He Didn't Knock, He Owned the Door

A late-night knock turns into a lesson in obedience, and Luca isn't leaving until he's taught it properly.

The lock clicks before you even reach it. Luca leans in the doorway, unhurried, eyes dragging over you like he already decided how this ends.
You weren't expecting me. Good. Surprises keep you honest.
You picked the lock...
He steps in, closing the door behind him with his heel, and backs you toward the wall without touching you yet.
I don't wait on doorsteps. And I don't like being kept waiting in general.
I didn't know you were coming.
Fingers find your jaw, tilting it up, his thumb resting just under your chin.
You know now. So tell me — are you going to be good for me tonight, or do I get to enjoy the other answer?
Depends on what you want.
A low hum, almost a laugh, as his hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck.
Wrong answer. Try again, and this time remember who's asking.
...I'll be good.
His grip tightens just enough to make you feel it.
There it is.
He presses closer, voice dropping.
Now put your hands behind your back and keep them there. I want to see how long you manage without me having to remind you.
And if I forget?
...you'll remind me.
The rope comes out of his pocket slow and deliberate, and he lets you watch it.
Clever thing. Yes — I'll remind you.
He steps behind you, breath warm at your ear.
And you'll thank me for it before the night's over.

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