Day 9: Part 2

Don't Forget You Wanted This, Bella

Even now, I couldn't have said what I spent the rest of the day doing, waiting for six o'clock to come around so I could go back to Jasper's and make him dinner. But, really, the next thing I knew, I was in his kitchen and grilling some steak in a large, wok-like pan.

Jasper had composed himself and he was now eating with the same infuriating grace he did everything else with. I had expected him to be brooding and condescending, considering one of his subs had bolted without so much as a note, but he seemed . . . radiant.

I had perhaps been staring, scrutinizing his expression, because he put down his fork and smiled at me.

I was so shocked that he was doing something aside from looking bored that, to my horror, I actually smiled back.

"Is there something you wish to speak to me about?" he asked softly.

I frowned. "Um, well, you seem . . . composed."

His smile widened. "Yes, I rather think I am. And trust me, Bella, you are not the only one who is surprised."

"Huh," I said, picking my fork back up and taking a large bite of mashed potatoes. "I mean, you know, it's just . . ."

Still grinning, he said, "As attractive as you are, talking with your mouth full of food, unfortunately I cannot understand what you are saying." I expected a slight form of rage to build in my chest, but he was looking so delicately at me that I realized he was teasing me.

I swallowed with effort and frowned again. "Right. Well, I don't know, I'm just . . . I don't know."

He nodded slowly, poking his fork into a few of the nasty green beans on his plate. "I know, Bella."

I was afraid to say Tanya's name; like it was some sort of taboo word that would bring a curse upon the household and turn Jasper back into an arrogant bastard. So instead, I worried by bottom lip and tried, with rather a small amount of effort, to not think about Tanya.

My stomach began to churn dully and though it was nowhere near panic, it was enough to made me put my fork down.

Jasper took a long sip of water and I watched, with muted fascination, as his Adam's apple dipped and bobbed with the effort of swallowing.

I kind of wanted to lick it.

"So, Bella," he said, putting the glass back on the table. "I was contemplating a variety of activities you and I could partake in this evening and I believe, if it so suits you, that I have come to a decision."

"Oh?"

"Yes," he said. "It involves the playroom." I must have blanched, because he raised a hand and smiled. "No, you are not, of course, being punished. The activity will be more . . . to your liking, I believe."

I felt my face grow hot. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

Without bothering to clear the table, he took my hand and led me upstairs. When I stepped through the magnificent metal door that separated the playroom from the rest of the house, it felt like I had never been inside it. The paneled walls and impossibly high ceiling were the same, of course, but again I felt that weird sensation that it had changed in some intangible way. That it had morphed again to my body, encompassing it even further, as though finally deciding to accept me into its existence. Yet, even as they warmed me, the imperceptible coils of the playroom suggested something a little more sinister. Perhaps a desperation of some kind. Because while the lengths of it tightened around my body, they didn't quite fit. As though they had been designed for someone else and I was being accepted only to fill a void.

A replacement.

I looked over at Jasper, who seemed to be having some sort of internal dialogue himself. He was taking slow looks around the room and though his face was calm, there was a sort of longing in the way his eyes travelled around the toys.

Perhaps it was because I had finally scared Edward away. Or perhaps it was because Tanya was now gone and all I had left was Jasper. I wasn't positive. But without thinking, I sidled myself up next to him and took his hand. It took him a few moments to look down at me and when he did, his eyes were unfocused. But then he smiled; a soft, warm smile that was so un-Jasper it made me want to cry.

The smiled brought me back to his office, when I had signed the contract and turned myself over to him. There had been a maniacal desperation in the way he moved and had accepted my harsh take on his personality as an Ultimate Truth. He had claimed he had respect for me and that I'd see another side of him. And standing here, looking at his non-defensive posture and the softness of his hand in mine, perhaps he was right.

I wasn't sure I liked it.

Just as quickly, I was seized with an inescapable urge to kiss him, to have him.

And so, I took.

I turned to him and wrapped my fingers in his hair. He smiled, that same placid, comforting smile that sent shudders of both apprehension and delight through my body. I cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down towards me. He chuckled softly.

"Oh, my Bella," he said before pressing his lips to my collarbone. He licked the skin there and then sucked lightly and more tremors flitted across my skin. He licked the skin below my chin and kissed the top of it, the side of it, underneath it. I moaned appreciatively and fisted his hair in my hands.

"Mmm," he said, flicking my earlobe with his tongue. "God, everything about you is amazing. Stunning." He moved his lips to my cheek, my eyes, my nose. "You are so beautiful and you do not even know it. I have wanted you for so long." I moaned his name and felt him shudder beneath my hands. "Oh, Bella. From the moment I saw you."

He pulled away and I swallowed. He pressed his forehead against mine and grinned in a wicked sort of way. "You know what you need?"

Your acceptance, I thought vaguely. Your confidence. Your unyielding sexual desire and domination.

"Hmm?"

"To experience the feather whip." He breathed the word into my mouth and I was once again hit with the unbelievably sweet scent of him. Fruit, roses, and something much, much sweeter. Almost too sweet. Like the kind of sweet frosting that makes you want to gag. But still, it was a nice smell. I breathed in deeply.

"Clothes off, please," he said. I slowly unbuttoned my pants, desperate to get them off as quickly as possible, but wanting him to take in the slow, painful sight of me as I undressed. He sighed when I pulled off my shirt and tossed it to the ground. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I discarded the rest of my clothing. Though I was naked in the sparsely furnished playroom my body thrummed with warmth.

"Oh, Bella," he said, taking a step towards me. "Bella, Bella, Bella. Please, sit on the bench."

I did as I was told.

He studied me for a moment, moving his eyes slowly over my naked form, before shaking his head. "No, I am afraid this just won't do." He stood there for another moment, watching my face as it contorted into confusion, before grinning. "I believe this calls for the table."

"Table?"

I looked around the room and spotted what I had originally believe to be a coffee table. Though it hadn't changed, for the first time I noticed that the corners seemed to have been removed and in their place were half-circles of empty space.

Ah.

Jasper held out his hand from me and I took it. Still grasping my hand, he pulled me towards him until his body was flush with mine. Chaste fingers roamed my shoulder blade and down my back, resting just above the smooth flesh of my ass. He didn't kiss me, only pressed himself harder against me, running his fingers in a delicate pattern across my body. I moaned, frustration getting the better of me, and he laughed before separating himself and taking me to the table.

I laid down on my stomach across the table, fitting my ankles into the rounded corners. I went to place my wrists in the other, but Jasper swatted at them and, from somewhere, produced a rope.

"Please, position yourself on your knees." He grabbed a pillow from one of the chairs and placed in on the table. "For your head."

He brought my arms behind my back and bound them together before wrapping the rope across my back and around my torso. Though I couldn't see the rope, I felt the intricate and carefully placed pattern of crisscrosses and loops. He tied my legs down to the table, but did not bind my ankles.

"Flex your fingers and toes for me, please."

I did.

"Where are we?"

"Green." The word was a gurgled mumble of frustration.

He came around the side of the table to look at me, one eyebrow cocked expectantly. I grinned.

"Green . . . Master."

At these words, I felt a surge of heat between my legs. I attempted to rub my legs together, to savor the friction, but found them securely wrapped to the table.

"Exactly," Jasper said, the beginnings of that wicked smile forming on the corners of his lips.

I breathed out a loud, disgruntled breath. His voice, his hair, his posture, his fucking cowboy boots. Japer was perfection. The Bible had nothing on this man and his playroom. This was heaven. I chuckled to myself but Jasper began to hum and, as they had so many times in the past, my eyes immediately went to him.

"Ah, yes," he said. "I believe this one should do."

I hadn't noticed him pacing the edges of the room, surveying the plethora of various toys. But when he plucked a whip down and unfurled it from its base, I moaned again. Then he cracked it into the almost empty room and though I jumped at the sound, goose bumps sprang and crawled eagerly across my body.

"God," I moaned, unable to stop myself as he unbuttoned his shirt. The whip bobbed as he moved and the small, delicate feather-looking attachment at the end of it. I watched his adroit fingers undo the buttons on his shirt and moaned quietly when he removed it and stood, bare-chested in front of me. The ripples of lean muscle that covered his arms and chest and ended at a light but defined happy trail that led underneath his cowboy-inspired belt buckle made me want to cry out in frustration.

He grinned. "I see this might not last long." Then he took long, deliberate steps towards me, letting me absorb his disgusting perfection and lanky, graceful movements, before disappearing behind me.

"Where are we?"

"Green, Master," I bit out and shuddered as the heat deepened between my legs.

"A count of ten," he said. "Are you ready?"

My throat was dry. "Yes, Master."

"Please count for me, Bella," he said and before I was able even nod in acquiescent, a loud crack filled the room. The sweetest, softest, most acute pleasure ran up my backside.

"O-One," I said.

Another crack and another slow, burning heat made its way through my body. I fought the urge to writhe.

"Two," I breathed with some effort.

Another crack. My toes began to tingle and I found them curling underneath me. I grabbed the rope with my fingers as best I could, hating that I couldn't hold onto something firmer. Impossibly, but with the exact precision only a master of whips could achieve, Jasper had landed three, perfectly accurate feather-light touches.

I needed more.

"Three," I said through clenched teeth.

I stopped counting after that. I had no idea how many cracks and moans of pleasure occurred, but long after I had stopped counting, Jasper continued to position the feather between my legs with unparalleled accuracy. I closed my eyes when a thin layer of sweat broke out across my skin.

"Oh, god," I moaned as the feather brushed delicately between my folds. "More."

Jasper deep, throaty chuckle caused me to moan again. I wanted that vibration on my body; wanted it between my legs and over my breasts and in my mouth.

"Master," I moaned loudly, shifting my weight in an attempt to rub my thighs together. "Please."

"Where are we?"

"Oh, god, green," I said, almost yelling it.

"How are you feeling, Bella?"

"So . . . good . . . Jesus."

"Would you like more?" he asked and I heard the sharp click of his cowboy boots as he approached me closer.

"Yes, please."

"How much more?"

I cried out in frustration. "Everything. I want everything."

"Are you ready?" he asked and then, without waiting for a reply, plunged himself inside me.

I immediately clenched around him and sighed a deep, throaty sigh once the entirety of him was in me. He didn't move for a long moment, just stayed there, his warm hands gripping each side of my ass. Then, with slow thrusts, he began to move, and that same fire, the fire that only Jasper could elicit, began to burn me alive.

I tried to unclench myself, tried to allow him room to move, but only succeeded for a moment before seizing up again. He hissed the moment I clenched again and then stopped moving.

"No, don't stop," I cried. "Don't stop."

He laughed quietly and then thrust, roughly into me. I felt the ropes tug at my arms and legs as he moved, relishing as the low burn heightened my arousal.

"Please, Bella," he said, his voice slightly off. "Please tell me how much you enjoy it when I whip you."

"So . . . much," I said, my face rubbing against the leather pillow as he moved. "I almost came."

The burning started in my toes and quickly traveled up my calf. I felt the table shift slightly and the sound of his boot hitting the edge of it as he brought his legs up. He removed himself slowly from me and plunged back in again. His fingers were digging painfully into my sides and between this and the ropes, I knew I would be covered in bruises tomorrow. But the thought of such a natural occurrence borne from an unbridled night of tortuous pleasure only spurred me. I smiled.

One of his hands left my hip and snaked across my back and around to my stomach. He trailed his fingers down my stomach and slipped one between my legs. And that was all it took. I cried out his name and he groaned once, loudly, before slowing his movements. Finally, he removed himself from me and I couldn't hide the sigh of disappointment at the loss of him.

"Where are we?"

"Green," I sighed again and felt my body go limp under the restraints.

He came around the side of the table to look at me and for a moment I couldn't look back. The only other time that Jasper and I had sex, he was sweet and kind before a during, but the moment it was finished, his defenses returned and he went back to the arrogant, hateful bastard I knew so well.

I tried to savor the moment that I had, without seeing that expression on his face, but I was acutely aware of the time I spent refusing to look at him. Finally, when I was sure I could handle it, I looked at him. When I did, he squatted down next to me and rested his forehead against mine. We were both sweaty and I grinned as we made contact with each other. He smiled back and though I was so close to him he looked like he only had one eye instead of two, it was more than clear that his expression was just as soft and warm as it had been before we fucked.

He took his face from mine and kissed my forehead. "Care for a bath, Bella?"

"I would love one," I said, smiling lazily at him. He undid my restraints and I allowed my body to flop down ungracefully on to the table, too tired and wrought to move. He didn't gather my clothing, only picked me up into his arms and carried me to the master bathroom.

When we reached the bathroom, I was furious that my first thought was of Edward. Edward's bathroom, with its beige walls and sand-colored tiles, simply radiated warmth and comfort. Jasper's bathroom had the same leather and chrome aloofness that permeated the rest of his house. I curled into his arms.

He set me down in the bathtub and pressed a few buttons on some sort of keypad next to it. I let my head loll back against the tub's rim, too exhausted to make an effort to lift it. Within seconds, warm water was coming from the faucet and making the cold porcelain a pleasant temperature. I heard the distinctive sound of clothes dropped and a moment later, Jasper was pulling me forward and situating himself behind me. He wrapped his legs around my calves and pulled my head back to rest against his chest. He snaked an arm around my stomach and pulled up, pressing me more firmly to him. He ran his fingers through my hair, sighing softly.

"That was incredible," I murmured, tilting my head back, with some effort, to look up at him. His eyes were closed but he nodded in agreement. He made lazy circles with his fingers on my stomach and hummed softly. I felt the delicious vibrations in his chest. He drew his hand from my stomach and pressed it between my breasts, feeling the beat of my heart through his palm.

Before I even realized I'd opened my mouth, I said, "I once begged a kid in my elementary school to tell me not to color with my red crayon unless he said I could."

Jasper removed his hand from my chest to wrap it around me. "I once took home the class pet hamster and left the door open. My dog at it."

"I stole my parents' car when I was fourteen and ran over a bunny. I made a grave for it in the backyard."

"When my grandmother died, I felt relieved because she had sucked the life out of the family."

"A friend of mine in high school threatened to commit suicide and I laughed it off. She succeeded."

"I threw up in one of my date's purses at a party and broke up with her the next day for accusing me of it."

"I'm still terrified of the dark."

"Someone else has to kill all the spiders in the house."

"I get excited about prepubescent '90s boy bands."

"I bore easily."

"I can't go to sleep if I'm wearing pants."

"I cannot sleep."

I looked up at him but his eyes were still closed. His face was calm, but his lips were turned down slightly at the edges.

"What's wrong," I asked.

"I am tired."

"Why can't you sleep?"

He opened his eyes and looked down at me and he really did look tired. The postcoital glow had faded and what remained was a sad, world-weary blankness. Dark, blue bags I had never noticed before sagged below his bottom lashes. It was the first time Jasper had ever looked anything but staggeringly attractive. I looked quickly away, unwilling to let my head go into that place. I had very few people in my life, really. Edward and Alice were gone, Emmett hadn't contacted me in quite a few days and I was sure that was over, my father was dead, my mother . . . well, I didn't know where my mother was. I hadn't spoken to her in years. All I had was Jasper. Jasper had filled a hole for me; a raging, sucking chasm that threatened to take me down with it.

"I have some news I'd like to share with you," he said. "It has been with me for a while, but I feel like now is the most appropriate time considering your . . . relaxed state."

"Oh?"

"Yes, as you are aware, James was apprehended by the police. There would have been, of course, a series of interrogations, criminal investigation, possibly a trail if James contested the arrest. In short, a series of things that I felt would have unnecessarily caused an unmanageable spike in your anxiety."

"Oh, god," I said. "You didn't have him killed, did you?"

Jasper pulled me tighter to him. "No, darling, of course not. I did, however, well, expedite the process a bit."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. James is currently in jail, serving an unspeakable amount of time for the crimes he committed."

"It's been like three days. How is that even possible?"

At first, I wasn't sure how I felt about it. It was quite a ballsy move on Jasper's part. But then, as my body sagged against his and I heard rather than felt a whoosh of relief leave my chest, I lost interest. He kissed the part in my hair and I felt a wide smile form on his lips.

"I am quite relieved you are in agreement," he said. "I was partly expecting you to be angry at not allowing his incarceration to be put in your hands, to tell your story."

"The only reason I'd want to tell my story is to put him there," I said. "And you've, well, apparently done that for me."

A warm bubbling of something bloomed in my chest. We sat in silence for a long time as I reveled in that feeling. It was a feeling I hadn't really ever had in Jasper's house. I felt that if I had closed my eyes right then, I could have fallen asleep.

"When was the last time you had a panic attack," Jasper asked in a slow monotone. I was no longer looking at him but I knew that voice; he was fucking exhausted.

I thought the answer would come easily to me. It always had in the past. Oh, twenty minutes ago. Or two hours. Or over breakfast. But now, I couldn't remember. Yes, I often felt pangs of nausea, but they were pretty quickly suppressed. I scrunched my face up. And then, like a bug slowly uncurling itself, I remembered.

"The day before you made me your sub."

Jasper sighed contently.

But, to my abject horror, I couldn't reciprocate his contentment. Instead, I felt a flourish of goose bumps rake up and across my chest. The water was still suitably warm, however, and I was buried chest-deep in it. In a fit of panic, I flung my arm across my chest and gripped the opposite shoulder. The gesture was more dramatic than I had intended and it only took Jasper a second to grip my hand and gently remove it until my chest was exposed.

He didn't say anything for a long time. I knew he was looking at me, watching the raised goose bumps that refused to go away. I willed them into submission, begged them to retreat so I could pretend to shudder from being cold. But after a moment, he laid my arm back across my chest.

In another, he told me it was bedtime.

He pulled the covers away from the bed as I stood awkwardly next to it, wondering if he was going to say something. As I knew, and as I knew he knew too, the goose bumps were my body's response to the discomfort I felt around him. To acknowledge that I was his sub and the result being discomfort turned outward on my body made me want to cringe.

But he said nothing. We both got into bed, naked and damp, and he wrapped his long arms around my small frame. He fell asleep quickly, while I stayed awake.

There were two or three moments during the night where I was sure he had said my name. And had given a few moans in between them. Whenever he did it, those traitorous fucking goose bumps would riddle my skin. It took a long time for me to fall asleep.

When I woke up, he was still lying next to me.