A wicked grin spread across Gareth's lips as he snubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. Oh, he'd<em>hoped</em>Anel would refuse...<br/><br/>In a fluid motion he was up from the chair, not upsetting the delicately balanced ashtray resting on the arm, his hand reaching over the trunk to grip Anel by his throat. It was hard enough to show him that he meant business, but not hard enough to actually cut off his air supply - yet at least - and Gareth half-purred, half-growled as he leaned in to whisper into Anel's ear.<br/><br/>"I was so hoping you would give me an excuse to hurt you more tonight, Anel."<br/><br/>Keeping the grip on his throat, Gareth moved around the trunk carefully, leading Anel along with him, his grip hard enough to possibly leave small bruises from his fingers on his slender neck, the quirt still firmly in his other hand. As they reached the bed, he abruptly let him go, reaching up to firmly weave his fingers into Anel's hair, grabbing a handful, gripping it tight enough to hurt as he shoved him firmly down onto the bed.<br/><br/>"Now, I'll give you another chance... assume the position."