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“Let. Me. Go,” I squeak.
But of course he doesn’t. He just seems to hold on tighter. It makes me realize that the only way someone as big as him will ever feel small like me is if I tie him up. I need to get that rope. Give him a taste of his own medicine.
“You can’t go outside. It’s not safe.”
I sag against him, giving up for the time being. I won’t win in a physical fight. Not with my size. I realize this. I’ll admit defeat now and will cheer myself on once he’s tied to that bed and unable to move.
I realize he’s here to keep me safe, but I’m nothing if not vindictive.
His hands are still on me, holding me against him. When I try to move away, his fingers dig into my sides. Plumes of desire streak up my body, and I feel my muscles clench. Oh hell.
“I get the point. I’m not going outside. I’ll stay in. Like a good little dog.”
I turn my head and peer up at him. He cocks his head, those green eyes flashing slightly.
“Good boy.”
The way he says it makes my entire body flame. That coupled with his fingers digging into my flesh is making me all sorts of unreasonable.
“Do not speak to me like I’m an animal,” I spit and then pry his fingers off of me and take a step away.
He watches me intently until I start to fidget. “Hm.”
It’s all he says and it makes my blood boil, makes me want to lash out and scream. I am not going to survive this. They should have just let the hitman come and kill me. Would have been a more pleasant way to die.
“I’m just going to go over here…and sulk.”
“Good,” Skylar says and then lumbers back to the dishes all casually, like he didn’t just make me crack slightly. He saw it too, he saw it and knew he’d won.
I have to level the playing field. I have to show him that no matter my size, I will not break. I will fight until my very last breath.
I grab my old Chaos Space Marine Warhammer models from my duffle bag, the ones I don’t care much about. I also grab my paints and then sit at the rickety table, grinding my teeth and trying to center myself. I try to remind myself to be reasonable despite the fact that I’ve never quite been able to manage it.
But I know I can calm down long enough for him to fall asleep. And then I’ll make my move.
I will move like a fucking ninja.
* * *
“What the fuck are you doing?” Skylar asks, his deep, raspy voice making me jump. My elbow hits the edge of the counter and the rope slips from my hand. Well, so much for being stealthy. After falling asleep at the table, I woke in a puddle of my own drool to see it was still dark out. Hearing Skylar’s soft snores, I figured I still had time to complete my mission. But the moment my hand wrapped around the rope, I groaned loudly like a whore.
I liked the idea of it wrapped around me far too much, of it cutting into my skin and leaving bruises the next day. I couldn’t keep quiet the minute those thoughts filtered through my head. It’s funny because I hate feeling trapped, but for some reason, this is totally doing it for me.
“Nothing,” I say, far too loudly. I wince at the sound of my voice and the general horny state of myself. My hard dick is completely noticeable through the fabric of my boxers. Just a big old fuckin’ tent.
Skylar doesn’t let on that he’s noticed as he lumbers over to me, his bare chest and thick thighs glinting in the pale morning light. I can make out the individual muscles bunching as he moves, the curly hair lining his long limbs. Fuck, he’s too goddamn big. I imagine him stretched out on the bed, those thick limbs straining to get free.
I might have stared at them a little too hard when I was tiptoeing over to the fridge a few minutes ago. Might have just stood for a moment andlooked.I mean, I couldn’t not do it. He’s huge. He took up most of the bed and didn’t have the decency to cover himself with sheets. He was begging to be ogled—did it on purpose, I’m sure.
My entire body heats at the sight of him. Of what I could do to him.
Of what he could do to me.
It’s been plaguing me for weeks.
I fucking hate him.
“Back the hell up,” I hiss, but he doesn’t stop. Just keeps coming. And then those hands reach out and grab on to the rope. It slips through my limp fingers. I gave up far too easily, didn’t fight nearly as hard as I should have. I should have lassoed that rope around his neck and tugged, but instead, I just spread my fingers and let him take what he wanted.
