I say the only thing that comes to mind that I think he might want me to say. "You're my Dom, Sir, and I'm your sub."
His face hardens to stone, confusing me.Isn't that what he wants?
I reach for him, not wanting to anger him further and trying to show him I care about him.
He holds my wrists in front of us. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"
"Sorry."
"Sorry's not good enough, pet. You don't like rules, do you?" he accuses.
I stay quiet.
He drags his knuckles over my chest, squeezing my nipple between his fingers until I gasp, demanding, "I asked you a question, and I want an answer." He moves to my other breast.
I try to steady my breath.
"Answer me," he pushes.
"I like your rules."
He grunts. "No, you don't. You don't even like me."
"That's not true," I cry out.
He scoffs. "Then what do you want us to be, Blakely? What do you get out of this?"
I don't know why he's pushing this. There's no answer I can give him that will make him happy. He's made it clear he doesn't want me to be his girlfriend. My acknowledgment that he's the Dom and I'm the sub wasn't what he was looking for. No matter what I say, I can't win. So I firmly state, "I want you to come home."
"No. Wrong answer," he asserts and cups his hand over my pussy. His index finger slides across my slit.
The fire in my core lights up. It's been so long since he's touched me. But I don't want him like this. It makes me realize how much I appreciate the in-control-of-everything Riggs.
I beg again, "Come to bed. Please."
"Nope, not until you're honest," he states.
"I don't know what you want me to say," I admit.
"Sure you do. I want the truth. Why can't you just give me the truth, pet?"
"I have told you the truth."
"No, you haven't," he insists. He leans closer to my ear and repeats in a slow but firm voice, "What do you want from me?"
I keep my mouth shut, too scared about what might come out.
"Tell me the truth, and I'll stay," he adds.
I can't blink my tears away. They drip down my cheek. I cave and admit, "I want you to love me."
He sighs as if relieved, which surprises me again. Then his face turns darker. He studies me for a moment, and a sinister grin forms on his lips. "Sorry to disappoint you, pet. I don't love," he claims.
I turn my face away, trying to control my emotions. He mutters, "You're better off." He spins and walks toward the front door.
"Riggs, you're drunk," I repeat and grab the keys out of his hand.
It takes him by surprise. He turns on me. "Don't fuck with me, Blakely."