No. My butterfly is too innocent for the reality of what we do. Of what I am. I can tell him bits about The Firm, but he doesn’t need to know the gritty details of what I do with those letters, the vile things I enjoy.
I can shield him from it.
“Mm,” Ansel says, waking up slowly and rubbing at his eyes. Adorable. Even sleep-disheveled, he’s fucking cute. “I slept again.”
“I’m glad. You’ve been through a lot. You need it.”
He sighs and nuzzles into my neck. “I have, but so have you. Being tied up and tortured…”
I let out a snort so loud I choke. Slamming my fist against my chest, I try and force it to dislodge. For fuck’s sake. A popcorn kernel is apparently trying to kill me. If it takes me out, I will die very unwillingly.
When I finally regain my breath, I see Ansel glowering at me. “What? Youweretied up and tortured!”
I swipe at my eyes, glad there’s no more popcorn to choke on. “There was no torture involved, butterfly. Everything that happened was magnificent. Your torture was foreplay.”
He smirks, ducking his head. “Only you would think that, I swear.”
“I do enjoy pain.”
“Seems so.” He reaches over and twists my nipple, making me groan and shift my hips up.
“You keep that up and I’ll come.”
“Mm, maybe I want that.” He says it on another yawn, and I can’t help but grin at how cute he is.
“How are you feeling now?”
“A lot better. Are the twenty-four hours up?”
I nod and then help him stand. As he does, his stomach growls, and he rubs it. It’s a family dinner tonight, and even Candace being there isn’t going to stop me from taking Ansel.
I want him to get to know the others properly…especially as they didn’t give the best first impression. Meeting your boyfriend’s family usually involves fewer punches and guns, but we can’t hit perfection every time.
Also, he’s not your boyfriend yet.
A mere technicality. I just need time. Time and wooing.
Starting with dinner.
“You’re hungry.” I throw my arm around his shoulders and lead him toward the door. “Come on. Jules always makes the best dinners. He’s Matthias’s cook, but he’s coming over tonight because Wylder’s cook is out for the week.”
“Of course you have a cook. Or should I say, cooks, plural?”
“Meh. Wylder’s cook is all right and doesn’t really count as a greatchef. But Jules is. You really won’t want to eat anywhere else once you’ve tried what he makes.”
Ansel hums, intrigued. “What are we having?”
“Jules always insists it’s a surprise. He refuses to tell us until it’s on the actual table.”
“That’s interesting. I’d assume he’d get approval first.”
I snort at that. “Oh, he doesn’t give a fuck about what we want. He just makes what he feels like making, and we haven’t complained yet.”
“Given my usual dinner options are ramen or cereal, I don’t think I will either.”
My chest tightens again. Fuck, I just want to spoil this man. To take such good care of him that he’ll never want to leave me.
Huh. That’s not a bad idea. I think I’ll do just that.
