My eyes roll, and I hold up a hand to stop him. “No. If he’s staying, he needs a dignified name.”
Picking the cat up with both hands, I study it. Nothing is jumping out at me. Why is this so hard?
“Westley,” I finally decide. “It’s close enough to North’s name to irk him, and it’s from a book, so it’s appropriate for a Library cat.”
Jasper inclines his head, scratching the cat behind its ears before the newly named Westley finally grows tired of us and squirms to be released. The moment I let go, he disappears between the stacks, chasing a toy mouse that’s being jiggled this way and that by the Arcanaeum.
“You’re pissed at North again?” Jasper asks, picking up a bowl and handing it to me.
Fire streaks across my cheekbones as I think back to last night. Waking up in bed with the frustrating asshole’s hand clasped possessively over my breast did nothing to soothe my ire, either.
I hadn’t realised he was literally going to follow me to bed to ensure I followed his rules. I also didn’t know he’d continue teasing and denying me all. Night. Long.
“Oh. It’s like that.”
Thinking about North while I’m with Jasper feels wrong, and gossiping about sex with him is worse. “He signed the contract.”
I’ll leave it at that.
“So did I, lass.” Jasper’s eyes are fixed on the beatific horizon before us as he picks up the bowls and passes me mine, handing me a spoon a second later.
There’s silence as we dig in. I’m not sure what the dish is, besides some kind of noodle soup, but it’s delicious. Being alive in the modern era has its advantages, and a varied diet is one of them.
“Did you…” he starts, as I eventually put my bowl down. “I mean, I know you’ve been busy…”
Something about his own clear nervousness settles mine, and I summon the box onto the blanket between us.
“I read what you wrote.” A flush climbs up his neck, and I add, “I liked it.”
The crash of distant waves is the only sound for a long second before he releases a breath. “You dinnae have to, if you’re not comfortable.”
“Jasper. Open the box.” I inject a little steel into my tone, and he dips his chin instantly.
“Aye, Mistress.”
His fingers tremble as he lifts the lid, then he freezes at the thick ring contained within. A dozen emotions flitter across his face. Confusion, lust, nerves, need. One finger reachesout to trace the tiny runeforms around the band, the ones that will turn it from a cock ring to a cage.
‘I want you to lock me up, to own me completely.’He’d written.‘I want you to have total control over when I can get hard, when I come. I fuck my hand just imagining you coming up to bed every night and unlocking me to use for your own pleasure.’
“It can wait until you’re a hundred percent sure this is what you want,” I insist. “There are incantations to unlock it, and I’ll teach them to you in case of an emergency. I know you probably need to trust me a little more before you’re comfortable?—”
“Naw. I want this. I trust you.” He stumbles over his words. “I’ve just never seen a magical one before.”
“Are you sure? It’s an awful lot of control to hand over to someone else.”
Especially for someone who was kept locked up and used—albeit for completely different reasons—until recently. He’s a grown adult. It’s not my place to question his judgement, but has he really thought about this?
His eyes—those pretty tawny gems—finally catch mine and hold them. “My body’s belonged to you since you hauled me back from the brink of death, and you know my safe words. I wrote them down, and I trust you to honour them.” There’s a pause where his naturally tanned skin flushes even darker. “Please put it on me, Mistress. I want to wear this for you.”
My core pulses, thighs rubbing together at the drop in his voice and the way he’s shifted to his knees. His palms are face up, head tilted down.
The picture of perfect submission.
I didn’t realise it would affect me quite this much. My breasts heave, my nipples suddenly a hundred times more sensitive beneath the abrasive fabric of my clothes.
But the position brings to light a different problem. “Don’t you think you’re a little hard for this to work?”
His cock is straining obviously against the zipper of his jeans.
