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“What?”
“A safe word,” he clarifies, his gaze boring into me.
“Red,” I blurt, relief flooding through me.
He stares hard for another minute, then gives a sharp nod of satisfaction. “Use it if you need to. And don’t move.”
I start to nod but then think better of it when his eyes flare with the darkness I just asked for.
With Logan, words matter. Don’t move meansdon’t move.
He gets off the bed and strips the blankets off completely, and I shiver with the sudden chill, goosebumps rising on my skin and my nipples pebbling under the intensity of his gaze.
He repositions me the way he wants me, then pulls out a knife—the same one he scarred me with—and makes quick work of slicing up the bed sheet into long, thin strips.
His actions are nothing like the controlled rage I saw when he shredded all my clothes and cut the ones I was wearing off me after I’d first come to the Reaper house, and yet somehow the quick, efficient actions feel even more dangerous in their deliberation.
I fight the need to squirm, my breath quickening and slick heat gathering between my legs.
Logan’s nostrils flare like he can smell it, then he tucks the knife away and crawls onto the bed, using the shredded sheet to tie me up well enough that it’s no longer a question of obeying him or not. Ican’tmove.
He rakes his gaze down my body, then follows with his fingers, lightly skimming them over my waist where he removed the stitches before pressing them against the scar on my chest. Then he pinches my nipples, hard enough to make me jerk against my bonds as I cry out with the sudden, sharp twin bursts of pain.
Logan smiles, and my pussy throbs with a deep, yearning ache.
He drags all four fingers through the wet folds, then slaps my clit.
“Fuck,” I gasp, my back arching off the bed as pleasure and pain ripple through me in a twisted spiral that only leaves me wanting more.
He gives it to me, working me up with a clinical precision and a focused intensity that leaves me almost sobbing. Pushing my body to its limits in a way I’ve never experienced before. Every piece of me is fully exposed to him, completely at his mercy, and it’s like he’s figured out exactly how to turn each and every inch of my body into an erogenous zone.
And for every stroke, rub, tease, and slap he gives me, he adds in a twist of darkness, a sliver of pain, hurting me the perfect amount to keep me teetering right on the razor’s edge between bliss and danger, between pleasure and pain.
But he doesn’t kiss me again. He stays fully clothed and keeps his distance.
He’s doing thisforme, to me, but not with me.
At least, that’s what I think until I notice the rigid line of his cock, trapped in his jeans.
“Logan,” I whimper, my whole body aching with need. I want him inside me. I want him to fuck me. I need it. I’m almost delirious with it.
But he doesn’t give it to me.
Instead, he forces me to come.
“Oh shit, fuck, god,yes,” I pant, shuddering in the aftermath.
His fingers drip with my arousal as he finally rips open his jeans, his eyes still burning into me like pale fire, and frees his cock. He drops down on top of me, bracing himself with one arm so a few inches remain between us, and shoves the thick head against my swollen clit.
Once. Twice. And then I’m coming again, my body straining against the tight restraints as it rips through me.
Logan never breaks eye contact as he starts jerking himself off with short, violent strokes and then spatters his release across my stomach, marking me up all over again.
His cum pools in my navel and runs down my sides, and I want to taste him again so badly I could scream. I’m sure he feels the same. His lips hover just inches above mine, his knuckles brushing against my damp skin as his cock softens between us. But then he blinks and jerks away, rising up to his knees between my spread legs.
For a moment, I think he’s going to bolt, but then his eyes flare with that pale fire again and he carefully catches the cum that’s started to drip down onto the mattress, rubbing it into my skin. Spreading it out until I’m completely covered and working it in like he’s trying to merge it with my flesh.
Finally, once he’s satisfied, he unties me and rubs feeling back into my wrists and ankles where they were bound before repositioning me on the bed.
