Jasper squirmed as Vincent nudged his finger deeper, his hips jerking forward at the thought of Vincent’s mouth on him. No way would Vincent really do that. Would he? “No. Wait,” he groaned, trying to get away from the finger and only managing to rub against Vincent. “Please.”

Vincent stilled with a soft hum. “Please what?”

Jasper squirmed as embarrassment crawled through his veins, dropping his forehead to Vincent’s shoulder. Bastard. Of course he was the perfect few inches taller. “Please…. Foreplay.”

Vincent hummed again as if considering it, then pulled his hand away. “I don’t think you’ve earned it.”

Jasper swallowed, a strange warmth spreading through him. He wanted Vincent to tell him he’d earned it. He wanted—he very much wanted—to earn it.

He turned his head, carefully nuzzling against Vincent’s neck. “How can I?” he asked, momentarily distracted by how good Vincent smelled. Sandalwood and citrus. “Sir.”

Vincent slid his fingers into Jasper’s hair again and pulled. Not hard, disappointingly, but tight enough that Jasper swallowed a groan. Vincent studied him with his intense hazel eyes for a moment before loosening his grip. “Ask nicely for what you want.”

Heat crept into Jasper’s face as he imagined all the things he could ask for. He never thought he’d ever be in this kind of situation in real life. Standing in a private room in a fetish club. With an actual Dom. If there was anyone on the planet he could actually ask to indulge any of his fantasies—

But he was already tied up. Kinda. He wasn’t sure he could handle adding blindfolds or gags tonight.

His attention flicked to Vincent’s lips, and he tipped his head back. “Will you kiss me?”

“With pleasure.” Vincent’s fingers caught Jasper’s chin, holding him steady as he closed the distance between them.

And fuck, Vincent could kiss. He kissed Jasper with intention. Like kissing was his sole purpose of existence. Maybe it was all part of being a Dom, but Jasper could get used to it far too easily. No one had ever kissed him like it was a luxury rather than a means to an end. By the time Vincent’s lips ghosted across Jasper’s jaw and moved to his neck, his apprehension at being bound and helpless faded. Forming in its place was something else he was all too familiar with.

Infatuation.

He stared at the ceiling and fought the sudden urge to laugh. Fuck, what was wrong with him? He’d sworn off anything close to relationships after the last one ended in a dumpster fire. Like hell he was going to even think about getting involved with Vincent. As if it were even possible. This was a one-time deal. A bit of fun before the next semester started.