He tore off the strip of duct tape from the roll with his teeth, flattening the end of the strip around the kitchen mitt covering my hand, wrist, and part of my forearm.
"These are going to get wet," I whined. I was already caught, in pain from my most recent escape attempt, and likely headed for my father's house, where he'd lock me up and throw away the key. I deserved a little whine time.
Knox paused to growl at the bandages on my face and arms. "When you can't wear the mittens, you'll wear a spreader."
I frowned. He couldn't mean like what I thought he meant. A spreader? Like, a BDSM thing? I looked at Knox for a long time. If I were only given a handful of words to describe the man, scary and terrifying would be high on the list, but so would rugged and handsome. Who was Knox when he wasn't chasing after me? What did he do? Chase after other men?
I bristled at the idea and tugged my mittened hand from his grasp. "I won't let you put something on me that you've used to fuck other people," I snarled.
Knox didn't respond. Instead, he lifted me from the chair, spread me awkwardly over his lap, and spanked me five times in quick succession before sitting me back in the chair.
Fuck, that hurt. But it didn't only hurt. His hand on my ass made me feel other things too, even while the heat of his spanks blossomed over my skin. I exhaled shakily—still an embarrassing noise, but better than a moan.
"You need to ask questions before you jump to conclusions," Knox murmured. I had to be imagining the way his breath shook as well.
He looked like a brick wall, immovable, unchangeable, but was I effecting him? I had in the bathroom. His dick had sprung up, letting me know exactly what I would miss out on. And I'd be missing out on a lot.
"Okay, how many other people have you fucked using it?" There, that was a question. One with an answer that really wasn't my business. If he thought I'd let him use something he'd used on hundreds of others—
"None, brat. I had Faust weld it for you."
On cue, there was a sharp knock on the door, and Faust stepped in. He held a thin metal bar with two rings that had been welded to either end. "This'll do the trick." He swung the pole around so he held it vertically, the other end braced against the mattress. "Unbreakable—at least, for the purposes you have planned. Wide enough to keep the wearer out of any tight holes and ribbed for his pleasure."
Knox growled at his partner's joke, but I grinned. It was funny. And now that I knew this wasn't some sexual hand-me-down, I supposed there were worse ways of being restrained. I'd prefer the bars to the kitchen mitts. I couldn't do anything with these things covering my hands.
Seeing my grin only made Knox growl louder. "Nothing needs to be ribbed," he snarled, but he sounded so aghast, neither Faust nor myself could keep from laughing more.
"I'll leave you to…whatever this is." Faust gestured weakly at my hands, the second mitt waiting to be secured and the rolls of tape—duct tape and medical grade—surrounding us.
"Good," Knox snarled.
Faust shut the door with a smirk.
I slumped over the desk, leaning my weight on my elbows. "You two are really cute together."
Knox scowled, but for half a second, it looked like he was fighting to hold it. He silently wrapped my other hand, checking the cuts he'd already bandaged before sliding the mitt on. "You'll wear these most of the time and the spreader when your hands need to air out."
Hearing him plan how I'd be restrained throughout the day didn't fill me with as much anger as I thought it should. Perhaps because it was Knox and I was already an idiot when it came to him. None of my responses were what they should've been. "Awful lot of trouble to go through just so you can satisfy your curiosity."
"It's for your own good, brat."
That was rich. Being tied up, unable to use my hands even to go pee—that was for my good? "How so?"
Knox sighed, leaning back to survey his work. I lifted my elbows, waving my hands around in front of me. They felt weird, and I wouldn't be able to use them to do a single thing, but it was nice to be able to move my arms around however I wanted. "We made a deal. Half up-front, half when we deliver you."
Was he trying to tell me he was bound by a stellar work ethic? "This sounds like an awful lot of trouble for some money. I can pay you. Whatever he offered. I'll double."
Knox shook his head. "No, brat. I don't want a stack of cash that will turn into rocks hours later."
I shut my mouth with a smile. Was it fair for him to be smart and sexy? I didn't want for money in my life, but not because I had any of it. "What do you need the money for anyway?"
"Not your business," he grumped, cleaning up the mess he'd made from the desk. "But if I have to explain to the guys that not only are we not getting paid for the foreseeable future, but they have to share their home with a boy who can't behave, they are going to have a lot of questions. I hate questions." He said the word questions like it meant something violent.
I'd been fixating on his use of the word foreseeable. Did that mean he wasn't planning on sending me back now? But that it could change? Or that he hadn't made his choice yet? I knew enough that I didn't think I was in immediate danger, which allowed me to relax—at least when it came to worrying I'd be hauled off at any second.
"Well, if I'm going to be staying here while you figure things out. I'm gonna need my stuff. I don't suppose you checked me out of my hotel room?"
Knox glared.
"I need clothes. And lotion. The air here is making my elbows chapped. And I wouldn't say no to a nice body wash, a hair mask." I got distracted listing the items I wished I had at that moment. I hadn't left anything behind that I couldn't replace, so I didn't need to worry about losing anything sentimental. I didn't have anything sentimental. My stomach growled, and I paused, waiting for Knox's reply. "What if I prom—"
Knox pressed his index finger against my lips. "Stop saying that word, I don't think you know what it means."
My mouth curved before he could remove his finger.
He ripped his finger from my lips like I'd burned him. "I'll get you food. You, stay."
I wouldn't be trying for the vent again. Even if I hadn't been neutered, the passage had been tight and full of so many spiders I was still sure they covered me. "Yes, sir." I gave a salute that likely looked ridiculous, given my puffy hand. "Do you have any pizza?" I called out as he left.
He shook his head, but I wasn't sure if he was answering me or just that exasperated.
When he returned, he had a bottle of water and an apple. "We don't have a lot in the kitchen. Mostly we hunt for our meals." He spoke as close to mumbling as I'd ever heard him.
I leapt off the bed, reaching for the water bottle before noticing my hands.
Knox's eyes flared, tightening as he realized the same thing I had. Knox would have to feed me. He recovered quickly, cracking the lid and spinning it off the top of the bottle before he put the spout to my lips.
I kept my mouth open and waiting, moaning when the cool water hit my tongue.
He set the bottle down, looking from my mouth to the apple before he reached for his waist, sliding out the gleaming handle of a dagger.