Jasper let out a shuddery groan. “Now I’m yours.”
“Good boy.” Vincent trailed his fingertips back to Jasper’s ass and squeezed. “You’re mine now, pet. You can trust me to take care of you. All I ask for in return is your honesty. Can you give me that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
When Jasper exhaled and relaxed, Vincent pulled his hand away. He pressed the paddle against Jasper’s thigh for a moment, then brought it down on his ass.
Jasper arched beautifully with a sharp moan.
He should make it a standing rule that Jasper wasn’t allowed to come without permission if this was the result of a few days without release. The paddle landed again on the other cheek, and Vincent slipped into the peace of the steady rhythm, the sharp echo of leather on flesh, and the sweet sounds each swat coaxed from Jasper’s throat.
Jasper’s cries grew steadily louder as the paddle landed over and over again, his breathing turning ragged.
“That’s it, pet,” Vincent purred, using a bit more force as Jasper’s ass flushed a nice red. “Your ass looks good like this. Pink and rosy and begging to be fucked.” He enjoyed the sounds Jasper made and could only imagine how much better they’d be with Vincent buried inside him.
Jasper eventually let out a soft whimper, bordering on pained, before slumping on top of the bench. He let out a long sigh, soft, half-aborted whines following.
Vincent slowed the paddle, sliding his other hand up Jasper’s back to run through his hair. “Good boy,” he murmured. “Stay just like that for me.”
He wasn’t sure how close to subspace Jasper was, but he wasn’t really pushing for it tonight. Walking Jasper through that recovery might be a bit too intense their first weekend together.
He helped Jasper to his feet and closer to the mirror. He checked the cock ring, palming Jasper’s arousal and muffling the resulting moan with his lips. “Hands up,” he ordered, fastening the cuffs at the end of the dangling chains around Jasper’s wrists. They were high enough to keep Jasper’s arms above his head without straining them.
Vincent stepped back, taking in the sight of his pet. All his. For this weekend and the next two months at the very least. “How do you feel?” he asked, walking around Jasper and admiring the red ass. He poked a cheek, the flesh turning white and then reddening again when he pulled away.
“Hot, Sir,” Jasper murmured. “Hard and… good. I feel good.”
Vincent hummed and turned Jasper around so he was facing the mirror. He stood behind Jasper and rested a hand against Jasper’s throat. “You look good, pet.” He rocked his hips forward, letting Jasper feel how hard he was, and relished the needy moan that earned.
“I want to make you feel good, Sir. Please.”
“You are.” Vincent slid his palms over Jasper’s chest and down to his hips. He dragged Jasper back, forcing him onto his toes as he rocked forward again, grinding into Jasper’s ass. “You’re helpless to stop me from doing exactly what I want, pet,” he added, digging his fingers into Jasper’s hips before letting go.
Jasper stumbled a step as he regained his balance, a flush creeping up his neck when he finally saw himself in the mirror.
Vincent pinched Jasper’s nipples, tormenting them until Jasper was panting and fighting to keep his legs under him. Then he slid his hands down Jasper’s chest, chasing the tremors to his thighs and coaxing soft, pleading sounds from his throat.
Jasper’s ribs were ticklish. As soon as Vincent’s fingertips ghosted across them, he tried to twist down and away. Their first night in the club, Vincent had found a spot above Jasper’s left hip; every time he pressed his thumb into it, Jasper moaned and relaxed. His nipples and ears proved to be the most sensitive—to everything from caressing to biting.
Everywhere Vincent touched seemed to earn its own reaction. It wasn’t long until Jasper was struggling against the restraints and groaning in frustration. Vincent could get spoiled with a sub like this.
Once he was convinced he’d sought out every sensitive spot he’d find tonight, he slowly drew his hands away. “Breathe,” he said, leaving Jasper to catch his breath as he grabbed a condom and the lube. As he prepped, he watched Jasper regain his senses and rest more of his weight against the restraints. He thumbed the button of his jeans open as he squeezed a generous amount of lube on his fingers and warmed it between them. By the time he’d gotten the condom on with his other hand, Jasper’s breathing was more or less steady and his eyes were closed.
The first press of Vincent’s fingers was enough to get him going again.
Jasper’s eyes flew open, and he rocked into the pressure with a throaty moan. “Please.”
Vincent hid a smile against the back of Jasper’s neck, glancing at the mirror to watch him. “Please what?” he asked, continuing to work his finger in. He gripped Jasper’s hip to keep him steady and grazed his teeth over warm flesh.
“Fuck,” Jasper groaned, all but collapsing into Vincent’s support. “Please fuck me, Sir?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” Jasper said, somehow sounding offended despite the finger up his ass.
Vincent hummed, pretending to consider it as he worked another finger in. He reached up with his other hand and tweaked a nipple. “All right, then,” he murmured, pulling his fingers out and sliding both hands to grip Jasper’s hips instead, holding him steady as he slowly pressed inside.
Jasper’s head tipped back, and he rocked his body against Vincent’s with a long drawn-out moan. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Fucking finally.” He let out another needy moan as Vincent pushed in another inch. “So good, Sir. Been—nnngh!—getting off on imagining this.”
