“Sit on the table,” he instructed. The wooden table was around a foot or so high, close enough that Flix had to adjust his legs when Aneski tried to sit. As soon as he had, Flix captured his jaw and tugged him forward, the end of the lit cigarette hovering dangerously close to the rise of his right cheek.
“Going to burn me, Flix?”
“Going to beg me not to?”
Ani went silent.
Flix chuckled darkly. “Always so damn difficult.”
“You’ll do what you want no matter what I say,” Ani countered quietly. “You always have.”
He took the cigarette out of his mouth and forced Aneski’s head to the side, exposing his neck. Then he brought it close enough to his skin he was certain Ani could feel the threat of heat.
Sure enough, Aneski’s jaw clenched tightly as he braced himself.
“Felt pretty shitty when you burned my ass,” Flix said. “What were you thinking?”
Aneski licked his lips, no doubt stalling, and then confessed, “I wanted to see if I could do it.”
“That so?” It was pretty obvious the reason he hadn’t been traditionally tortured had been because Aneski didn’t have the stomach for it. “Think I can do it too?”
“Yes,” no hesitation this time.
“Should I?”
Aneski’s gaze shifted to meet his, though he didn’t attempt to free himself from Flix’s grasp. “Do whatever you need to do. Just do it quickly so this can be over.”
“Over?” He laughed. “You’ve been here less than ten minutes, and you’re already eager to leave?” Flix shoved Ani away so the man fell back against the table and then pressed the tip of the cigarette into his own thigh, effectively putting it out.
Ani’s eyes went wide.
There was a sharp sting, but the pain was fleeting—there and gone in a flash—hardly anything for someone like Flix. He tossed the bud to the side, not carrying where it fell, and rested his arms on his splayed knees.
“Smoking will kill you. Promise me you’ll quit.” He waited for a response, lifting a brow when one didn’t come fast enough. “Aneski.”
“Fine.” He sat back up. “Whatever.”
Flix held his gaze pointedly.
“I’ll quit,” he repeated, looking off to the side now.
With a sound of approval, Flix leaned back against the couch. “Undo my belt.”
Aneski’s eyes shot to his, but when all Flix did was wait, he eventually gave in like with everything else. His hands shook slightly as he reached forward, tugging the belt loose and dragging it out of the belt loops. Before he could drop it to the ground, Flix clicked his tongue, stopping him.
“Put it around your neck.” He’d prefer to tie up Ani’s hands, but that wasn’t nearly threatening enough. If word got out what he’d done, it’d be war between the Brumal and the Shepards, and there was no contest over who would win.
This type of rebellion had to be nipped in the bud now. If he went too easy on him, Aneski might test his luck a second time, and there was no way that type of thing was going to fly.
Ani wrapped the black leather around his throat and then adjusted the strap until it was snug around him but still loose enough.
Flix allowed it, moving to take the end of the belt so when he dropped back against the couch a second time, it forced Ani closer. He tugged again for good measure, grinning when that caused the younger guy to glare. “What was that about not being my bitch, Tiny Terror?”
He wanted to say something, it was so obvious, but Aneski held himself back.
That was absolutely no fun at all.
“Keep going.” He pointed to his pants where he was already semi-hard just from the anticipation. “Take me out.”
