I closed my eyes, hands against the wall, the water pounding into my body like he had during my captivity two years ago. His hands had been on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh as he f**ked me from behind that day in the shower. His lips nibbled at the crook of my neck as he slowed, sliding in and out. I moaned, then begged for him to go harder, faster as he pulled out, hands wrapping around my hair and yanking my head back so he could take my mouth with a cruel, deep kiss that had my body screaming for more.
He’d been right. He was engraved in me, and no amount of time or washing or running was going to get him out of me. I had to accept that. I did accept that.
I leaned back against the tiles as more memories flooded.
I never heard the door open, nor the dropping of clothes on the floor, still lost in my grip of desire.
Hands cupped my cheeks, and my eyes flew open.
Our eyes locked.
Held.
Desire spiraled around us tying us together. Logan tilted his head, the water pounding down on him as he leaned closer.
I closed my eyes and inhaled him.
He was part of me.
Logan had never left me. And I knew that even if I denied us, I’d never get him out of me. Love didn’t work that way.
“You don’t get to touch that yourself without me.”
I moaned, and that was all it took before his lips crashed down onto mine. Our need was so intense every part of my body ached.
There was nothing sweet in his kiss. His force was bruising, relentless, and he stole my breath. My hands were all over him, gripping, fondling, pulling at his hair one minute then stroking his back the next.
“Emily,” he murmured as his mouth scorched my skin and nibbled across the curve of my neck until he was suckling my shoulder. His hands ran down my sides to my thighs then back up again. I leaned my head back, his rough hands caressing my wet skin. I needed it stronger. I wanted more.
He stopped. “You still on the pill?”
“Yes.”
“Thank f**k.”
His hands leaving me drained my body of heat even though the water was still driving down on us. My eyes flew open.
“Logan?” I was breathing hard, and I reached for him unable to stop myself. I needed him, screw sensible. I didn’t know how to be sensible around him. He knocked sensible right out of the universe.
“Don’t move.”
I gasped. It was that voice. That deep, resounding voice he used when I was forced to call him Master.
My body lurched with desire, and I stopped breathing as I stared at him watching me. This man controlled everything about me.
“Please,” I begged.
“Part your legs.”
I did.
“Wider.”
I did, my chest rising and falling as my eyes never left his. He moved in, then his hand cupped me, and I moaned at the touch.
“Shh, Emily. No sounds.”
“Logan.” It was me still begging. His hand moved away, and I cried out grabbing for his hand to put it back. But he stopped me with one look, and my hands dropped to my sides, and I knew exactly what he was doing to me. He’d make me wait. He’d fill my body with such need that I’d do anything for him so he’d end my blissful torture.
“No touching.” The orders were familiar, but this time I knew the intent of the man who said them. Logan loved me, and damn it, he knew this is what I needed. He’d known all along, and he was showing me that no matter what he’d done to me for those two weeks, I desired this. I wanted this and still did.
He never forced me. He gave me what I wanted, yet I tried to deny.
I nearly broke when his fingers glided down between my br**sts to my bellybutton then lower until he was slipping back and forth through my folds. My eyes closed, legs shook, and I held my breath as he tortured me. The pads of his two fingers scissored on either side of my clit, just touching then backing off again. I was about to break when his fingers drove inside me, and my head fell back hard against the tiled wall. When I moaned, he withdrew, and I nearly screamed at him, but knew that I got nothing doing that, so I looked at him and swallowed, waiting.
“Good girl.” He smiled, and his fingers circled my clit, slow and soft until I was panting, the urgency building in me so intense. I was desperate to come.
But Logan didn’t let me as he pulled back and bent his head to suckle my ni**les, first one and then the other. His hands gripped my h*ps while he relentlessly pulled on the sensitive nipple with his teeth until he saw my body tense and arch against him in pain. Then he let go and circled the sensitive nub with his tongue.
“Turn around.”
The moment I had my cheek up against the tiles, he took my hands and placed them above my head spread eagle. His hands curled around my wrists and locked them there.
I pushed back into him and felt his c**k twitch as it touched my ass. He groaned, and his mouth delved into the crook of my neck. “I need my c**k inside you. I need to f**k you so hard I’m afraid I’ll break you.”
In response, I wiggled against him, and he let go of my wrist to slide down my chest to between my legs where he began his assault, bringing me so close yet stopping again and again until I almost cried.
“Logan. Now. Please. Please.”
“Bend over.” He took a step back so I could.
He groaned, and then his fingers wove into my hair and pulled back so he could reach my mouth. His kiss was fierce as he pushed inside me so deep it was almost painful. He filled me, the swell of him stretching my insides as he began to move in and out. His arm locked around my waist, my hands pressed up against the wall, his mouth at my ear, hearing his rough, harsh breathing as he went faster.