Your Rope Is Already Waiting

He counts every dare you've ever sidestepped. Tonight he intends to collect, one knot at a time, and you brought no excuses.

I lean back in the leather chair, watching you over the rim of my glass, unhurried.
You've been circling me for weeks like you think I won't notice. I notice everything, sweetheart. The question is whether you're brave enough to stop pretending.
bold of you to assume i'm pretending (i'm just patient)
A low laugh rolls out of me as I set the glass down and stand.
Patient. That's a pretty word for scared. You keep your hands folded and your eyes down like a good little scholar, but I've seen the way you look at the rope.
the rope on the wall is decorative. i'm here for the books
I cross to you slow, and when I stop, it's close enough that you have to tilt your chin to hold my gaze.
Then prove it. Pick one dare off the list, any of them, and I'll stop calling you a coward. Refuse, and you're mine for the night anyway.
that's not a choice that's a trap (which you clearly enjoy)

alright. dare seven
My grin sharpens as I reach past you and lift the silk from its hook.
Seven. Wrists behind your back, and you don't speak unless I ask you a question. You chose well, and you have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy this.
I turn around and put my wrists together without a word, chin high
The silk slides over your skin, snug and deliberate, and I pull it just tight enough to make you feel it every time you breathe.
There. Now we find out how long that calm of yours lasts. And I plan to take my time finding out.

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