“Might be a good idea unless you want me making a mess.”
“No.” He rushes over, pausing beside me. “If I loosen the knots, will you let me re-tighten them?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be the best boy.”
My little adventure with the chair last night loosened my bindings enough that I’m able to easily stand without the rope catching.
Ansel steps back, paling slightly. “Wait, have you not been tied to the chair all night?”
“I was tiedaroundthe chair…”
“But you could’ve stood up at any time?” His gaze darts to the bed, and I know what he’s doing. He’s putting together how few steps there are between where the two of us slept. How easily I could’ve murdered him in his sleep. Then he glances at the door. The one that leads to freedom. “Why…why did you stay there all night?”
I shrug. “Because you told me to. I won’t invade your bed until you invite me. And trust me, youwillinvite me there.”
He ignores that, biting his lower lip. Fuck, how I wish I could bite it too.
“You could’ve killed me. You could’ve escaped. But you didn’t.”
I risk taking a step closer to him. His breath catches as he looks up at me. Even with my hands tied behind my back, I think we both know who’s in control right now.
“I could’ve killed you,” I agree. “But I didn’t. I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to.”
His eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. He just searches my face for answers I’m already giving him; ones he doesn’t want to believe.
“And I didn’t escape because I don’t want this to be over yet,” I say simply. “It’s the same reason why I didn’t kill you. You’re the most interesting person I’ve met in years, Ansel.”
“You’re insane,” he breathes.
“Maybe, but I’m not the one kidnapping people.” This week, at least. Last week was a different story.
“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m holding you captive and you’re flirting with me.” He shoves his hair back. “Youareflirting with me, right?”
I grin lazily. “If you have to ask, then obviously I’m not doing a good enough job.”
Ansel steps back, shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not doing this. You’re my victim. I’m in charge here.”
“Sure you are, my beautiful butterfly.”
He mutters under his breath before grabbing my bicep again. For someone keen to set boundaries, he sure does like feeling my muscles up a lot. Must mean he’s willing to bend, if not break entirely.
He steers us into the bathroom, and we come to a stop in front of the toilet. My lips twitch at the predicament we find ourselves in. “Are you going to help me out?”
“Of course not,” he snaps. “Surely you can manage peeing on your own?”
“Usually. But usually I don’t have my hands tied behind my back.”
Ansel’s ire falters as a blush creeps up his neck. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.”
“Umm…” He shuffles, and I take pity on him. This is a steep learning curve, after all.
“You can either untie me?—”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Or you can hold my cock.”
