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It’s not painful, not quite. But it is.
That’s the sensation I get when my back hits the wall.
But then one hand is on my throat. I watched him choke AJ. It was a clear power play between them. Logan has to be the leader. Has to be in control. It’s the way of things between these friends who are clearly way more than friends.
So I wonder, as his other hand finds my hip and slides up to my waist, is he AJ’s monster too?
Is what he was offering to me? What he gives AJ? He will die for him?
It’s a nice thought.
“Yvette,” AJ says from across the shower.
I look over at him. Sitting on the bench, pressed into the corner. One knee bent, one foot on the stone seat. Legs open as he jerks off.
“What?” I say. Softly. Probably too softly.
But he must hear me or maybe he reads my lips. Because he says, “Just say yes.”
I nod my head. Because I did say yes. I already decided. I don’t want to die. I will let him be my monster. I said yes.
But I’m not sure if that’s what he means.
“No,” AJ says. “Say it to him.”
I look up at Logan and find him frowning. “Yes, “ I say quickly. Because I don’t want there to be any doubts. Then I clasp my hands behind his neck, draw him down as I stand on my tiptoes, and kiss his mouth, whispering, “Be my monster,” past his lips.
He lets out a breath of air that is something between a sigh and a laugh. And then his hands grip under my thighs and he lifts me up. His hard cock pressing against my lower stomach as I wrap my legs around his ass.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
I’m not sure of anything except… I don’t want to die now. I want to live. And I need him to do that. Because he was sent here to kill me.
So I say, “Yes. I want to live.”
Logan kisses me hard. It’s a desperate, hard, unyielding kiss that feels very much like a claim of ownership.
I close my eyes because as sick as it is, I want him to claim me and to own me.
I want them both.
AJ has already made his promise and now I have Logan’s too.
I wonder what he’ll want from me in return?
Choke me with his cock again? Stick his fist in my pussy? Some other kinky bit of fuckery that we haven’t yet done?
But when he reaches down for his cock and slips it inside me, he does it slowly. Carefully. Gently.
He goes very slow.
He says, “You OK?” when he enters me.
Which makes me laugh a little, the way he just did. Something between a sigh and a huff. “Fine,” I say. “Keep going.”
He does—but again, it’s slow. And thoughtful. And painstakingly unhurried. So that it takes many moments, maybe even an entire minute, for him to be deep inside me. Something he did quickly and with much force just this morning.
Is this what it means to be his? For him to be mine?
He is a killer. He is ruthless. He is… maybe… evil.
But not with me.
Not anymore.
With me he is just himself.
It’s hard not to be impressed. To be swept away in the tide of his possession.
“Your pussy feels so nice,” he says.
And it does, I realize. It’s smooth. I’ve always liked the first fuck after being waxed or shaved down there. It’s so much more sensitive. Even if I was just masturbating with a toy, it always felt different.
So it should not surprise me that this time feels different. Feels like we are more connected and in tune. That there’s actual emotions attached to this physical act.
But then I understand. It comes to me without effort. It’s just… there. Actual, and authentic, and real.
AJ did this on purpose. He took a kink of Logan’s and linked it to me—a beauty for Logan’s beast.
I glance over at AJ and find him grinning.
He knows what he did. But Logan doesn’t. Not yet, anyway. All Logan knows is that he wants to fuck me slow. He wants to feel that pussy he shaved. Enjoy it. Make it last.
Is that enough, I wonder? To tame him?
“Is it enough?” I ask him.
He smiles lazily. Like the way he’s fucking me. Pushing in, and stopping. Then pulling out, and stopping.
It shouldn’t be enough. There’s not enough urgency, or friction, or blind lust to maintain the arousal. Not nearly enough to make us come.
And yet… there’s more than enough at the same time.
He kisses me again. Just lips, no tongue. And still I worry it’s not sufficient. There should be nipping and biting, and teeth crashing, and reckless abandon.
“Oh,” he sighs. “It’s enough.”
So it is. Like his words are law. He says it and it’s true. I should believe him because he wouldn’t lie. Not to me. Not after I took ownership of his demon inside.
