Griffin
Finishing her last drop of champagne, Kalista sighs and gives me a satisfied yet confused look.
I set my coffee down and meet her gaze, preparing myself for a barrage of questions.
Waking up in a stranger’s apartment can be confusing. Especially if you’re not conscious during the transit.
But at least she’s being taken care of. And rather well at that.
I am a proper English gentleman after all.
“So, can I go the bathroom?” she asks with annoyance in her voice.
I plaster on my most charming smile, hoping to ease her irritation.
“What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I didn’t let you go to the bathroom?”
I wink at her.
She rolls her eyes and huffs. She looks pissed, but then so would I in her position.
“Is there some sort of problem, love?”
“Knight in shining armor? Really?”
She wiggles her bum and lifts her legs, showing me the bindings keeping her ankles together.
I nod, acknowledging the restraints. My eyes linger on her long, lean legs up in the air.
It’s a fine fucking view. One that I force myself to stop thinking about. But I can’t help thinking of those legs in many other places and in more compromising positions.
My pajama pants tighten, and I re-situate myself in the hopes that Kalista doesn’t get a view of my growing cock—which so eagerly wants attention from her.
“If I untie you, will you promise not to run and scream straight to your daddums and mum?” I ask, bending down and lifting her ankles.
When I touch her, my body heats up, and I feel a spark of energy pulsate through my body. Her skin is electrifying and dangerously irresistible.
This isn’t helping to sedate my cock.
Her eyes fill with desire, and her mouth curls into playful grin.
Apparently, she feels it, too.
“Yes, sir. I promise I won’t run. I have no idea where I am anyway. I just really need to go to the bathroom. Take a piss. Clean the filth off me. That sort of thing,” she says as she quickly regains her composure.
I laugh at her bluntness. It’s quite refreshing—and surprising—to hear that phrase come out of her mouth. Considering she’s an heiress, I had expected her to have a manicured way of saying ‘piss.’
I know for a fact you don’t learn ‘take a piss’ at boarding school.
I begin to unravel the intricate knot at her ankles.
I look up at her, and her eyes glare at my fingers, diligently watching as I loosen the binding.
“Liking the show, love?” I smirk, taunting her.
She clears her throat. “You’re quite good with your fingers. How’d you acquire that skill?”
“With many years of experience and keen interest.”
Once freed from the binding, my hands massage her ankles and the skin around it. She leans back and softly moans in relief I presume.
Now my cock is aching.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, not so much. More uncomfortable, if anything.”
I let her go and stand up, extending my hand to her.
“Come with me. I’ll show you everything you need to get freshened up.”
She eyes me up and down, assessing the situation—and me.
It effectively makes me feel like a piece of meat. I can’t say I’ve ever hated that feeling though.
Especially from a woman who looks as enticing as Kalista.
She gives in and places her hand in mine—standing breaths away from me—and to her surprise uses my hand for balance.
“There might be some lingering effects after being bound and gagged, love.”
She glares at me, pissed at my sarcastic remark.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
And again, I laugh. She is shameless.
She lets go of my hand once she finds her legs and follows me toward the bathroom.
“Here’s the washroom, love. It has everything you should need.”
I show her where everything is in the bathroom and explain to her that this apartment is mostly just a pied-a-terre. I much rather prefer my places in Marrakesh, Barcelona, Venice, or even my family estate in England.
Though, if I’m being honest, it does have its uses—clearly.
Being the watchful gentleman that I am, I run the water and test the temperature for her bath. I see in my peripheral view a very impatient Kalista with crossed arms and a foot tapping aggressively.
“You know, I can do that by myself, right? The least you can let me do is choose the temperature of my water.”
I grin, having realized she does make a good point.
“By all means, love. How dare I get between a woman and her bath?”
I step aside and wave my hands over the facet.
She sighs exasperatedly, though I hear a faint chuckle creep from her throat all the same.
As she fusses with the knobs, I walk over to the linen closet to gather bathing essentials.
“Fancy anything else before I leave you?”
“Do you have something for me to wear? Other than this?”
She stands up and eyes her outfit, tugging at the end of her dress, like she now realizes how short it is. I could see how wearing that tight-ass dress all night can get a bit uncomfortable.
I hold up a finger, trying to think of something appropriate for her, and head to my closet.
“This will do,” I smile mischievously as I hand her a red silk kimono.
She looks at me with an arched eyebrow and settles on a shrug. “This? Uh, I guess I can make this work.”
Looking at her holding the kimono brings flashbacks of last night in her silk pajamas, frolicking around in her hotel room. It has my cock wanting her attention—again.
I need to calm this greedy cock of mine and quickly. It’s going to get me in trouble.
But honestly, I can’t fucking wait to see how she wears nothing other than that silk.
“Enjoy yourself, love. I’ll be patiently waiting for your return.” I wink at her as I leave the bathroom.
Shutting the door behind me, I fall back against it in disbelief that the woman I hoped to steal the canary from is bathing in my apartment.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I pace the apartment, planning out how I’ll get her back to the hotel safely and hopefully without being noticed.
This isn’t something I do normally. Or ever actually. I’ve never rescued a woman before.
Given that I barely had time to react back at the hotel, the last thing on my mind was what to do afterwards once we got here.
Sitting back at the table, I stir my coffee and think about the ways I can execute a smooth delivery.
I get distracted when I hear the water draining and movement in the bathroom.
I imagine her—and that brilliant body of hers—wet and hot from the bath. Lathering the soap on her tits, stomach, and—
Calm yourself, Griffin! The woman needs to go.
Opening the door, she stands in the door frame with the silk hugging her silhouette.
I stop stirring my coffee and gape at her—only for a moment.
She really knows how to enter a fucking room.
“Did the bath treat you well?” I ask, trying to refocus my attention on her well-being and not her smooth, wet, and heated body.
“Very. It felt amazing,” she says as she smooths her kimono down.
My gaze travels down her body as she walks toward me and sits in the chair across from me. I soak in her tight, delicate frame that the kimono does very little to hide—especially the fact that she’s cold.
I try to stop a smile from forming and distract myself by drinking the cold, dreadful coffee.
“So, my savior, what are your plans now?”
She looks around the apartment as if something in here will give her a clue.
“To return you safe and sound to your family, love. Hopefully as smooth and as uneventful as possible.”
“Sounds promising. You’ve gotten me out, I’m sure you can get me back in.”
I smile, reassuringly.
Hopefully that’s the case. Taking things is easy. Putting them back—not so much.
“So, what will that entail exactly? And when?”
Her patience looks to be quickly dwindling.
“Well, first I’ll have to go assess the hotel. But most importantly, that fine arse of yours will remain here, bound, as I do my preliminary check. Again—and I can’t stress this enough, love—this will be smooth and uneventful.”
“Is tying me up really necessary?”
She glares at me, obviously annoyed at the thought.
Ignoring her attitude, I find myself quite excited to tie her back up. My cock is eagerly anticipating it as well. And that’s not even my sort of thing.
“Yes, very. As your savior, I need to ensure the safe return of my damsel. And that requires tying you in this apartment, unable to run away and fuck up the plan,” I say while trying to stifle my rising desire and irritation.
It’s a heavy mix.
But I also say this to her, having no idea how it’ll be done. All I’m certain of is that I have to return her. She’s an heiress with a bullseye on her back, and having her here with me brings unwanted attention—and stress.
That’s one of the main reasons why I always work alone. I might have friends who I rely on for certain things, but for the most part, I do it on my own.
I don’t need anyone because frankly, I know I can do a better job without them. I’m the best at what I do.
Always have been and always will be.