The floorboards creaked as he walked toward me then stopped.
I held my breath.
He reached down and drew me up in front of him then lowered his head. My heart skipped a beat, the pit of my stomach dropped, and my breath seized all at the same time.
His lips descended, soft and tender, as he slid his tongue inside my mouth. His arms encased me in his embrace, the hold on my body fierce and unrelenting, unlike his kiss that was sweet, gentle.
I tilted my head back, and he deepened the kiss groaning.
He nipped my lower lip then picked me up in his arms with one swoop and carried me to the bed. Without letting me go, he lowered me onto it then followed, his weight lying on top of me.
“You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
I was in a way. I belonged to him. I had sex with him. And at night I loved him, but with the rise of the morning sun came the hate for the man who was doing this to me.
“Do you want this?”
Was I weak because I craved his affection? Wanted to be stroked and caressed and loved by this man so badly that I felt dead inside without him? Did it make me pathetic?
“Emily.”
I closed my eyes and whispered, “Yes.”
He gently dragged my nightgown up and over my head; then his eyes roamed down my body, and it felt as if the tips of his fingers were trailing across my skin. I’d never thought myself pretty or attractive, merely plain and average. My mother called me “a waste of space.” But when Logan looked at me, it made me feel beautiful, and I never wanted it to end.
“Hands above your head.”
I listened, wrapping my hands around the edge of the headboard.
I knew this is what he liked—complete submission—and it was maddening, because it turned me on. I liked it. I didn’t even try to understand it.
I heard the sound of his zipper and then the rustling of fabric as he took off his clothes.
“Legs,” he ordered.
I opened my legs.
He pulled them further apart and settled between them. He groaned as his fingers caressed my br**sts then my ni**les, hard, and yet, Logan had this sweetness in him. It existed; I knew it did. It couldn’t just be my imagination.
“Not tonight. Not any night. Never call me Logan again.”
I wasn’t stupid. I knew I’d made a mistake. I had hoped that maybe Logan was protecting me against Raul. He’d blindfolded me when Raul had come to the room that one time. Could Logan have suspected I’d crack and fight if I’d been able to see Raul’s face? Maybe that was why he dragged me out of the dining hall so fast. Or maybe I was just being absurd wanting Logan to care about me.
Then he kissed me, and the Lego blocks in my mind crumbled.
Logan’s kiss grew stronger as I submitted to him. I didn’t fight. No, I wanted to feel alive again even if it was wrong. Was it strength to submit to him because I wanted to? I was fighting for salvation, and if Logan gave me that then I won.
His fingers entered me, and I moaned. “Emily. You’re my everything.”
He drove his fingers in and out, his teeth grazing across my neck then to my ni**les. He suckled and played with them then bit down, and I cried out with pain, and my hands let go of the headboard.
“Don’t move.” His voice was demanding, and I knew not to disobey, but I also heard a hint of sweet in his voice.
I put my hands back.
Logan bit me again, and this time I let the feelings flow across my body without moving. It was pain, and then pleasure came right after. It fed me. It gave me what I needed, and I awakened to him.
He gripped my chin. “Look at me.”
I did.
“Tell me.”
“What?”
“Tell me you want me inside you.”
That’s what he wanted. My permission. My complete submission. And I gave it to him. “Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I want you inside me Lo—” I stopped abruptly.
He waited.
“I want you inside me ... Master.”
“Wider, baby.” I cringed when he called me that. It tore me apart. It was how he said it, his tone tender, as if he cared about me. “I want you to look at me when I put my c**k inside your tight pu**y.”
I parted my legs wider as I stared up at him; then he entered me, and I moaned as his c**k filled me completely. It was like the world became a safe place the moment he was inside me. As if he was mine and I was his and nothing around us existed anymore.
I hooked my legs around his waist and arched my back wanting him deeper, closer, needing him encased into me as he pumped madly. Our bodies slapped together as if he was spanking me, the sound vibrating through the room. I kept my arms above my head, but it was hard not to run my hands the length of him.
Suddenly he grabbed me around the waist and flipped me over. “Cheek to the pillow. One hand on the headboard.”
My breath hitched.
“Ass in the air. I’m going to f**k you from behind, Emily.”
I raised my ass and felt his hands grab hold of my hips. Oh God, it felt sweet and hot, and I wanted him back inside me. I knew I was going to come fast with him taking me like this.
He didn’t enter me right away, instead his finger slid down my ass crevice then, slowly, further down into my pu**y then back up again as he dragged the wetness up to my ass.
I tensed as he circled the tight opening.
“Relax.” His voice was soft and sweet. “You need to relax and push out.”
It was embarrassing, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted his finger in that forbidden place. But it was also making me hotter.