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His hold on my arm lessens, but he doesn’t fully let me go.
“Kristen. Bedtime. Now,” Logan orders to his wife. “You too, pet.”
It’s the second time he’s called me “pet.” He got pissed when he saw what CJ had done to my forehead, telling him not to touch his “things.” And now I’m sharing a tent with him? What exactly does he want with me?
I’m about to find out.
Logan roughly guides me to our destination. I frantically look around for my sisters, but before I can locate them, I’m being shoved into a decent-sized tent. I land hard on my knees, a thin sleeping bag barely breaking my fall. Pain splinters down my legs and I scramble to the corner of the tent to escape whatever punishments I may have brought on myself.
Kristen crawls into the tent but says nothing to me. She sits down and bows her head. I’m not sure what the hell is going on or what’s expected of me, but I don’t like it. I don’t like any of this.
“I’m sorry, but he was hurting my sister—” I start but am cut off by Logan’s deep, authoritative voice.
“You speak when I allow it, pet.”
Logan zips the tent and walks toward me on his knees. When he unbuckles his belt, I tense. The leather slings out of his belt loops with a swooshing sound. I’m frozen in fear, unsure of what happens next. He doesn’t toss away the belt and start for the button on his jeans like I think he might, instead wrapping the leather around his fist.
Just like Dad used to when we were little and would get in trouble.
Admittedly, Ryder got the belt a lot more than I did.
“Let’s get this over with,” Logan commands. “This can either go quickly or you can fight me every step of the way. The latter will hurt a lot worse.”
This can’t be happening.
I shake my head in defiance, edging against the tent wall to keep space between us. It’s futile because in the next second, he pounces at me. I swing at him, hoping to knock him in the jaw and keep him away from me. Logan easily deflects the punch and slams me onto the ground. The hand with the belt smashes my chest down as he yanks at the button of my jeans. All too easily, he unzips my jeans and jerks them down my thighs.
I fight him.
Fuck, how I do.
But Logan is massive and strong. We’re no match.
A panicked keening sound escapes me as he flips me over onto my stomach. I can see Kristen in her same submissive position, not looking over at us. This is happening and there’s nothing I can do about it.
He exposes my ass, much to my humiliation, and roughly gropes one cheek. In another life, hell, even a week ago, this might’ve been one of my darkest fantasies come to life. Not now. Now it’s torture and terrifying.
His hand disappears and then the fiery lash of the belt strikes my ass.
I scream.
So loud it makes my own ears hurt.
And it doesn’t stop him.
Lash after lash after lash, Logan beats me with his belt. The pain is so excruciating, I start to black out. On the rare occasions I did get spankings from Dad, it was never this hard and he usually stopped at three licks.
I stop counting after twenty.
All I can do is moan and sob as Logan takes out his anger on my ass cheeks.
This is hell. I’m in hell.
Finally, after an eternity, Logan tosses his belt down. Then, with sickeningly sweet gentleness, he tugs my boxers up over my ass. I remain unmoving but am still crying as he removes my jeans and shoes.
“You can sleep on the end tonight, pet,” Logan says, voice soft and sweet like when he played me after we first met. “We don’t want your bruises to get bumped in the middle of the night.”
I shudder when he hooks an arm under me and pulls me up onto my knees. My entire face is wet from tears and sweat. I’m humiliated and feel like the weakest fucking man on the planet. He nuzzles his nose against my sweat-slicked neck before kissing the flesh there. I flinch at his touch, which causes him to sigh sadly.
