shocks of pleasure through his body. He melted beneath the onslaught of Vincent’s tongue, blinking when the kiss ended and Vincent pulled away.
“Good night, Jasper.”
