Hurt Me Like You Mean It [BL]-Chapter 14: cum stained jeans

Chapter 14: Chapter 14: cum stained jeans
Their positions had changed and Lance found himself leaning on the desk again.
Ansel didn’t make any sign of touching him, instead he just stared at him, watching him with those dark, calm eyes that seemed to stare into those depths of his souls.
"There’s a bathroom in the corner. You can clean up there."
Lance had to turn back, facing Ansel slightly to see where he was pointing at.
Now he knew the location of the bathroom but had absolutely no way of getting there.
His legs felt as though they were made of jelly, he was sure if he moved from this position he would fall.
But Ansel had already told him where the bathroom was, meaning he wanted him to clean up so he couldn’t stay in this position anymore, he didn’t want to get slapped again.
That would make it the third time today.
So he swallowed, gathered whatever dignity he had left, and pushed himself off the desk.
But his legs gave out instantly, sending him fast falling to the floor.
He braced himself for impact, as he reached for his head, might as well protect his important parts.
A second passed, then another and another but the impact wasn’t coming.
Lance opened one eye, then the other.
Only to see that, Ansel had caught him.
One arm was curved around his waist, as though he’d expected Lance to fall and was simply waiting for it. Their eyes met, and Lance instantly flushed.
Ansel had this same intense stare he used on him whenever their eyes met, he didn’t say a man but it was as though this man could see his past, present and future.
Lance swallowed. He tried for a thank you, tried to gather a sentence, but before he could manage even that, his feet left the ground entirely.
His breath hitched as he let out a yelp.
"What are you doing, Sir?!"
-_-
Ansel had lifted him into a full bridal style.
Lance’s breath stuttered. His arms tensed, unsure of where to hold, unsure if he should even touch him.
Ansel didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he simply adjusted his hold like Lance weighed nothing.
"Careful now.." Ansel said quietly, as if Lance weren’t already in his arms, as if the warning hadn’t come three seconds too late.
Lance’s ears burned. His voice came out smaller than he intended.
"I—I could’ve walked..."
Ansel didn’t answer at first as he began walking to the bathroom.
"If you could work why we’re you falling head first to the floor? Or is this your new trick to get my attention?"
-_-
Lance blushed, why would he risk his life just to grab Ansel’s attention?!
That was straight up tomfullery.
"Mr. Lowell I would never risk my life to get your attention. Getting your attention is easy, I will find out what you like about me the most and use it to my advantage.."
Ansel laughed, this kid was funny.
To think he had gone out of his usual routine to make a 24 year old his slave, he must have been crazy.
For this type of relationship, he usually choose partners in their late twenties, preferably 2 to 3 years younger than him.
As to why he chose Lance, who was 6 years younger than him still baffled him.
"And what do you think. It is, i like about you at this moment?"
His voice was calm, too calm, that quiet edge that always made Lance feel like he was being examined rather than spoken to.
Ansel didn’t look at him when he said it either, he simply pushed the bathroom door open with his shoulder, still holding Lance as if the weight meant nothing.
Lance’s throat tightened.
What did this man like about him?
His mind went blank.
Completely.
Utterly blank.
He hated how easily Ansel did this, how one line, one tone drop, could turn his brain into scrambled eggs.
"I–... well..." Lance swallowed hard. "My... personality?"
Ansel finally looked at him then, an amused expression appearing in his face like he had heard the funniest thing in the world.
A stare followed next, one that dragged down Lance’s face as if he were reading lines off a page.
Lance wished he could disappear into the floor.
Or the wall.
Or thin air.
Anything.
"Your personality..." Ansel repeated, as if tasting the words.
Lance nodded, because what else was he supposed to say?
"I mean—yeah. I have... one. And people like it sometimes."
A breath, barely a sound, left Ansel. It wasn’t close to being laughter.
More like the exhale of a man genuinely amused despite himself.
"You’re bold when you’re trying to hide you’re embarrassed.." Ansel said, voice low. "That’s one."
Lance blinked, unsure if that was a compliment or an observation he should run from.
"And two.." Ansel continued, "you talk too much when you panic. It’s strangely honest."
Lance didn’t know where to look. The ceiling? The sink? The tiles? His own hands?
His face burned hot enough to warm the whole bathroom.
"That’s not.." Lance stopped. "I don’t talk that much."
"You do.." Ansel replied simply.
He set Lance down on the bathroom counter, he was neither rough or gentle but he made sure he was balanced before letting go.
Ansel stepped back slightly, folding his hands, his eyes still on Lance’s face.
"What I like about you Lance..." he added, tilting his head just a little. "Is your body, your slim waist, soft ass, your pretty face, your soft voice, breathless moans..."
Lance stared at him, stunned.
He had forgotten the main reason he was here, to be Ansel’s sex slave. If Ansel didn’t like his body, he woudnt he here.
"I like how you take my dick in without complaining. That’s your job anyway.." he said, grabbing Lance’s chin, he stroked Lance’s jaw slowly then continued talking.
"Now, take a bath. I will get a new set of clothes for you, can’t have you walking around in cum stained jeans.."