Page 35 of Diablo

“Hm, tempting.”

I yank on the rope and he stumbles into the room as I lead him to the bed. I push him down on it and then pin him in place with my legs.

“How do you sleep? Back, front, side?” I ask as I work the rope through the rickety headboard. This one is not nearly as old and sturdy as the one in the cabin, but it’ll do.

“I sleep however I feel like it. I can’t be controlled. You should know this. You’ve watched me sleep countless times.”

I have. And I can’t get a read on his sleeping patterns. He really does move every which way, usually ending up upside down on the bed, feet on his pillow.

Our eyes meet and part of me is wondering why he’s not fighting me more. I’m realizing he loves this. Loves me pinning him down…restraining him, tying him up. He hates that he likes it too, wishes that he could fight me harder. But his body and dick won’t let him.

He goes weak for this.

I grab on to his wrists and extend his arms above his head, stretching him out for consumption.

You should only be letting him sleep.

I push the thought away as I secure his wrists with the end of the rope, leaving yards left to do with as I please. I eye it and so does he. His throat works, that Adam’s apple bobbing.

I want to peel him out of his boxers. They seem flimsy, I could probably tear them right off. Then I could make use of the rest of the rope, could wrap it right around his dick and jack him off with it.

I bet he’d like that.

He’d go fucking wild.

“Should I tie down your legs too? Or will you be a good boy and try to sleep?”

He rolls those fucking eyes. “I’m always a good boy.”

I snort a laugh and move off of him, setting the rope above his head so he can look at it if he wants, can envision what I’d do with it—all those filthy, nasty things—then I flop down next to him.

“Get some sleep.”

“Are you serious?” he asks, his head turned toward me, his body stretched out so delectably.

“I’m dead serious. Now shut those eyes and sleep, Diablo.”

He glares daggers at me and huffs, his ribs showing with each inhale.

“At least take care of my dick, you shitstain. It hurts and you lured me in here with a promise.”

“I promised nothing. And to do anything with your dick would be breaking a professional boundary.”

“You broke it already. Break it again. Who cares?”

“I have to stay in my lane.”

“There are no lanes, you idiot. Just a big motherfucking road. Now get me off before I fucking riot.”

“And what are you going to do tied up like this, little shrimp?”

“I’m not a shrimp. I’m a shark!”

The way he gnashes his teeth only makes me smile wider.

“You are a little tiny fish in a big fucking pond. Look at you, letting yourself be tied up by me.”

“You tricked me!”

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