Chapter 25 - Mara
TWENTY-FIVE
MARA
Jasper doesn’t come back to himself after Chase dies.
He just empties.
One second, his hands are locked around a throat, the next, they’re hanging at his sides, and he’s slumped on the floor like someone cut the strings to him.
I’m at his side instantly, fingers digging into his arm, bracing him. “Jasper,” I whisper, close to his ear, but he doesn’t look at me.
My ex-fiancé’s body hangs limp behind us, eyes staring at nothing.
Chase Harrington.
Dead.
Murdered, by the man I love.
It was the first time I’ve ever watched someone die.
Dredyn and Talon move immediately, transitioning into cleanup easily, while I’m holding Jasper who’s going into shock. I don’t look at them, or Chase, again.
“Hey,” I murmur, tightening my grip on Jasper and pulling him toward me. “You’re with me. You hear me?”
Nothing.
He’s going into shock.
Talon’s gaze flicks up and registers what’s happening instantly. He leans down, sliding Jasper’s arm over his shoulder and gets him on his feet. The three of us make it to the stairs with me on Jasper’s other side.
“I’ve got him,” I say to Talon who lets him go.
Jasper stumbles on the first step, but I tighten my hold and the both of us take the stairs one at a time until we’re at the top. I steer Jasper down the hallway, straight into the primary bathroom.
I place him in the shower and turn the water on full blast. He stands there, underneath the water, fully clothed, the black tee now plastered to his chest, jeans darkening as water soaks through. He braces one hand against the tile like it’s the only thing keeping him from collapsing again.
His body starts to shake, adrenaline dumping. I stand there for one heartbeat, watching the man I love unravel while the echo of a dead man’s last breath still rings in my ear.
I begin to strip my clothes away and step in behind him.
My hands find his shoulders, sliding down his arms and peeling the soaked shirt up over his head.
He lifts his arms with ease, allowing me.
Then I unbuckle his belt, shoving the jeans down over his thighs, kneeling to tug them free.
He steps out of them, kicking them aside.
He’s beautiful in that tragic, brutal way. His cock hangs heavy, flushed and half-hard even now. Even shattered, his body wants.
Wants me.
And God help me, I want him wrecked.
Then he collapses forward, forehead to tile, body wracked in silence.
I wrap around him from behind, pressing my bare chest to his spine, arms circling his waist. I hold him like I can keep the pieces from falling all the way apart.
His breath stutters then steadies as one of his hands slides over mine, then the other. He grips them hard.
And turns.
His eyes are red, wrecked, and burning. His hand cups my jaw, thumb dragging over my bottom lip like he needs the feel of me to believe I’m real.
That this is real.
That he’s still here.
His mouth crashes into mine and his tongue invades my mouth, desperate and starved.
He kisses me like he’s trying to crawl inside me and stay there.
His hand fists my now wet hair, yanking my head back so he can take more.
I claw him back, nails raking his chest, leaving red marks behind.
He growls into my mouth, hips grinding against mine, cock thick and heavy where it presses to my stomach.
“I need you.” I reach for him, but he catches my wrists and pins them against the tile above my head with one hand. His eyes lock onto mine, now red-rimmed and burning.
Then he sinks to his knees, water pouring over his shoulders as he spreads my thighs with his hands. His mouth hovers there as he looks up at me, asking for permission.
I nod.
His tongue drags slowly up my slit, and my knees buckle. He steadies me with an iron grip on my hips, pinning me to the wall, and devours me. Teeth graze my clit, then his tongue circles and thrusts inside. I’m gasping, fingers clawing uselessly at the tile.
Come off the edge for me, Jasper.
He growls against me, the vibration alone almost sending me into an orgasm. But then he rises, surging up and bracketing my face with both hands, water pouring between us. He slides his cock through the slick between my thighs.
“Turn,” he signs. And I obey instantly.
My palms slam against the cold tile as he fists my hair, yanking my head back, exposing my throat. His teeth sink into my neck—a sharp bite, then a kiss.
“Stay,” he breathes against my ear.
His hand slides down my body, past my belly, between my legs, finding me drenched. He lets out a groan.
His fingers work me open, circling my clit with ruthless intent, before thrusting inside. He builds me up like he knows my body better than I do.
“Jasper—fuck—please—”
He stays silent.
The only sounds are my gasps, the water, and the slick, obscene noise of his fingers inside me. His silence only makes everything louder.
I’m falling apart.
“Come. Now.”
The command tears through me like a blade.
I come hard, back arching, forehead to the tile, body shaking as I clamp around his fingers. My moan echoes through the shower like a war cry.
But he doesn’t stop.
He yanks my hips back, lines up, and shoves inside in one brutal thrust, so deep I scream.
He fucks me like he’s digging her ghost out of his chest and burying it in me. Like this is penance. Like I’m the altar and he’s the knife.
“Mine.” His voice is a snarl.
“Yours—fuck! Yes... yours—”
He pulls me upright, and my back arches against his chest. One hand wraps around my throat, thumb stroking my pulse.
“Look,” he growls.
I twist, meeting his eyes over my shoulder.
And it’s devastating. His red hair falls over his eyes, moving with every thrust he gives me.
“Don’t leave.”
“Never,” I rasp. “Jasper... never—”
That’s all it takes.
He buries his face in my neck, hips stuttering as he comes, hot and deep. The sound he makes is half sob, half roar, and my body clenches around him as I fall again—another orgasm crashing into me so hard I cry out his name.
He holds me through it, his body shaking against mine.
Then he pulls out and turns me, pulling me tight to his chest. We stay there for a few minutes as the water finally turns cold.
“I heard her,” he murmurs into my hair. “In his voice—calling for me. She was there.”
My chest aches. “Jasper—”
His hand strokes my back. “I know it wasn’t real, but for a second, I thought she saw it. That she knew he paid the price, finally.”
I cup his face, forcing him to look at me. Water slips down his cheeks, hiding what might be tears.
“She knows. She’s at peace now, because of you.”
His thumb brushes my lip.
“With you, I don’t have to be silent. But I choose it sometimes... because it makes you listen harder.”
And fuck, if that isn’t the most intimate thing he’s ever said.
His silence isn’t trauma.
It’s control.
His power.
His choice.
“I’ll always listen,” I swear. “No matter how you choose to speak.”