Chapter 36 Jasper
THIRTY-SIX
JASPER
On any average day, clothed or not, dressed to impress or lounging in sweats, Carter is always the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
If she has makeup on, or decides to go natural, hair done, or left in a bun, it doesn’t fucking matter, I could stare at her until my eyes literally fall out of my head.
But when Tyson poses her, puts her into the submissive mindset, I swear to everything that is holy she morphs into a fucking Goddess, the desire to please reflecting so heavily in her eyes that it takes everything in me not to just take her for myself.
The side of Tyson that has to be in control during sex can be invigorating, especially when it ends with all three of us feeling good, but other times, like right now, I want to rip the head from his body.
My girl quite literally has blood dripping from her lips, courtesy of a finger she sliced clean off a man’s hand, and all I want is to lose myself in her, to chase that fucked up high we both crave.
Instead of playing on our natural desires, he has her kneeling on the floor of the car, looking like a goddamn dream with her stained lips, but not allowed to touch us as she waits for further instructions.
I’ve been sporting a semi since she tied the man up, and I’m beginning to lose my patience, staring down at the girl who holds my entire universe in those perfect, baby blue eyes.
“Tyson,” she whimpers, inching forward slightly, attempting to make a move on him, but he holds up one finger, not even using words to remind her of what he expects.
We’re all on thin ice, dancing across the line of pleasure, but the wait is excruciating, and when we get back to our suite, I’m not sure how long I can hold back.
“Ty, maybe you’re being harsh,” I counter, hoping to get through his thick, stubborn head, but he keeps his stare forward, not making eye contact with either of us.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the driver comes to a stop, alerting us that we’ve arrived, and I’ve never breathed a deeper sigh of relief, desperate to get my hands on her body.
“Come here, Principessina,” I say softly, gently lifting her off the floor of the car, noting how red her knees are from the ride.
Normally, I don’t mind Tyson’s punishments, but this is taking it a step further than I’m comfortable with, not liking to witness my little ice princess in any kind of pain or predicament that seems uncomfortable.
“I’m fine, Jasper,” she whispers, climbing into my arms, likely reading through the rage in my eyes, and the shake in my bones.
“Just say the word, and I’ll put a stop to his reign of terror.” I gently kiss her neck, feeling as she cozies up to my chest, her delicate frame fitting perfectly against mine.
“It’s okay. I like when you listen to him, too,” she breathes, her muscles clenching as my lips travel down her collarbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her sensitive skin.
“I love you, my little butcher,” I say into her ear, feeling the goosebumps prickle her arms, and her body flush with heat in response to my words.
“I love when you say that,” she quips, raking her hands through my hair, tugging at the root with force.
“I’ll throw you to Tyson with no mercy.” I smack her ass, the sharp sting echoing around the limo, and she giggles, grinding against the bulge in my pants that hasn’t gone down in what feels like hours.
“I love you, too, Jasper.” She presses her lips to mine sweetly, in a way that solidifies our feelings, causing the world to spin on its axis again, my universe only surviving with her words of confirmation.
“Let’s go, you devious bloodhounds,” Tyson calls, interrupting our moment, and holding his hand out for Carter to take.
“I can’t go into the Plaza looking like this,” she argues, motioning toward her blood-stained dress, and equally filthy face, her tanned skin marked in a beautiful shade of crimson.
“There’s a discreet elevator for suite holders, baby girl. Come on,” he urges, and after a few beats, she listens, knowing that even if he’s unleashed his own beast, he always has her best interest at the forefront of his mind.
Even as we all pile into the service elevator, Tyson’s wild eyes exude pure rage, the kind that he usually can repress, but I have a feeling the disappearing, mixed with a front row seat to the torture, has pushed him too far over the edge.
Normally, I’m all in for whatever he has in store for Carter and I, but tonight, I’ll be keeping a close eye on him, not letting his demons overpower the rational side of himself that I can trust when in control.
Carter stands with her back against the wall, hands pinned to the metal bar, just as he ordered, and although she looks lonely, the exhilaration in her eyes is just as present.
She loves this shit, and I can balance the urge to keep her comfortable, versus the parts of her that want this rough treatment more than she’d ever admit out loud.
It’s unusually quiet, the three of us always talking, joking around, or kissing Carter while we have a few down moments, but the silence has materialized into tension, so much so that I can feel it in my bones.
“Strip and wait for us in the bedroom, Carter,” Tyson says as the elevator dings, opening up right into our suite, and she immediately follows his orders. “Keep the heels on.”
She stops for a quick second, resuming her pace, likely with a smirk on her face as she rounds the corner, disappearing from sight.
“I swear, if you take it too far, I won’t hesitate to knock you out,” I warn, stepping in front of him, effectively blocking him from any attempt at escaping this conversation.
“I’d never hurt her,” he says, but his words don’t meet his eyes, the cold, unforgiving look sending a shiver down my spine, proving that I’m right to trust my instinct on this.
“Really? It doesn’t seem like the you that I know is in control. Your darkness is showing, Ty,” I attempt to point out, coming from a place of understanding, but he brushes past me, not interested in talking this out.
Keeping my eyes trained on him, I watch as he pours a drink, slugging back the brown liquor without hesitation, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping that for Carter’s sake, he can hold himself together.
“I’m in control, okay? I would never, ever hurt that girl, no matter what she does to me.
I thought we fucking lost her today, and if I can scare her straight, just a little bit, in order to keep that from happening again, I will.
” He doesn’t turn around, look me in the eye, or say another word, leaving it at that while he walks toward the bedroom.
“Baby girl. You better be waiting for us,” he calls out, a menacing tone in his voice, and I decide to trust his words, knowing that Carter has more power over him than anyone else has ever come close to.
Following a few steps behind, I nearly trip over my own feet as our girl is kneeling on all fours in the middle of the bed, in nothing but those sparkly black heels, paired with a sinister smile on her face.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe, earning a side-eye glare from Tyson, but I don’t pay him any mind, not when my Principessina is displayed right in front of me, looking like my own personal taste of Hell on Earth.
He doesn’t say a word, ripping the belt from his dress pants in a swift motion, folding it in half and holding the end and buckle in one hand.
She jumps at the sound, her dark curls falling to her face, but never breaking position as her chest rises and falls, the curiosity coursing through her veins like adrenaline.
“Pick a number,” he commands, standing in front of her with the belt, towering over her petite body like a human giant, but she doesn’t even bat an eyelash.
“Four,” she says softly, the confidence in her voice only adding to the moment, and Tyson feels it, his shoulders stiffening as he tries to stay in control.
If it were me, I’d already have folded, caving in to those beautiful eyes and giving her whatever the hell she asked for, but Tyson is a different animal when he’s playing this way.
First, he has to punish her for scaring him, for going rogue on us in the restaurant, and he won’t stop until he’s satisfied with her apology.
He only nods, taking her chin between his fingers and pressing a quick kiss to her lips, the first form of affection he’s shown.
“I want you to count each one out loud, understand?”
“Yes, Tyson,” she answers, shifting a little as she braces for impact, and I too, feel the muscles in my body tighten, unable to look away from the beautiful trainwreck happening right before my eyes.
In a matter of seconds, he slaps the leather across her ass, rubbing the place where the belt left a welt, and she digs her nails into the comforter, attempting to remain emotionless.
“One,” she whines, dropping her head as he winds up again, and her body flinches right before impact.
Her sharp inhale, along with the slap of her skin, is the only sound in this room, but I’m not sure how much of this I can take, it feels too much like a way of asserting dominance, and crossing the line with violence.
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
After the fourth, tears are streaming down her face, her skin redder than the blood on her lips, and once he drops the belt on the floor, I race to her place on the bed, scooping her into my arms.
“I’ve got you now, Carter. You’re okay,” I whisper in her ear, and she buries her face in my chest, her sobs slowing down, but her heart still thrashing wildly in her chest.
“You did so good, baby girl.” Tyson smoothes her hair, dragging a hand down her face, and she smiles up at him, the praise causing goosebumps to prickle her skin.
His eyes have returned to normal, the fire behind his irises long gone, and I can finally relax, thankful he kept his word not to hurt her.
He has complex ways of working out his anxiety, or frustrations, but luckily Carter can handle whatever is thrown at her, and loves to act out fantasies that live inside her head.
“We aren’t done with her, Massi,” Tyson says, moving from the bed to a chair in the center of the room, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Are you okay with more?” I ask, placing her back on the mattress, but ensuring she’s alright before we move any further.
“I’m fine, Jasper. I’m not that easy to break,” she smirks, thick mascara stains under her eyes, but I can only smile, knowing how strong she truly is.
“I’ll remember you said that, my little slut.” I tug at her bottom lip with my thumb, watching as she attempts to catch it, but I back away, leaving her to writhe on the bed in anticipation of what’s to come.
Grabbing another chair and sitting next to Tyson, who still hasn’t stopped staring at Carter, but when I look at her, I instantly understand why.
She looks like an angel of darkness, her bloody lips and black eyes drawing me in, but even from across the room, I can feel her depravity, the desperate way her body craves what only we can give her.
“Crawl to us, Carter. On all fours, crawl to your men,” Tyson orders, getting comfortable in the chair as he spreads his legs wide, tapping his lap for emphasis while she slowly climbs off the bed.
It’s such a beautiful sight that I couldn’t possibly tear my eyes off her, skin shining under the light as she moves in slow motion, crawling across the floor with her lips pouted, and gaze trained on Tyson.
“That’s it. Stop right here,” he instructs, and she sits on her heels, hands perfectly positioned behind her back while I inhale a sharp breath, barely hanging on by a thread.
Patience isn’t my strong suit, and seeing Carter like this, so willing to obey, has my cock harder than it’s ever been, the pain almost too much to bear.
“Open your mouth.” He traces her lips with a finger, pushing onto her tongue at an excruciating pace, slicking through her saliva while drops of drool fall down her chin.
“Jesus Christ, Principessina,” I breathe, unable to keep myself quiet, even if I’m breaking their trance, her eyes quickly meeting mine, then fleeting back to Tyson’s.
Minutes pass as he keeps testing her gag reflex, adding more fingers while she expertly keeps the poker face intact, whimpering each and every time he pulls out, her body shaking from how worked up she is.
Watching Carter acknowledge this side of herself, the one that enjoys being sexually and emotionally dominated, has been one the greatest pleasures I’ve ever been witness to.
When she first came to us, she was timid, afraid of speaking up or admitting what she likes, but now, the final transformation is occurring right before my eyes.
She’d stay like this all night, not expecting an ounce of pleasure, but taking pure delight in giving us what we want, what Tyson tells her to do, and I’m lucky enough to have a front row seat.
She’s the only thing on my mind, completely consuming my every thought, even when our lives are days away from erupting, I can only focus on my little temptress of death, happy that if I go, at least I’ll be with her.