Beyond Shame (28 page)

"He's coming down like that on everyone, not just you." Jasper stuffed her money back in her pocket and started for the bathroom. "We're all on restriction, for obvious reasons."

"I know. Lex is in a mood about it." Which was the politest way to describe her temper. Everyone had tiptoed around her today—except for Dallas. He'd acted like nothing was wrong, and that had only pissed Lex off worse.

Jasper set Noelle down and cut on the shower. "Dallas has his asshole moments, but this isn't about some sexist bullshit. I think there's something else going on with them."

Noelle couldn't argue with that, but she didn't want to discuss it, either. Lex's pain was too real—too
raw
—to make gossiping about it anything other than cruel. "Are we taking a shower?" she asked instead, watching as he fiddled with the knobs. Sex against the tiles would be delicious, she imagined, hard and slippery and quick, no time for the slow torment Jasper loved so much.

He made a noncommittal noise and stripped his shirt over his head before turning his attention to the hooks on her corset. Each gave way with a soft click, her breasts spilling free as he unhooked the final fastening and let the structured leather slide to the floor.

God, she loved the way he looked at her. He traced the very tips of his fingers across her shoulders and down the slopes of her breasts, stopping just shy of her nipples. "Want me in there with you?"

"Yes." She arched her back, pressing up into his touch as she reached for his belt. "You're all I want tonight. Just...you. Wherever, however."

"However?" His hands dropped to her ass, and he dragged her closer.

The movement left her hands pinned between their bodies, her fingers crushed against the solid heat of his abdomen. His skin was so close to her mouth that she couldn't stop herself from kissing him, parting her lips against his shoulder before stealing a taste.

She had to be honest. She had to say
yes
, before he even asked the question. "Maybe fucking, if you want."

"Mm-hmm." He released her and backed away. "Clothes, Noelle. Take them off."

She started with her cutoff shorts, dragging the zipper open before wiggling the denim off her hips with enough gyrating to make Lex proud, though with a fraction of the other woman's grace.

At least Jasper didn't laugh at her.

She had to bend down to unfasten her shoes, presenting Jasper with an unobstructed view of her ass covered only by her favorite ruffled panties. That part of the fantasy matched her imagination, and she peeked up at him as she worked at the second buckle. "Should I take yours off next?"

He shook his head and unbuckled his belt. "Get under the water."

His voice held an implacable edge. It was an order, for all the easiness of the words, and she slipped out of her underwear and obeyed.

He stood at the open shower door and watched her as he took off his pants. "I like the way the water drips off of you. The way your skin looks when it's wet."

Noelle shivered under his gaze, though the water was so hot steam drifted up around her. "I like the way you watch me. It makes me wetter."

The shower stall seemed roomy—until Jasper stepped into it. He loomed over her, pressing her against the tile. "How wet?"

Words froze in her throat because it was hard to breathe with him stealing all the air from the tiny space. She wanted him so much that she started to reach for him, then hesitated and lifted her arms above her head instead. "You could touch me and find out."

His erect cock nudged her hip as he closed the scant space between them and rested one arm against the tile. He slid his other hand down, over the crest of one breast and farther. To her upper thighs. "Open."

She inched her legs apart without looking away from him. "That word makes me wetter, too. It used to be such an innocent word, but now..."

Jasper arched an eyebrow but didn't move his hand. "Now that you know all the delicious ways you can be opened?"

"No," she whispered, spreading her legs wider. "Now that I know all the ways I can open for you."

"You don't know them all." His fingers slipped over her folds, parting them, wet from the water
and
her arousal. "Not yet. But you will."

This was heaven and hell in one. The slow glide of his fingers working against her, sparking pleasure from the touch and kindling a deeper anticipation. Her nipples tightened into aching points, and she dropped one hand to soothe that need, stroking herself with a sigh. "I'll do anything with you."

He moved fast, jerking her hand back over her head. "Leave them there."

Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she stretched her arms up until her hands brushed the shower fixture. She curled her fingers around it as her rasping breaths echoed in the shower stall.

She couldn't move, but she could speak. It was good practice for the next time Dallas decided to hold her release hostage to her willingness to say obscene things. "My nipples ache. I want you to touch them."

Jasper ran his hand down her body again, avoiding the tips of her breasts. "I'll get around to it."

Impossible not to whimper at that, and she twisted a little, rubbing her hip against his cock with a groan. "Did you bring me in here to tease me?"

He closed his eyes, but only for a moment. When he opened them again, they were blazing. "This is what it means to belong to me—that you trust me to give you what you need. Can you handle it?"

She did trust him. She trusted him all the more
because
he was teasing her, because it twisted her up and made her wild, and he knew how to make it exactly what she needed. He knew how to turn her inside out.

His eyes were so dark. So intense. She wet her lips and nodded once. "I can handle it. I trust you. Just because I beg for something else, that doesn't mean I want you to give it to me. Sometimes I like it more when you tell me no."

"Do you think I need to be told that?"

No, he knew. He'd known all along, while she had struggled to make sense of the shame and the need. She tightened her grip on the fixture and shook her head. "No."

"Then hush." He drew his thumb over her lower lip. "Stop telling me that you trust me and show me instead."

He didn't wait for a response before dipping his hand between her thighs. Two of his fingers eased inside her. He began to move them in rhythmic motions, rubbing against her inner walls and pushing deeper with every stroke. Pleasure built, brick by brick, each stroke almost inconsequential on its own but part of a slow-rising tension that had her squirming, fighting the urge to rise on her toes to steal a moment's respite or rock against his hand to hurry his pace.

Trust. She had to show it, even if her entire body ached now, hungry for harder and faster and
more
.

His touch slowed. He slipped his fingers free of her body, teased them over her clit, and lightly caressed her inner thighs.

Then he started all over again.

Noelle whimpered, unable to control the desperate twist of her hips as she chased his retreating touch.

Jasper pressed his lips to her cheek. "No matter what you say, what
I
say, this is undeniable. You, moving your body. Fucking my fingers. That's what I pay attention to."

His beard scraped her skin, but she rubbed her face against his, hungry for any chance to touch him. "Do you want me to fuck your fingers?"

"Not consciously. I don't want you to decide to." He trailed his lips over to her ear. "That's why I didn't ask. I made it happen."

Hot breath tickled over damp skin, sending tingles shivering through her until she squirmed again. There was something dangerously seductive in his words, a promise that he'd been watching her, learning her, that he understood all the dark twists and turns that made up her desire and wouldn't hesitate to follow them.

She could have anything she wanted—everything—but only if she trusted him to give it to her. Only if she waited. Not passively, because there was nothing passive in the restraint it took not to reach for him, not to dig her nails into his shoulders and beg, but that was the sweetest part of the game. Her fingers would be numb from clutching at the fixture, and she didn't care. The discomfort was part of the pleasure, just like the anticipation. The mystery of wondering when she'd snap, and what he'd do to drive her there...

And the reward. Oh God, the reward would be sweet.

"Yes." He worked a third finger into her pussy, stretching her as he watched her face. It was intense, considering the size of his hands, filling her until she hissed in a breath and inched up on her toes in an attempt to slow his advance.

He gave her no respite. Instead, he followed, thrusting his fingers deeper.

Yes.
She couldn't stop panting long enough to say the word, but surely he could read it in her eyes as she forced her feet back to the ground. The slick tiles and the steam and the hot water became secondary sensations, fading into the background as every squirm of her hips elicited more pleasure
and
discomfort, a heady mix that only made her hotter.

"You want it to stop," he whispered, "you tell me
no
. Anything else, and I'll keep going."

She nodded to show her understanding, then sucked in a deep breath and begged. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

He urged her hands from the showerhead and turned her around to the opposite side of the stall. His wide shoulders blocked the spray, and he pushed her arms above her head again as water trickled out of her hair. Bending his head, he caught a drop as it gathered on her nipple. Pleasure jolted through her, bringing her up on her toes as she pressed greedily toward his mouth.

The rasp of his tongue was so sweet it melted away what was left of the stretching pain of his fingers. She shifted her hips in tiny movements, shocked by how quickly
too much
had become
not enough
.

Jasper surged up and kissed her, his teeth scraping her bottom lip as he rocked his hand. Away, slowly, but when the hard press of his fingers returned, the stretch was harsher, almost unbearable.

Four fingers. It had to be. Nothing else would feel so commanding, so beautifully overwhelming, and hard on the heels of the realization came that
moment
, the one where surprise twisted into helpless arousal. Shame should have followed, the dizzying tangle of emotions, good and bad, that always sent her flying.

Not this time. Oh, she was flying, but not because of some empty inhibition that would leave her drowning in guilt and regret. She was high on being filthy, on choosing sin and loving it, on being wanted for loving it.

As long as they both wanted it, nothing Jasper did to her would ever shame her.

Noelle pressed her open mouth to Jasper's cheek as she shuddered. "I love your fingers."

"I know." He bit her ear, sharp and rough. "What should I put inside you next?"

The words forced a groan from her. If he stroked her clit, she'd come like this, riding too many of his fingers in the haze where pain meant pleasure. But she didn't ask for it, didn't beg.

He knew.

"Anything," she rasped instead, trembling against the slick tiles. "Anything you want. Because I'm dirty."
And you like me that way.

"Indecent," he agreed. His thumb rubbed slow circles over the outer and then inner lips of her pussy, venturing closer and closer to her clit. "Vulgar. Wicked."

She couldn't focus on his words, only the path of his thumb. She held her breath every time it started another upward arc, straining, praying he'd edge just a little higher, only to voice her protest with a whimpered moan when his touch receded again. Her fingernails dug into her palms as she struggled not to reach for him, not to reach for
herself
and seize her own release with a quick, rough touch.

Her pussy clenched hard around his intruding fingers. So close. So damn
close
—

He shifted his hand, and the teasing promise of his thumb on her clit vanished. Instead, he curled his fingers inside her and thrust his hips close to hers, and the length of his cock, steely but soft, glided over her clit. Not enough friction, not nearly enough, though that stopped mattering as soon as he ground against her with a delicious groan.

She came without warning, without realizing the tension had snapped until she heard her own voice bouncing off the stall walls, wordless, moaning cries that crested with every violent shudder.

Jasper didn't stop. He pressed her against the tile, his hips still moving, his cock caught between his hand and her pussy. Her knees melted, and she clutched at his shoulders as the grinding pressure of his shaft set off another wave, little pulses of pleasure that peaked as her inner muscles gripped his fingers.

"Oh God." Her voice, raspy and pleading, and she thumped her head back against the tile when he kept grinding, kept fucking them both, until she was so wet and hot that even four fingers didn't hurt anymore, and she told him so in broken, sobbing gasps, begging him to shove them deeper, to give her everything, to make her feel it, to
own
her.

He bit her again, this time hard enough to bruise, his teeth sharp on the soft underside of her jaw. His groans intensified along with his thrusts, built until his fingers jerked and his body tensed, straining. He came, semen splashing hot on her hip as he pulsed against her.

"Jas..." She shivered and let her head fall forward, burying her face against his throat. Even that tiny movement shifted her body on his fingers, and she whimpered as the friction abraded hypersensitive nerves.

He distracted her with a kiss as he eased his fingers free of her body, his chest heaving. "Okay?"

Her nod rubbed her cheek over his shoulder, but she realized that might not be enough. She needed to find a verbal reassurance, but her tongue tripped over even simple words. "Better'n okay. Good. So good."

"Mmm." He guided her under the warm spray again and picked up the soap. In moments, she was soapy and slick, wallowing in the sensual glide of his hands over her skin.