Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(53)

It seems kind of like adding insult to injury at this point.

After I finally escaped from the group meeting earlier, I’d needed to shower and change before I started feeling anything like myself again. “Jasper is kinda . . . Well. I mean, he’s a—”

“A sadist,” Eden whispers. Her blue-gray eyes are adorably wide behind her glasses.

I shrug and quirk a smile. “Yeah, I guess. And a dominant. You remember we were in a kink club when it all got real? Well, that’s kinda why you got stuck with the more colorful personalities in the troop.”

She blinks at me, then leans against the table, seeming to take that in. “So he wants to hurt me?”

Her voice sounds small, and I just barely stop myself from wrapping her in a hug. Damn it. Jasper should be explaining this. I try to think of a way to put it that won’t freak her the hell out.

“Only if you want him to. It’s only fun for him if you’re into it too. I guess— I mean, part of the appeal for him is pushing you to your limits, and making you want to be pushed there. Pain can heighten the pleasure of sex for some people.”

Eden turns the shade of sun-curdled cauliflower.

Oo-kay. Screwed that one up.

“Not for me,” she insists. One delicate hand flutters to her throat where her pulse pounds. “I wouldn’t like that.”

I must have hesitated a moment too long because her chin lifts in defiance. “I wouldn’t!”

I give her my best grin, lifting my palms in surrender. Then, once her chin starts to lower to a normal level, I add quickly, “But just hear me out.”

She huffs in exasperation, but a hint of amusement eases into her features.

Good. I want her to relax around me. Lord-our-deeply-ashamed-father knows she won’t get much chance around the rest of these idiots.

“You said you had fun with Jaykob, right?”

Her cheeks pinken.

“Um . . . fun might not be exactly the right word,” she says, “but yes, I— I did enjoy myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying pain, beautiful. Or putting yourself in someone else’s control, so long as you trust them not to abuse it,” I tell her gently, earnestly. “You were covered in bruises, and knowing Jayk, he probably threw you around a bit, huh? I’m guessing he was a little rough?”

I don’t need her tentative nod to know I’m right; I saw her this morning, and I saw the way the big bastard fucked often enough back in the day. Of the five of us, only Jasper was ever worried about privacy. I’ve never been able to decide if it was a blessing or a curse that I never saw Jasper dominating anyone else.

The way Eden’s eyes cloud with lust does nothing to help my hard-on.

I clear my throat and continue, “But you still had a good time. For some people, that kind of treatment during sex just makes them feel more desired. Like they can’t get enough of you. The pain and the pleasure kind of blend together, right?”

Her embarrassment seems to have faded slightly and her look of thoughtful concentration has me biting back a smile. Fuck she’s cute. Her lower lip is caught between her teeth and small frown lines appear between her brows. Apparently considering the theory, rather than how it applies to her, is more acceptable.

“So you know that having both pain and pleasure isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Now, Jasper, he just kind of takes that to the next level. He likes delivering pain in a controlled way, doling it out like a treat or a punishment until your body wants the pain. It brings your pleasure to a different level. It’s full-on. Exhausting, both physically and mentally. But it can feel fucki— I mean, it can feel good. Really good.”

Rapturous. Blissful. Agonizing.

I don’t have the words to describe this to her properly. How can I explain the need to venerate his cruelty? The craving for the sweet-sharp lashes of his cane? For the unbearably soft kindnesses between? How good it feels to free-fall into darkness with someone, knowing they’ll save you and punish you for the favor all at once?

Do I really want to explain this to her? Maybe it would be better for all of us if she ran far, far away from Jasper.

Or maybe it would just be better for me.

She glances up at me at the last, and I ready for her to scold me on my language, but there’s something too assessing in her gaze, and I realize that isn’t what caught her attention.

I shift. Damn it. I get enough of those looks around here. I want her smiling again. I’m not good with the serious stuff. After today, I’ve had enough serious to last a lifetime. I feel raw, like an exposed nerve, but being with her is a sweet kind of balm.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” she says tentatively, the unasked question clear in her voice.

“Oh. Yeah, well. Yeah. I . . . do.”

Smooth, motherfucker. Smooth as asphalt. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not sixteen anymore. I know how to talk about sex.

“With Jasper, even,” I add thoughtlessly.

Her mouth drops open and her eyes widen. Not in disgust, I note, even as I continue to swear at myself for being a fucking idiot. More like curiosity.

“So you’re . . . bisexual?”

Aw hell. It’s way too early to be having this conversation.

“Well, yeah. But not like that. Not with Jasper, anyway. I mean, he doesn’t— We don’t—” I stop, then start laughing at myself. This is ridiculous. How am I even having this conversation after today? I have to laugh or this is going to turn into some kind of rom-com where she ends up stroking my hair, and I tearfully confess my soul to her. I scrub a hand over my face and give her a rueful look. “I think your tongue-tied disease is catching, woman.”