He kept to his side of the bed, unsure what was allowed here. At the club he’d managed to cuddle into Vincent, but this was different. This was Vincent’shome, and Jasper was glad he’d even been allowed in.
“Is there….” He cursed himself for not just going to sleep. Surely he couldn’t fuck anything up while unconscious. “Keith said you might make me sleep on the floor. With a chain.”
Vincent snorted, rolling onto his side, his face barely visible in the dark. “If you want to sleep on a mat while chained to my bed, I won’t stop you, but it’s not my personal preference.”
“Okay,” Jasper said, relieved. He might be enjoying things so far, but he much preferred being able to sleep in an actual bed.
Something close to a purr escaped him as Vincent’s fingers ran through his hair. He took that as an invitation and shifted closer, twisting his fingers together so he wouldn’t reach for Vincent’s shirt. Even if the lack of a suit made Vincent seem more approachable, he wasn’t about to push his luck. “Thank you,” he said softly, closing his eyes. “For dinner and everything. I’m glad you found me at the club. And put up with me. And let me come here.”
He was babbling, and he knew it, but he’d been fighting a twist of unease since waking up alone on the couch. It wasn’t like tonight was much different from what they’d done in the club, but it sure as hell had been more intense.
It wasn’t the sex either; he wasn’t a virgin. But the spanking had pushed him somewhere. Someplace where it didn’t matter what was going on so long as he felt safe and whatever Vincent did to him felt good. Keith had mentioned subspace briefly, but Jasper hadn’t expected it to feel like this.
Everything was still a little hazy. Like there was a warm, fuzzy blanket wrapped around all his senses. He didn’t exactly mind, but it left him feeling unbalanced. And clingy.
He wondered if this was how Matt felt when Jasper saw him with a dazed, contented, almost vacant expression some weekends when the others came back from the club.
And there was also the creeping doubt that Vincent might decide he wasn’t interested anymore, now that they’d had sex. The thought was an incessant scratchiness against the pleasure-numbed cocoon of his brain.
He blinked as Vincent gave a light tug on his hair.
“Something wrong, pet?” Vincent asked, his soft voice doing wonders to soothe Jasper’s nerves.
Jasper shook his head. Even sated and blissed out of his mind, he knew better than to voice any of those thoughts. “Can… would you mind holding me?” he asked instead.
“Come here.” Vincent shifted and slipped both his arms around Jasper. He tucked the blanket in, then pressed a kiss to the top of Jasper’s head. “Like this?”
Jasper nodded against Vincent’s shoulder, releasing a shuddering breath as his body relaxed. That felt nice. Really nice. Even if it did come with a flood ofoverwhelmed. Like every tension and fear he’d been keeping bottled up suddenly evaporated and was trying to escape all at once.
He was fine. He wasn’t going to cry. He could handle it. It would pass. He wasn’t going to cry. It wasn’t anything more than an emotional release. He wasn’t—fuck.
Somehow he managed to keep his breathing steady as warm wetness slipped across his nose. Thankfully either Vincent didn’t notice or didn’t mind, though his palm did trace a slow path up and down Jasper’s back.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for everything to run its course, but it left him exhausted and even more hazy. In a pleasantly dull sort of way.
Vincent ran his fingers lightly through Jasper’s hair with a soft, “Good night, pet.”
Jasper tried to respond, but it came out a garbled mess. He was already mostly unconscious.
WHEN JASPERwoke, the sun was already coming up and he was still tucked against Vincent’s chest.
Vincent was asleep, and Jasper wasn’t about to move and disturb him. Especially when lying half on top of Vincent was a thrill in itself. The fact he didn’t have to get up and leave was even better.
He carefully snuggled closer, rubbing his cheek against Vincent’s soft shirt. How could anyone think Vincent was anything other than a surly teddy bear? Who liked to smack people, maybe, but everyone had their vices.
He closed his eyes with a soft hum, resting his hand on Vincent’s stomach. When he couldn’t fall back asleep, he let his hand inch down and settle against Vincent’s thigh. He ignored the nervous lurch in his stomach—what if Vincent didn’t want to be touched like he hadn’t in the club?—but considering Vincent had chained him up and fucked him last night, he was at least 30 percent certain it was okay.
Vincent let out a sigh as Jasper slid his palm over Vincent’s morning wood. It turned into a soft moan when Jasper gently rubbed against it through the thin sweats.
Jasper shivered, surprised how much he wanted to touch Vincent and make him feel good. With Shayne it had always been quick and rough, and if Shayne got off first, Jasper usually had to take care of himself. Vincent hadn’t neglected his pleasure once. Even when Jasper had refrained from touching himself, there’d been a sense of contentment in it.
Which made it easy to laze against Vincent’s chest and gently coax him into full hardness while trying not to wake him.
“Are you trying to earn brownie points?” Vincent asked, his voice rough with sleep.
Oops.
“Does that work on you?” Jasper asked without lifting his head. Or stopping his fingers.
