Episode| VIII
"Let's talk about what you'll be doing here," Block said, his voice steady as he stood and walked toward a cabinet. He pulled open a drawer, revealing something with a long strap hanging from it. Ayana watched him carefully, her heart beating a little faster. "I haven’t quite figured all of it out, but there’s something I want to confirm. "
He turned back to face her, holding whatever he had retrieved just out of her line of sight.
"Are you a virgin?" His question sliced through the air.
"Have you ever had sex?" Before she could react, he continued.
"Before you answer, understand that sex is sex—whether it’s anal, vaginal, or oral. So, are you experienced?"
He placed the bag next to the box on the table.
"I'm experienced," Ayana replied, her voice sharp, trying to mask her discomfort. "But I don’t think it’s any of your business, Block."
He rolled his neck slowly, cracking it. "It will be soon enough." His tone was casual, but his eyes never left hers. He sat on the table in front of her, his presence towering despite the distance. Reaching out, he grabbed the pillow she clung to and tossed it aside.
"What the fuck are you doing?" she snapped, leaning forward, her pulse quickening.
"I'm doing nothing. Pay attention to me." His voice dropped, pulling her back into his control as he tugged his shirt off over his head.
Ayana’s gaze couldn’t help but trace the tattoos that lined his muscular frame, her eyes falling on the intricate design surrounding his navel—a long tongue, snaking outward like something hungry, something predatory.
"Is that a skinhead tattoo?" she asked, her words laced with disgust.
Block’s expression darkened instantly. "Are you insinuating something?
" His tone chilled the air between them.
She saw the muscle in his jaw twitch. "People always get the wrong idea about tattoos," he said, his voice rough, controlled anger brimming beneath.
"Don’t make me out to be that type of person. "
Ayana didn’t hesitate. She stood, moving swiftly, planting herself directly in front of him. "Clarify what the fuck you mean by 'people.'" Her voice was defiant, standing tall over him, her shadow stretching across his seated form.
Block shook his head and chuckled—a low, menacing sound. In one smooth motion, he stood, rising to his full height, his presence swallowing the room. Now face to face, Ayana found herself staring up at him, the tables turned in an instant.
"Sit your tiny ass down," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "I told you before, don’t make me out to be that type of person. When I say ‘people,’ I mean everyone."
Ayana rolled her eyes, her defiance flaring.
She turned to step back, but before she could, Block’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her body flush against his.
His skin was warm, smooth—the contact sending a current through her that she hadn’t expected.
His grip was firm, but not painful, and for a fleeting moment, she thought about caressing the hard muscle beneath her fingertips. But she didn’t.
He stared down at her, his eyes undressing her, stripping her naked without laying a finger on her. "Calm yourself, doll." His voice was smooth now, almost teasing. Her hair, free and wild, cascaded down to her chest, and he leaned in, pressing his face into her curls.
"What are you doing, Block?" she whispered, her voice a mix of tension and something she didn’t want to name.
He smiled against her hair. "I love how you say my name." His breath was hot against her scalp. "The way it leaves your mouth and reaches my ears... it’s inviting."
Ayana felt her skin prickle, unsure if it was from fear or something darker. She couldn’t see his face—he was too busy inhaling the scent of her hair, like a wolf savoring the smell of its prey.
"Let’s come to an understanding, okay?" His voice dropped lower, like a predator soothing its catch. She nodded, and in response, his hand moved to grip her ass tightly.
Her breath hitched.
"I thought I told you to say ‘yes sir’ to me," he murmured, his voice darkening as he tangled his fingers in her hair. Without warning, he yanked her head back, hard.
"Don’t fucking make me repeat myself, Ayana." His grip was unyielding, his fingers pulling painfully at her scalp.
Ayana gasped, her hands shooting up to grasp his, letting him know it hurt. Still, he didn’t release her until she finally forced out the words.
"O-ok, I-I’m s-sorry. Yes—yes sir."
Satisfied, he loosened his hold but didn’t let go entirely. Her scalp tingled, a dull ache throbbing where his fingers had pulled. He leaned down, staring deep into her eyes, the intensity of his gaze rooting her to the spot.
"You do something for me, I’ll do something for you. But if I don’t approve of what you ask, it’s dismissed. Got it?"
Ayana met his gaze, knowing she had no choice but to comply. "Yes, sir." Her voice was small, submissive.
"Good." Block smirked. "Now, let me fuck you until you pass out." His voice was low and matter-of-fact, as though he had just asked her the time. Ayana’s body stiffened, her mind reeling at the bluntness of his proposal. He chuckled, reading her shock.
"I have peculiar hobbies," he added casually. "Also, I have beads inside the top layer of skin on my dick."
Her mouth fell open slightly, stunned. "W-wait—you have beads inside your dick?"
Block chuckled darkly, pulling her head back gently, pressing his lips against her neck. His breath was hot as he spoke against her skin. "You’re more concerned about the beads in my dick than the fact I just told you I want to fuck you until you pass out? That’s rich."
He licked a slow line from her neck to her earlobe, nipping at it gently. Her body responded before her mind could catch up, a soft moan slipping from her lips.
"What do I get out of this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath shaky.
Block didn’t answer right away. He was too busy savoring the feel of her skin, his teeth grazing her neck as he bent her backward, her balance starting to give way. She grabbed onto his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh, afraid she might fall.
Without warning, Block released her, letting her collapse backward onto the couch. The suddenness of it made her breath hitch as she stared up at him.
"You’re grown, Ayana. Tell me what you want," he said, standing over her. "But if you mention anything about leaving, I’ll make you regret it." His eyes flashed with a dangerous edge.
She steadied herself, her voice soft. "I want more freedom. I think you can give me that."
She cursed herself for even asking, for daring to request something from him. It had only been a month since her brother had died. She wanted to hold Block accountable, but she knew... she knew that the bullet had been meant for her.
Block’s grip on her chin was firm as he lifted her face toward his. "You’ll get freedom every time you do what I ask. Even more freedom with each task you complete. It’s not always about fucking."
His voice was commanding, leaving no room for argument. She swallowed and nodded. "Yes, sir."
Block’s lips curved into a dark smile. "Good. Now, let’s have some fun. I’m tired of waiting." He gestured toward the box on the table. "You can open the box, now that you’ve made your decision."