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"What makes you think I would let you touch me once again?" She said. Standing in front of me with her hands fisted at her sides.
I knew I had her where I wanted, one touch away from melting into a puddle. Flushed cheeks, dilated eyes, wet lips, everything screamed out the evidence of her wanton desires.
She could ask for it, and she would have it, but she was just too stubborn to accept this arrangement. Nate and Connor fucked things up but they weren't going anywhere because I didn't really have a choice.
She needed to understand the same thing, she didn't have a choice. Troubling herself with choices she won't be making was just unnecessary. When things weren't in my control, I waited for them to naturally come back to normal. No force was required to let the stretched rubber take it's usual shape.
Anya needed one more push to fall back into my arms, just one more push. She would soon understand that things weren't going her way, and instead of fighting this futile war she would give in.
But to fall back in my arms, she just needed a push.
"I think, the fact that Rebecca is right under my sniper's radar would persuade you to open up those pretty legs for your future husband." I dropped the news to her.
Anger melted out of her features so quickly that it was almost funny. Her olive complexion paled, her eyes grew wider and she froze in time. Well good for me that she understood the graveness of her situation.
"You wouldn't" She whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I won't do anything to her if you follow what I say. This was exactly what I've been trying to make you understand love, you do not have a choice. Follow our lead and switch your mind off for your own sanity. The best recipe for happiness" I declared.
Tapping at my wrist watch, I said "you have one minute"
She looked disheveled already but my threat rewired her brain, right in front of my eyes. Her restless eyes when she first entered this room were now filled with acceptance. I didn't want her to trouble herself any further and for that, she needed to stop blaming herself for not trying to escape.
She wanted to believe that she was trying everything to get away from her captors but since she wasn't, it affected her mental peace. She needed reassurance that this situation wasn't her fault. It was totally on us, that she didn't have a choice.
I knew how she functioned, two years of companionship was coming in handy now. As if accepting her fate, she turned around and left the office, no doubt moving down the hallway to our personal red room.
