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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 cock inside your tight pussy.”
I parted my legs wider as I stared up at him; then he entered me, and I moaned as his cock 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 fuck 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 pussy 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.
His finger pushed, and I tensed.
“No, Eme. Don’t fight it. I promise it’ll feel good, but it can’t be if you won’t relax.”
I took several deep breaths, then moaned, as he pushed his finger inside my tight ass at the same time.
“Oh God.” It felt full and weird and … fuck, it felt illicit and amazing too. Then when he started pushing his finger in and out like he was fucking my ass while he continued to play with my clit, I nearly exploded.
“I’m going to fuck your ass one day. So tight and sweet, and you’ll love having me balls-deep inside you.” God, why was I so turned on by that? “Now, I’m going to fuck your pussy, and you’re going to scream.”
He placed himself at my entrance then pushed hard and deep. His hand was on the small of my back pressing me down while his other grabbed my hip, fingers digging into my flesh. His balls slapped against me as he thrust over and over again.
I was panting and arching my back while I pushed back against him.
“Come, Eme. Touch yourself.”
I did, and I within seconds I was coming and crying out as he continued to slam into me. Both hands were now holding my hips as he yanked me back into him with a fierceness that sent my orgasm into a long, drawn-out high.
“Fuck.” He suddenly stopped moving, the tips of his fingers digging into my skin as I felt his cock jerk inside me. “Jesus.”
When he slipped out of me, the syrupy warmth of Logan came with him and ran down the insides of my thighs. I was about to lie down, spent, and fully sated when he stroked my head then down my back to my ass where he caressed my ass cheeks.
“Don’t move.”
The mattress dipped as he lay down beside me and stared at me with my ass in the air, arched and body heated. After several minutes, he hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me down beside him then kissed my temple. “Your pussy is made for my cock.”
Yeah, it was. The problem was despite what we shared sexually, I knew I’d leave him without a second of hesitation if given the opportunity to escape. Maybe I had this secret hope that we’d leave together, but it was small, a fleck of dust in a tornado.
I was falling asleep, wrapped in his embrace when I definitely heard the words, “Dream sweet, Emily.”
Day 11
It was morning, and Logan left me alone like he usually did when he went to train. I lay in bed, lost in my thoughts of last night when the door suddenly opened. I scrambled off the mattress and knelt on the floor my heat thumping erratically at his unexpected early appearance.
Logan shut the door.
The lock turned.
Then he came toward me. I stared at the floor, hands resting on my thighs, although resting was not a word I should associate to how I was feeling—more like reeling with uncertainty. Had I done something wrong? Why was he back earlier? My mind went over in reverse everything that happened last night. Had I called him Logan? Did I not do everything he asked?
“Up.”
I stood.
“Shower. Now.”
I walked to the washroom, and he snagged my hand before I had the chance to pull off the nightgown. It was flimsy and see-through, but it was the only clothing I was allowed, so I wore it.
“Undress me.”
I looked up at him, and I saw the darkness mixed with lust swirling in his eyes. Hesitantly, I put my hands on the edge of his T-shirt then pulled it up over his head.
“Drop it.”
I let the shirt slip from my fingers.
He waited. I was staring at his muscles that were tight and flexed. Logan didn’t have a six pack; he had an eight pack and each one was glistening.
“Emily.” His low, warning tone had me reaching for his shorts. My fingers gripped the material at his hips. “Slowly.”
