Page 65 of Twisted Obsession

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Regina

My heavy eyes fluttered open and my gaze settled on the purple beads that sat on the bedside table next to Ansel’s large bed. It took me a moment to realize I was in his playroom.

After he’d uncuffed me, he’d gazed at me with a level of care I’d never seen in him before. I could tell he didn’t want to leave me last night, which was the biggest compliment I could have asked for in a relationship like ours.

Shouting out that safe word had been a blessing of sorts. He’d taken me so brutally hard. Who knew I liked it rough until he’d showed me I did? Twenty of the hardest strokes from the biggest dick I’d ever had, and he had me falling apart.

I’d been at war with myself over Ansel countless times. He protected me, a sacrifice on his part that I was beyond grateful for. He also gave me something I’d never had before, the best sex of my life. And although he may never admit it to himself, I think he cared about me too.

My fingertips traced my lips before a smile bent them. How was it that he could make me feel so free, and open, and sexy? Now that my mind wasn’t clouded with lust, I could think. I’d failed miserably at my goal of keeping my feelings to myself. Thinking with a level head when Ansel had the ability to take me to another world was too much to ask.

Each time he touched me, kissed me, or focused his attention on me for any amount of time, my heart fluttered, my pulse quickened, and my damn brain went numb. I was falling for Ansel Knox, and I wasn’t sure there was a whole hell of a lot I could do about it.

I was in trouble. The kind of deep trouble I couldn’t dig my way out of. Did I want too much? Was I looking too deep? Was I hoping too hard? Probably. I couldn’t help but think that there was more between us than just mind-blowing sex. Sometimes, I glimpsed care, compassion, and understanding in Ansel’s gaze when he looked at me.

Leave it alone, Regina.

I slung my feet over the side of the bed and eased my body up. My wrist burned from being cuffed, but I didn’t care. The silly smile I couldn’t keep away spread across my lips as I inched my naked body closer to the bathroom.

Every muscle I used ached, but it was a good ache that called forth memories that I never wanted to forget. Ansel had made every sore muscle and every creaky bone worth it.

After I’d relieved myself and washed my hands, I peeked into the small closet stocked with towels. I retrieved a large fluffy white towel and wrapped it around myself. There weren’t any windows or clocks in the playroom, so I had no idea what time of day or night it was, and I didn’t want Gigi to catch me walking around naked.

After traveling through the living room and up to my room, the brightness shining through the drapes and a quick glance at the clock revealed it was afternoon. I’d been sexed so well that I’d slept most of the day away.

After a shower, I attempted to tame my hair and settled for putting it into a French braid. I threw on a pair of the sexy black panties Ansel had purchased because sexy undies were all I had now. The man had good taste, that’s for sure, but I wasn’t going to always let him dictate what I could and couldn’t wear.

Thanks to Ansel, I didn’t have a thing to put on except sexy dresses and lingerie. I wrapped myself in another towel and eased down the hall towards his bedroom. For comfort, his clothes were all I had left to wear.

His bedroom door was always left open, so I peeked in and found it empty. His bed was untouched, which meant that he’d not returned after the call he’d gotten last night.

The heady scent of him permeated the room, enticing me to take in a deep breath that I released on a sigh. My gaze landed on a stack of letters sitting on Ansel’s dresser addressed to Tyler A. Knox. I stood in place letting his full name sink him. Why didn’t he use his first name? I added this mystery to the collection of others I hoped he’d someday solve for me.

A peek into his closet enticed me to tiptoe in. My curiosity about him was always on high alert. My fingers ran across a row of freshly pressed shirts of varying colors. A row of suit jackets came next. The thick wooden hangers played a tune as they danced from my touch.

A flicker of light caught my eye and caused me to stop in my curious tracks. My head tilted before I inched back a step. I placed my arms between the suit jackets and spread them apart, the hangers screeching against the metal rod.

What the hell is that?

I inched closer to the light winking at me and the realization of what I stared at floored me. My gaze remained on the back of my hand as I reached up and pushed at the crack. When pushing didn’t work, I slid my finger past the opening, and a little pressure caused the doorway to slide open.

The view of the arsenal of weapons in his secret closet was starting to paint a vivid picture of who Ansel really was. So many guns, hand grenades, knives, gloves, and strangling devices. Although I knew certain aspects of Ansel, mystery and intrigue still surrounded him.

What was Ansel up to? I remember him telling that man in the alley that he hadn’t killed anyone in three days.

The ideas climbing into my head sent nervous tremors through my body. Ansel eyed me like a hawk, but what he didn’t know was that I paid attention too. I sensed his eyes on me when I couldn’t see him and believed he had at least a few cameras someplace inside the house. Though at first the idea of being watch concerned me, it was who was watching me that quickened my pulse and pushed me past my reservations.

Some of my sleepless nights would lead me to the chaise or the living room couch. Ansel received calls if it had something to do with my family, but there were other times I’d seen Ansel coming in at daybreak with splatters of blood on his clothes.

He didn’t update me on the things he did while away, and I didn’t ask. I was afraid to know. He often dressed in a suit to go to work, but I sensed it wasn’t just office work he did. I’d spotted the black leather gloves he’d slip on or carry along with him. Now that I think about it, he hadn’t attempted to hide them from me. Who was the real Ansel Knox?