“I won’t do it again,” I say softly. And I won’t. Not after seeing how he panicked.
“I’m a dead man.”
I hope he meant that figuratively, for both our sakes. I won’t rest if there’s someone out there threatening my butterfly.
Ansel lifts his chin. “You better not. Or I’ll murder you myself.”
I don’t believe that at all, but I can feel the anger radiating off him. And I’m pleased he learned something, despite not wanting to admit it, but I also want to make amends.
“You can punish me for it, if you’d like,” I say, realizing I’ve never willingly given myself up for punishment before. But I feel I deserve it this time. I did frighten him. It was with good intentions, but still, I made him panic.
I don’t like that I did that.
Ansel scowls. “Ishould. Ishouldpunish you.”
I hold up my hands in surrender and fall to my knees, ready to get on with it.
He stares down at me, and a frown lines his lips. “What are you doing?”
“Surrendering.”
His feet shuffle on the ground, rustling up leaves.
“My father found that switches from trees worked well,” I say, my gaze meeting his. “Plenty of those around.”
His eyes widen, and he reaches down, trying to tug me up.
“Get up. I mean it. I’m not hitting you with a branch. Good fuck,” he says.
I hesitate slightly as my feet hit the ground and I stand once more. “You sure?”
“Of course I’m fucking sure. And who the fuck is your father?”
I don’t answer that. I’m not ready for Ansel to find out who my family is just yet. Especially because then I’ll also have to admit to lying about my identity.
Ansel doesn’t seem to expect an answer anyway. “What a dickhead. I’m so sorry, Brad. No kid should be beaten like that. It’s just plain wrong.”
I cock my head, staring at this odd creature. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” His eyes soften. “Do you want to talk about it?”
My mouth drops open. Do I? My brothers have pushed for me to go to therapy for years, and I’ve always refused. The thought of talking to a stranger gives me hives.
The thought of talking to Ansel…well, it doesn’t scare me as much as it should.
“Maybe later,” I say weakly. If we get into it now, we won’t do anything else. And I’ll be damned if I don’t get laid because of my fuck-knuckle dead dad.
“Okay.” He reaches down, brushing the dirt and leaves from my knees. My dick, which has remained hard due to his proximity, leaps at how close he is to it.
He ignores it, standing back up and then grabbing my wrists and tugging me toward the blanket. Perhaps I didn’t ruin the romantic night after all. Perhaps he’ll give me another chance.
“Lie down.”
I can’t help but grin. “No punishment though? If you don’t want to beat me, perhaps I could offer up my mouth again.”
That makes him sputter, and he shoves me toward the blanket. I go willingly, back on my knees, my hands on my thighs, my cock a straight rod between my legs.
He watches me for a moment and then takes a step forward.
