With the scene done, he was more surprised at the complete satiation spreading through his limbs despite not getting off himself. Working the floor at the club and doing the occasional scene took the edge off most of the time, but nothing could scratch the itch like having his own sub. And Jasper was proving to be far more amazing than expected.
Vincent’s leg started going numb long before Jasper finally stirred, shifting his weight and nosing against Vincent’s neck.
“All right, pet?”
“Mmnngh.”
He almost hated the burst of fond amusement in his chest, but he accepted it for what it was. “Can you sit up?”
Jasper tightened his arms around Vincent’s shoulders with a whine of protest. A few moments later, he sighed and lifted his head enough to rest his forehead against Vincent’s cheek instead.
Vincent squeezed Jasper’s knee. “Good enough. Can I take this off now?” he asked, tugging at the rope still covering Jasper’s arm.
Jasper sighed again, as though Vincent were being unacceptably demanding, but he lowered his arm so Vincent could get to it.
“Thank you, pet.” He worked the rope off with one hand, dragging it through his fingers enough to untangle the cords as he went. When he was done, he dropped the rope to the side and brushed his fingers against the indentations in Jasper’s skin.
Shibari was his favorite type of bondage, mostly because of the intimacy involved in putting it on and taking it off, but partly because of the marks it left behind. They might not last as long as others, but being able to feel them beneath his fingers after a scene took things to a different level.
He turned his head enough to kiss Jasper’s forehead. “How about the other one?”
It took several long seconds, but Jasper finally sat up enough to offer Vincent his other arm. Once freed from the last of the rope, Jasper ran a finger over the marks on his arm.
Vincent watched in silence for a moment. “All good?”
Jasper licked his lips, rubbing his thumb against the line around his wrist as he nodded.
“Can you stand?”
That seemed to be too much to ask. Jasper slumped into Vincent’s chest again with a quiet groan. “Five?”
Vincent stifled a laugh. “How about ten,” he replied, resting a hand on Jasper’s thigh. He traced his finger back and forth along the marks there, feeling the tiny grooves left by the rope.
As the minutes ticked by, he worried maybe he’d gone a bit too far, both too early in the relationship and too late in the weekend. This was the first time he’d seen Jasper so far in subspace, and he wasn’t sure how long it would take him to recover.
But Jasper had been nothing if not responsive through the entire scene, and it was hard to resist the chance to explore his limits.
He suspected Jasper was impatient to experience everything Vincent could offer, but there was no need to rush. The last thing he wanted was to hit a plateau before their first contract was even up.
And he knew without a doubt he’d be offering a second contract. Two years ago, he’d resigned himself to having a sub for only a few months at a time. Either the chemistry faded, or their needs never quite aligned with his own. At some point he’d stopped searching for anything more than the occasional scene.
And then Jasper, the walking contradiction of shyness and naivete and brattiness, dared set foot in his club.
Jasper sighed and pressed his face into Vincent’s shoulder, his grip on Vincent’s shirt relaxing a bit. Even so, it still took a while longer for him to sit up. Then he glanced down at himself with a grimace. “Need a shower,” he murmured.
“Go ahead. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Jasper nodded and slid off Vincent’s lap, sat beside him for a long moment, then finally stood and headed upstairs.
Vincent winced as blood circulated back into his leg, waiting for it to wake up a bit until he dared to stand himself. He grabbed a bottle of water and a carton of apple juice from the pantry, then took care of the locks and lights. The mess could be cleaned up later.
The shower was still running down the hall when Vincent reached the bedroom. He tossed the drinks on the bed and grabbed some sweats and a T-shirt, using the en suite for his own quick shower and brushing his teeth. When he finished, Jasper was sitting on the bed with the straw of the apple juice in his mouth, his other hand tracing the marks on his arm.
He hoped that was as reassuring as it looked. “How do they feel?” he asked, settling in beside Jasper.
“Good.” Jasper glanced up, setting the empty carton on the nightstand, then shifting to his knees and facing Vincent, twisting the sheet between his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
Vincent paused, resisting the immediate impulse to catch Jasper’s fingers with his own. “What for?”
