Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
B
"You were waiting for me?"
"Yeah. I fell asleep." He rubs his palm over his eye.
"What made you think I'd come to you?"
"Well," he gestures to me, sitting on the ground across from him, "you did, didn't you?"
"I was going to get a drink of water."
"Were you?" The edges of his mouth quirk up in the tiniest smile, killing me softly.
"No..."
He shifts his weight, now kneeling in front of me.
"Why didn't you just wait for me in your room if you were so sure I was going to come?"
He leans forward on his hands to get closer to me. "Clover's room shares a wall with mine."
"And why would that make a difference?" I'm playing dumb, but he knows me better than that.
"I think you know why."
God, I need him to come closer and touch me. "Then why not just come into my room? Why wait out here?"
"I think you also know the answer to that."
He needed me to make the first move. He wanted me to prove that I want him as much as he wants me.
"Why—"
His hand is over my mouth before I can ask my next question. There's something about the way he dominates me that makes my senses go fuzzy.
It's quiet down here, except for the furnace filling the space with a faint whirring sound. He uncovers my mouth and stands, scooping me up with him and throwing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
"Kass, what the—"
"Quiet. You'll wake Clover." I'm not sure if it's his command or the smack on the ass that shuts me up, but either way, I obey. That doesn't mean I'll go easily, though. I fight him every step of the way, trying to wriggle my way out of his grip, but he holds tight.
Once we've entered the guest room, he closes the door.
The sound of the furnace is barely audible now, leaving this room eerily quiet, save for my panting.
He throws me down on the bed with a grunt, and I immediately try to stand.
He holds me down with his hands on my shoulders and pins me to the bed.
"Stay."
Now this is more like it.
Him dragging the wooden desk chair to the bed has me sitting up and giving him a questioning look. What the fuck is he planning to do with a chair?
"Sit." He beckons to the chair.
I sit in the chair as he starts digging through the closet. He returns with a handful of rope. Does he just keep stashes of this shit lying around the house for instances like this?
He ties my ankles to the chair first, kissing up my legs, his lips warm on my bare skin.
He's gentle with me. Almost too gentle. It has me questioning his motives.
Next, he guides my arms to my sides and ties my wrists to the base of the chair.
My hair falls off my shoulder as I tilt my head away, giving him access to my neck.
He leans in and nips at the base of it, making a whimper escape my lips.
He pauses, and a little growl comes from the back of his throat before he pulls away.
"Kass, I'm not going to beg you if that's what you want."
Once he’s done tying me, he sits on the edge of the bed and slides the chair across the floor, so I'm sitting right in front of him.
There's an ache between my thighs that is begging to be eased with pressure.
I spread my legs, telling him what I want, but he doesn't move.
He bites his bottom lip, hard. Then, to my surprise, he reaches forward and presses my legs closed.
The fuck? My eyebrow quirks up. "Kass...?"
He maintains his hold on my legs. I know because I test it, trying to open them again.
"Blake."
I pull on the bindings, testing their strength. "For fuck's sake, touch me."
"I am touching you." He gives my knees, which he's holding shut, a little squeeze for emphasis. Then he bites his lips together, trying to hold back a laugh. As he stares into my eyes, I hope he can tell I want to kill him right now.
He turns down my boiling rage to a simmer by rubbing both hands up and down my thighs until I relax into the chair.
"I'll keep touching you, but you need to earn it."
If looks could kill, he'd be six feet in the ground right now. "The fuck did you just say to me?"
"Let me rephrase that. I'm going to keep touching you, but I also want to talk. As long as you talk to me and answer my questions honestly, I'll give you what you want." His hands slide higher than they have so far and rest in the crease between my thighs and my hips.
"You want to talk? Right now?"
"Mhm." He gives me a light squeeze with both hands, making my hips twitch.
"And you tied me to a chair for this because...?"
"I was afraid you'd run."
"Seriously?"
"Mhm."
He squeezes me again. This time, I lean forward, squishing his hands between my thick thighs and my hip bones. "Stop that."
"You'll answer my questions then?"
"Sure."
He fakes like he's about to squeeze me again, and my instinct is to double over.
"Yes. I'll answer your fucking questions, you sadist."
His hands slide out from where they were wedged, and he lifts my chin with one hand, forcing me to look up at him. "I promise, if I wanted to torture you, I wouldn't have tied you up so gently."
I take some deep breaths, weighing out my options here. I know if I said my safe word and asked to leave, that he'd let me. My curiosity is what gets me to stay. I'm sure I'll regret this, but I have to know what is making this man so desperate that he's resorting to sexual interrogation tactics.
He takes my silence as acceptance.
"I promise, this is mutually beneficial. I want to get my answers and make you feel good. I just can't risk you walking out on me before I've said all I need to say. You answer my questions honestly, and I'll give you what we both want. You answer dishonestly, and I'm going to have to tickle you."
What started out as an intimidating speech fell apart the moment he uttered the word tickle. My chest shakes with a silent laugh. A look of slight amusement also spreads across his face. I quickly whip my chin down and take his thumb that was holding my chin into my mouth and bite down.
"Ouch!" He pulls his finger out from between my teeth and shakes it. "You brat."
"What's your first question?"
"May I touch you, or are you going to bite me again?"
"No more biting, I promise." I'm sure the smirk on my face isn’t convincing at all. "Unless you deserve it, of course."
"Fair enough." He sucks his thumb into his mouth briefly.
He reaches a hand out slowly and tucks some of my hair behind my ear. The act is harmless, innocent, but it has me recoiling. It's too much intimacy for me. I'm too pissed that I'm not getting bent over and fucked by Kass's pierced cock right now.
"Why did you kick me out of your apartment?"
"Because I was done talking."
"Be more specific."
I roll my eyes at him and immediately regret it when he stands up and hovers over my detained form. Or maybe I don't regret it. This is kind of hot. His hands take hold of the backrest of the wooden chair, one on either side of me. I get the feeling he's going to stare me down until I answer.
"I wasn't going to change my mind. We were going in circles, and I was sick of arguing with you."
My chair flies back, and I shriek as I brace for the landing, expecting my head to smack onto the ground. But he catches me halfway down. Now straddling me, my chair tipped backward, he leans in to get his face close to mine.
"Since that was half-truth and half-lie, you only get a small reward."
"That was not—haaaa..." I start to melt with his hand now between my thighs, applying pressure exactly where I've been craving it.
The pressure dissipates as quickly as it came, and I'm left longing for it again.
He shuffles backward and tilts my chair upright again. Taking a seat on the bed, he gets right back to business.
"Who do you love?"
His question stuns me. "Really?"
"Really, really. Who in your life would you say you love?"
"I don't know...Lou, Iris, my parents."
His hands skim down my arms slowly, causing my skin to pebble. When they reach the seat of the chair where my wrists are bound, he grabs it and tugs me closer to him.
"Do you love Fia?"
"What—" What is with these questions?
"Do you love Fia?" he asks more assertively.
"I don't know. I haven't thought about it."
"Well, think about it. Or better yet, don't think about it. What's your gut instinct telling you? Do you care about her?”
"Of course I do."
“Do you feel happier when you're around her?"
"I guess so."
"Would you do anything to protect her?"
"Yes?"
"So do you love her?"
"Yeah, sure, I love her." Fia and I have said those three words to each other as we leave the house or head to bed, but they didn't carry enough weight for me to think much of it. Things between Fia and me have always been casual.
"Good." He runs his hands up my thighs again, this time staying on the inside and stopping mere inches away from my center that aches for his touch. "Do you love her like you loved Harlen or like you love Iris?"
I blow out air through my nose, annoyed with his questions already. "Neither. Or...both, I guess?"
"So, you are capable of loving someone other than friends and family?"
"It's different."
"I know. But just because you love her differently than you love others doesn't make it any less valid."
"Sure."
"Then why aren't you letting yourself feel that for me?"
The air feels thick when I pause to think about it. Seconds tick by, and my heart is racing in double time.
“Where’s my reward for the last question?”
He gives me a single nod before leaning forward and brushing the hair off my shoulder. He sucks hard on the sensitive skin at the base of my neck, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips.
"Come on, Blake, it's not that hard of a question,” he mutters against my skin.
"It is!" I recoil at my own outburst.
That has him leaning away from me, exactly when I don’t want him to.
I look up at the ceiling as if I can see if I just woke Clover up or not. "It's different," I whisper this time.
"But you do feel something for me?" As if to test his own theory, he reaches out and cups the side of my face, caressing my cheek with his thumb.