He brought the two glasses closer, allowing a dark chuckle. “Yes, those pesky little rules. I’m allowed to choose which ones to follow. You, on the other hand, prefer breaking them whenever you can. As you’ve done with me.” When he rolled one of the glasses across my cheek, I shuddered from the chill and the way he was looking at me.
As if he was going to devour me alive.
Even the way he was dangling the glass back and forth was yet another temptation. He was doing his best to continue the string of horrible torments. Did he honestly think he was going to break my resolve? If so, he didn’t know me very well.
“You seem to forget that I make my own rules.”
The smile he issued was as if he’d caught me in a lie. “Tsk. Tsk. I was given strict permission to do whatever it took to keep you safe, including but not limited to shackling you if necessary.”
That forced me to sit up straight. “That is not the truth. Nice try, though.”
When he pulled out his phone, offering it to me, I was somewhat shocked. “Call your brother. Ask him.”
He knew I wouldn’t call him. But was he bluffing or telling the truth? “A lie.”
“Now, now. I don’t lie. That is one rule I will always follow. So it seems to me that since you obviously have difficulty with authority, that you’ll need continual lessons.”
“That’s not happening.” As I slipped off the table, I had to admit to myself that his words were keeping me wet and hot all over.
“Oh, yes, it is. I can see your first lesson didn’t take.” He pulled his glass to his lips, swirling the liquid. “But we can fix that. Very easily.”
His laugh always thrilled me, but tonight, it created a need to continue the explosive nature of our relationship.
I was casual in my actions, enjoying watching him while savoring the drink. When I was finished, I carefully placed the glass on the table.
Once I did, I simply offered a sweet smile.
And left the room.
Another layer of excitement built as I rushed upstairs toward the two bedrooms, fighting laughter as I threw my head over my shoulder.
He wasn’t following me, but I could feel his presence, the heightened electricity that added life to his overtly dangerous persona. For several crazy reasons, my childish behavior was as titillating as the provocative dance from before. This was our method of foreplay.
Push and pull.
I was still tingling all over from the sweet rush of satisfaction as I closed and locked the bedroom door. Curious what he’d do, I glanced toward the sliding doors leading out to the balcony. Could he climb one patio to another? Yes. That’s why I closed the door just in case.
After a few seconds of hearing nothing, my curiosity started to get the better of me. I peered out the back door, straining to try to see the patio below. Impossible.
Then a thump caught my attention. What was he doing? Teasing me on purpose, no doubt. I refused to take the bait, even scanning the room to try to find something to block the door. I wasn’t frantic, merely hoping to prolong the game. We’d come this far; I refused to back down or give in to the man so easily.
Even if I was standing in a bedroom in a house in another country completely naked.
Unfortunately, the pieces of furniture were too heavy.
So I retreated to the center of the room, waiting. Anticipating.
Excitement continued to build.
Another thump was followed by two more. That’s when I realized he was purposely thudding his way up the stairs, using his full weight to do so. Then nothing. Not a peep, where I had expected words spoken in Italian, soothing at first followed by his frustration building or even a final pound on the door where the dominating side of him demanded I allow him in.
Or face punishment.
He did neither, the silence as overbearing as any loud noise.
As seconds ticked away, I’d begun to believe he’d left.
Disappointment swept through me.
