Jasper's Soul Mate (18+)

Chapter 3: Perverted

 "Funny how you're the broken one, but I'm the only one who needed saving."

-Rihanna, Stay

"I, Jasper, submit to you."

The baritone of his steady voice makes the tingling turn into full-on need, and since I haven't already learned my lesson from my slip on the floor, I step into the shower.

It's one of those grand open ones that has no doors, just ornate tile flooring that slants into a drain beneath the two shower heads. This one has a special perk—mirrored walls. Right now the room is too steamy to use them to my advantage. But from what little I can make out through the heavy mist in front of me, I see Jasper's form kneeling in front of the back wall.

I tiptoe cautiously behind him, keeping what seems a good distance between us in case I have to make a break for it. Like a grade-A pervert.

In my defense, I'm still not sure what's compelling me to do this, to watch him—to act like some adolescent teen trying to get a peek at her first dick—but it's an otherworldly force that trumps over my better sense.

From my spot a few feet away now, Jasper appears to be a shadow and...shaking? For a mere moment guilt washes over me as I think he might be crying. After taking a few steps closer, I realize that boy am I wrong.

His thick arms are moving up and down rapidly and the closer I come, the better I can hear faint groans slipping past his lips. He is masturbating.

A sharp, throaty groan that sounds similar to a growl has me freezing.

Jasper groans again, louder. "I, Jasper, submit to you." His movements become more aggressive and erratic. I step closer.

The steam has cleared up slightly, revealing more of him. For a second, I hope that he had wiped clean the mirror in front of us so that I could see the focus of his attention. From my short glimpse, I know Jasper is packing, and god my pussy is aching at the thought of seeing his erect cock as he pumps it with the furious strokes that he is giving.

I suppose it's just as well that the mirror just feet away wasn't spared by the steam. If not, that really wouldn't have worked well in my favor...not entirely, that is.

"I, J-Jasper, submit to you," he repeats, his stutter returning.

It makes me long to be even closer, so I take the last few steps forward until I'm close enough that the spray of the tepid water on his body is splashing onto me, dampening my pajamas and causing them to cling to my form.

I still can't see him. And it's like my life depends on just that.

Suddenly, Jasper smacks a hand against the glass wall in front of us. It cracks under the force, but that isn't what enthralls me, it's the guttural groan that emits from his chest. So throaty and deep, it might as well have been a growl.

And then he starts crying. "I-I Jasper, submit to y-you." Pins and needles crawl over my flesh at the return of his broken tone. "My life, m-my body—" Jasper's voice breaks. "—my soul."

His weak cries morph into sobs, growing worse and worse until his breaths are desperate gasps for air. Everything in me seizes up, and then my body moves on its own accord right behind him without another thought.

I can finally see him and every detail of the body that'd been hidden from me beneath layers of grime and blood. The mirror in front of us—cleared of steam in the shape of Jasper's large hand—makes sure I don't miss a single detail of him, and instead of feeling satisfied, I feel as though I'm drowning in his suffering.