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There was silence. The monitors beeped quietly, but that was the only sound left in the room. She thought he might have fallen asleep again, but his fingers drummed against her side, pattering through her clothing to arouse the skin beneath.
He wasn't asleep. He was considering his options.
"You do realize I'm going to be insanely jealous listening to you call Atticus Sirat work andat Avalon, don't you?" he asked in a menacingly slow voice. Responding to the unspoken threat, her pussy dampened. "We've both seen how I handle the green-eyed monster. Can you take the brunt of my sadism when it gets too much for me to hold back?"
Her ass clenched at the memory of the sjambok lighting up her flesh. "We've already answered that question, Sir. I believe it was a definite yes to taking all your sadism, anytime. Well, when you're discharged from here and can walk without a cane, that is."
"A cane, huh? I can work with that. Every few steps, I can give this sassy ass a whack and listen to you squeal."
Master Jasper was back on form. Anarchy stroked his arm. "If that's what you want to do, Sir. So, will you be joining me on this new adventure?"
"Fresh start for us both, Archie. Together."
That sounded just perfect.
***
Epilogue
One Month Later…
Avalon. Home.
Jasper stood in the doorway, surveying the social area like a king taking stock of his people. It didn't take him long to find the one person he was searching for, and his heart swelled at the sight of her. To think he'd almost blown it with her only a few weeks ago, he thought in disgust. This is what he would have been missing.
Anarchy waited for him in the pit, on her knees in her usual spot. Slim back straight, her beautiful ass perched on her heels, and her head bowed. Her hair was in a single braid, looped over her shoulder, and the emerald green leather collar he'd had engraved with Celtic knots circling her slender neck.
His kitten loved that damn collar, had taken to wearing it to work and outside the club. While it was a fashion accessory to some, to Jasper and Anarchy it had a much deeper meaning. She wore their commitment around her neck; Jasper had it etched into his skin. A matching strip of Celtic knots was inked above his pectorals.
Anarchy wanted a tattoo, but so far he'd managed to dissuade her from marring her beautiful skin. Not for too much longer, he feared. He'd promised her she could get a small one—emphasis on small—when she passed her first therapy milestone, and his kitten was taking his promise seriously. Dutifully, she attended her sessions with Connie three times a week for an hour at a time. She came home looking physically and mentally wrecked, but at the same time, there was usually an ounce of weight lifted from her shoulders.
With his cane in one hand, Jasper strode across the room without using it once. A small setback the first week of his recovery had fucked up his schedule. It sucked, but he'd learned a valuable lesson in how notto throw himself into a chair when recovering from spinal shock. The reminder had been blessedly short, but had made him much more careful for the following weeks.
Today, he'd been given the all-clear to resume any and all activities he wished. No swelling, no bruising, no residual numbness or paralysis. No more support needed to walk, he thought wickedly, slashing the cane through the air and making a nervous sub jump in surprise.
He stopped at the edge of the pit and grinned at his friends. They'd been a godsend over the past month, despite their own difficulties. Connie was only a phone call away if he needed her during one of Archie's destructive nightmares, but the Domme was slowly losing ground. She'd lost weight, her eyes hadn't regained their cunning edge, and she rarely played anymore.
Atticus played the part of a professional at work. True to his word, he'd already sent Archie on two courses and she'd come back with a huge smile on her face and exemplary marks. He had her spending more and more time with the tech team, learning everything they knew and encouraging her to develop her own style. She was quickly outgrowing her tutors.
After both Anarchy's apartment and his house had been broken into on that fateful night, Jasper had despaired over whether his security system was enough to protect his woman. It didn't matter that Erik and Gerald had smashed the tiny apartment up before they hunted Michael down outside Avalon and drove him to the ambush spot, or that Gerald had waited with him while Erik drove back to the club and primed the trap at the same time Oswald had been throwing rocks through the windows of Jasper's home.
The whole damn thing had been orchestrated.
Jasper had watched the interviews Atticus had taped with Erik, over and over again. It hadn't come as a surprise to learn that the twins had known about Jasper, had been taught to hate him as deeply as any human could hate another. They'd have killed him in an instant if their orders hadn't been to capture him and return him alive to Dominic.
The reason? Quite a simple one, really. Of all the children Dominic had fathered and Rita had raised, Jasper was the only one born to them both. No anonymous donor mother for him, no. He had the dubious honor of being a bonafide, raised in wedlock son of monsters.
There's more important things to worry about, he reminded himself, stepping over the ledge and down onto his seat. Atticus was doing his best to find Dominic and Rita in Australia. Braun and Bodie had made it another month along in their pregnancy, and Loki had so far managed to avoid getting his pretty face kicked in by an over-protective and envious Miriam.
All that was important, but his sub was his ultimate priority, waiting so patiently for him.
Jasper laid his cane along the padded seat, then grabbed her braid and began winding it around his hand and wrist until her head was held tight against him. Her neck arched, exposing her throat, and wide dilated chocolate eyes smiled up at him. "Who's a clever kitten?"
"I'm hoping the answer is me, Sir."
"Right answer, Anarchy. Do you know what tonight is?"
Arousal turned her eyes almost black as a blush rushed to stain her cheeks. Panting slightly, she squirmed and pressed her thighs together as best she could. "No, Sir. But if I tell you I love you, will that speed things up?"
Goddamn, he adored that sassy mouth. "I love you too, but no."
When she pouted, he bent and kissed her until she melted. Didn't stop until there was nothing but limp muscles and floppy limbs. She surrendered so beautifully when he asked her to, and tonight he had plans for every inch of her delectable body.
"Tonight, pretty kitten, is the night you cry for me."
The End
