Page 17 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)

I will gladly paint your canvas if you’re asking me to

I can’t believe what just happened. It’s like my wildest dream come true. Bambi completely encased in my rope and coming on my cock.

I’m a fucking idiot.

That’s the only reason I can come up with as to why I let other people dictate my actions involving Bambi.

Sure, she’s the good girl to my bad boy, doesn’t break the rules and is sweet as apple pie, but she’s also fucking perfect.

Considerate, accepting, joyful. Not to mention she’s apparently a little bit of a freak too.

I think she enjoys being tied up as much as I enjoy tying her up.

We lay in her bed, pleasantly exhausted and still completely naked, wrapped in each other in a way I don’t think I’ve ever done with another woman.

In a way I would never be with another woman, I realize.

There’s no one in this world like her and no matter where I go, I know I will never find a replacement for her.

I trail my finger over her skin, drawing patterns and designs I would love to see inked into her skin. My mark on her body forever like hers is on me.

Getting an idea that I can’t shake, I reach down to my jeans on the floor and pull out a fine point sharpie. I always have one on me. You never know when you will want to vandalize a bathroom stall.

Bambi is laying on her stomach, her perfect round ass propped up and waiting for my mark. I lean over her and begin doodling.

“What are you doing?” she chuckles but doesn’t stop me.

“Marking you. Property of Warren,” I playfully say as I draw on her ass cheek.

“What? You are not.”

She rears up from the mattress trying to look over her shoulder and make sure that’s not what I’m writing. I laugh and press on her shoulders, moving her back to laying on the sheets.

“No, I’m not writing that. But I am marking you as mine, putting my brand on you.”

A long time ago I thought I would one day be a famous artist. That was before my father beat that dream out of me. But when I was still star eyed and na?ve I created a signature that I was going to sign all my masterpieces with. If there’s one masterpiece in this world it’s definitely Bambi.

I draw the design carefully making sure each curve and line is perfect. It doesn’t take me long.

“There, finished.”

“What is it?”

“My signature. Marking you as my masterpiece.”

I toss the pen to the floor and admire my work and canvas for a moment, memorizing the image.

“I can’t see it,” Bambi complains.

“Um do you have a mirror or something? Oh, here.”

I grab her phone on the nightstand and take a photo and show it to her.

I stylized the first three letters of my name ‘War’ with graceful swirls and loops in a way that make the letters look more like shapes creating a whimsical but geometric design.

I didn’t want my signature to look like a name or letters but thought it would be so cool to be the artist only known as War.

Childish dreams, but the design is pleasing, especially on Bambi’s ass.

“So, am I just your canvas now? Are you going to draw all over me?”

I crawl up her body and lay down pulling her on top of me, placing her phone back on the table so she can use those fingers to touch me. My time with her is limited and I want her hands on me as much as possible.

“You’re beautiful as you are, but I will gladly paint your canvas if you’re asking me to.” I give her a devilish grin and am now thinking of painting her in my cum. Just as good as any paint.

Bambi slaps my chest but immediately rests her head on my pec, pressing herself tight against my body. I pull the blanket over us and think I could lay here with her in my arms forever. But I also can’t. Not after that reminder today running into my parents. But there’s another option.

Pulling Bambi tighter to my chest, I tuck the comforter around her tighter, keeping her warm.

“Come with me.”

“What?” Her voice is sleepy and muffled against my chest, and I love the sound. My determination solidifying even more with my decision.

“Come with me. Leave with me on my boat. See the world with me.” I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. It’s perfect. She’ll come with me, and we’ll travel the world and find a new place to plant roots that is nowhere near my parents or my past.

Bambi sits up, looking at me with a confused furrow in her brow.

“You want me to go with you? On your boat? In one day?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t sound as excited about this idea as I thought she would. I want to be with her and take her with me. We both get what we want.

“I can’t do that Warren.” Her face is crest fallen and she scoots up the bed, leaning against the headboard with the blanket pulled tight around her.

I follow her progression and sit next to her, keeping close. I can’t let her go now.

“Why not? It’s perfect. We get to stay together and get away from freezing cold Alaska, and my parents. We get to see the world and have an adventure. Find somewhere better.”

“I like Alaska. Also, I have the store and Gigi. I can’t just drop everything and leave on a whim in one day.”

The sleepy sweetness is gone now, and she looks at me, obviously displeased with my last-minute offer.

“Okay then, we’ll wait a few more days. Get everything settled and leave then,” I suggest. We could delay leaving for a few days. Not any more though. I already waited till the last possible time before winter sets in.

“No.” Her voice is stern but also sad. Why is she sad? “I will not be a last-minute impulse buy. I have a life here Warren, one I happen to like. A lot. I knew you could be selfish, but not like this. Did you even consider me when you came up with this idea?”

I freeze, and not from being naked. Bambi’s never spoken to me so angrily before.

Why is she so angry with me? I asked her to come with me.

I want to be with her. This is the perfect solution.

How can she not see that? Besides, she was the one who started all this by kissing me.

I was perfectly content with how things were and ready to leave without any issue until then.

“Then why did you kiss me? Why did you wait until I was already leaving to get involved with me?” I demand, getting a little angry now myself.

“Because I had to know. I’ve waited years for you to open your eyes and see me, and you never did. I had to find out for myself if my feelings were only one sided. And if I could only have you once before you left forever, then so be it.”

“So that was your plan?” I ask haughtily, scooting away from her so I can turn and face her straight on. “To use me for sex, just like the rest of them?”

My words hit harder than I expected and Bambi winces, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears. Fuck this is not going the way it’s supposed to. She wasn’t supposed to get angry and cry, she was supposed to be happy and cry with joy. What the fuck is happening?

“I’ve never used you for anything other than friendship Warren. I just figured it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Looks like I was wrong. Because this isn’t love, just lust.”

She scurries out of bed and grabs a robe slung over a chair, covering her beautiful body that’s still pink with my rope marks.

“I think you should leave now.”

“What?”

How did this go from the best night of my life and being immeasurably happy, to her kicking me out and claiming she doesn’t love me?

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach and nearly seizes with the realization of what’s happening. I can’t leave. Not without her. Can I?

“I shouldn’t have kissed you that first night. I realize that now. It was a mistake. You’ll never be able to think of anyone but yourself.”

I crawl out of bed and cross the room to her, reaching to hold her, pull her close and tell her how wrong she is. But she recoils from me, pulling farther away. Not just physically but internally as well. All softness falls from her face and in its place is heartbreaking resignation.

She won’t come with me. She also won’t ever understand how wrong she is.

Yes, I’ve had to put myself first to protect my own heart and mental well-being, but I’ve also always thought of her.

If she was safe and happy. That no one and nothing hurt her or took advantage of her pureness.

I’ve even gotten arrested twice because of the things I did that she never knew about.

But I also learned a long time ago self-preservation came first. If I couldn’t take care and protect myself, how would I ever be able to do it for someone I loved?

I’ve worried for a long time about what would happen to Bambi after I left.

Almost talked myself out of leaving because of it.

Sometimes there are things that take precedence over others, though.

And no matter how much I love Bambi; I hate my parents more.

The pain and trauma they’ve caused me over the years doing too much damage to ignore.

I grip my bare chest, right over the anchor tattoo with her name hidden within and try to ignore the cracking beneath somewhere in the vicinity of where my heart should be, and the lump in my throat.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, then I’ll leave.”

A flash of panic shines in her golden gaze, but she doesn’t move to stop me. She doesn’t say or do anything other than pinch her lips into a thin line and stare at me.

In jerky uncoordinated movements I get dressed and shove my rope and belongings back into my bag.

Bambi follows at a distance behind me as I make my way through her apartment.

Only when I have everything in my hands and stand at the door to leave do I stop.

Looking back at her over my shoulder, hoping she tells me to stay, that she changed her mind, and she will go with me.

She doesn’t do either. She doesn’t do anything, dropping her eyes to the floor when I don’t look away first. I think I see a tear roll down her cheek, but she turns her head away from me and I can’t tell.