Torn from You (12 page)

Logan slid off his jeans and his T-shirt,
but left on his boxers then climbed into bed and lay on his back
beside me.

He really was going to make me be the one to
pursue this? “Logan.”

“You want this then it has to be you.”

“Why? I like it when ...” How did I say that
I was totally turned on when he was the aggressor?

Logan stroked the back of my head, and I
looked up at him. “I’ll give you that. But not tonight.”

I felt the heat in my cheeks as I thought of
what I was going to do to him, the sweet ache in my belly as I
anticipated tasting him and watching his face while I did it.

I slipped over top of his thigh so that I
lay between his legs; then I put my fingers on the material that
kept his cock hidden from me. I watched his eyes as I slowly slid
his boxers down. He lifted his butt a little, and then my eyes
moved down his abdomen to his cock as it sprang free from its
confines.

I hesitated, and my hand reached out to
touch the tip, feeling the moisture. He sucked in air and I got
braver as I slid his boxers off the rest of the way and then
wrapped my hand around the base of his cock.

Instantly, it jerked, and Logan groaned.

God, I felt powerful. It was incredible that
I could make him feel like that with just holding him.

“Emily.” His hand caressed my cheek, and
when I looked at him I saw his features ease. I smiled. It had been
over a week since I’d smiled, and it felt as if I’d been set free
for that single moment. This was always how I imagined it would be
like between us always.

I lowered my eyes to his cock again, and
then my mouth followed.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

I licked the tip and tasted a sweet
saltiness that lingered on my tongue. Slowly, I took him in further
and further until I couldn’t anymore. My hand caressed his balls
the same time as I sucked, soft then harder and harder, moving up
and down, his cock pulsating in my mouth with each stroke.

“Jesus, Eme.” His fingers curled in my hair,
and he urged me faster.

He was arching off the bed to meet me, and a
few times he pushed too far, and I gagged, and he immediately
pulled back.

I teased him with my tongue, my lips, and
then I gripped the base of him tight until he was swearing and
groaning. Suddenly I was being pulled up on top of him, my face
inches away from his.

“Are you going to fuck me now? Because I’m
not lasting much longer.”

“Yes.”

“Then put me inside you.”

I felt his cock between my legs throbbing,
and I lifted up, took hold of it then slid it up and down my
entrance, my wetness clinging to the tip of it.

“Now.”

I let his cock go, and his breath hitched as
his eyes widened with surprise. Then he frowned, and he got that
scary look. For a second I let the fear in, and then I licked my
lips, sat up straight, and put my head back, closing my eyes.

“Play with your nipples.”

My eyes flew open and a tweak hit my belly
at his words. I slowly slid my hands up my body to my breasts. When
I started playing with my nipples the desire in his eyes
intensified.

“Oh fuck.” His entire body stiffened beneath
me, and I didn’t have to look at him to know what I was doing to
him. And damn, it felt good. I still liked when he took control,
but being where we were, and after giving all my control over to
him, and knowing what this place stood for ... Well, having him
succumb to me made me feel strong again.

I pinched my nipples hard and then reached
down, grabbing his hands and putting them over top of my breasts.
“Touch me, Logan. I need you to touch me.”

And he did. There were no more games as both
of us lost ourselves to the desire. Panting with the need for
possession. He sat up, taking me with him, then his head lowered
and he suckled my nipples, rolling his tongue over the tender
surface.

“Now, Emily.”

I wanted to tell him to wait, but the truth
was I couldn’t. I put my hand between us, took his cock, and guided
it inside me. I threw back my head, and he groaned as I pushed him
deep, and he fell back against the mattress.

I started moving, and he reached between my
legs and circled my clit sending my body into a whirlwind of aching
yearning that was climbing higher and higher with each stroke.

“Logan.” I placed my hands on his chest and
pushed harder and faster, my limbs shaking and stiffening.

“Fuck. Now.”

“Wait.” I demanded, and his fingers lost
rhythm on my clit for a second at my words.

He made a low growling sound in the back of
his throat, and then his hips were pushing up, matching mine as he
drove inside of me.

I yelled, “Now!”

Logan threw me over onto my back in one
motion and then thrust into me several more times—hard.
Relentless.

I came hard. Long. And I screamed as I did
it.

He was completely still, the veins in his
neck throbbing, his cock jerking inside me as he finished
coming.

When our eyes met we both knew that tonight
was something more than either of us had expected. It was cathartic
and powerful. Logan had given me control in a place where I had
none. He’d given me the option to say no. He’d given me my dignity
back.

He leaned down, and then he was kissing me
soft and gentle; it was beautiful, and it was a kiss that had me
sighing as he roamed over my mouth lazily.

Logan slipped out of me then went to the
washroom where I heard the tap running. When he came back to bed,
he instantly pulled me into his side then kissed the top of my
head.

He never said anything, and neither did I.
We’d always been good with quiet moments, as if we both knew words
would only ruin the beauty in the silence.

It was only when I was drifting off when I
thought I heard him say, “Dream sweet, Emily.”

Day 10

“
You
interrupted me.” His voice was steady and clear. “You spoke without
being asked.” His voice rose. “And you fuckin’ called me Logan.” He
was pacing back and forth across the room.
“Fuck.”

I’d been
kneeling beside the table in the main dining room. Dave had been
there as had Raul. They chatted about the upcoming fight while I
knelt for an hour on cold stone tiles beside Logan’s chair and was
fed from his fingers.

I had to go
pee, and I’d made the mistake of calling him Logan. I’d never seen
him so angry. His entire body went from relaxed and casual to rigid
and dangerous within seconds.

Raul and Dave
were silent as Logan turned to look down at me like I was some dog
that just bit his ankle. His eyes ... God, they’d been intense, and
yes, I was scared because of what I’d done. But it was a mistake,
Logan had to have seen that.

He’d shoved
back his chair so violently that it fell over backward, then he
grabbed me by the arm, and before I could even gain my footing he
was dragging me out of the dining room.

He didn’t stop
until we were back at his room, where we were now.

Before last
night I’d been a dying flower. Pieces of me falling to the ground,
shriveling up and disintegrating day after day. I was surviving,
but barely. I’d been losing the part of myself that thrived in the
sun, the lightness that came with living. But then last night,
Logan awoke the woman I used to be and gave me what I had starving
for.

I thought
things may have changed between us.

I was wrong
... The coldness had descended over him locking out everything we’d
shared.

It was
devastating.

And it was
cruel.

“Emily.”

I jumped at
his sharp tone. “Yes. Master.” I avoided his eyes, lowering my
head. There wasn’t a fight left in me. He’d taken away that trickle
of hope with how he reacted in the dining hall. Did he do this to
me on purpose? Maybe that was why he held me in his arms, brought
my body alive at night ... So he could break me down in the
morning, destroy me over and over again. So I could hate myself
more than him.

His footsteps
approached, and I stiffened, uncertain what he’d do, yet hoping
he’d never physically hurt me. He’d awaken my body to his touch,
but never once had he harmed me. But he let others hurt me, hadn’t
he? He watched them. Did he get off on that? Had he enjoyed
watching Alfonzo whip me?

It was his
quiet sigh that caused me to swallow my fear. His finger touched
beneath my chin, and he raised my head. He was inches away from me,
and I tried to stop feeling. I tried so hard, but I failed.

“Emily.”

My heart
crashed, because the way he said my name made the fear
heighten.

“Don’t do it
again.” He watched me for several seconds, then turned and walked
out, slamming the door behind him. I collapsed onto the bed and
cried.

It was dark by
the time he returned, and I was brushing my hair after my shower
while I looked out the window seeing nothing but imagining
everything. As the door shut and locked behind him I turned and
knelt on the floor, the brush laying forgotten beside me.

The
floorboards creaked as he walked toward me then stopped.

I held my
breath.

He reached
down and drew me up in front of him then lowered his head. My heart
skipped a beat, the pit of my stomach dropped, and my breath seized
all at the same time.

His lips
descended, soft and tender, as he slid his tongue inside my mouth.
His arms encased me in his embrace, the hold on my body fierce and
unrelenting, unlike his kiss that was sweet, gentle.

I
tilt
ed my head back, and
he deepened the kiss groaning.

He nipped my
lower lip then picked me up in his arms with one swoop and carried
me to the bed. Without letting me go, he lowered me onto it then
followed, his weight lying on top of me.

“You’re mine.
You’ll always be mine.”

I was in a
way. I belonged to him. I had sex with him. And at night I loved
him, but with the rise of the morning sun came the hate for the man
who was doing this to me.

“Do you want
this?”

Was I weak
because I craved his affection? Wanted to be stroked and caressed
and loved by this man so badly that I felt dead inside without him?
Did it make me pathetic?

“Emily.”

I closed my
eyes and whispered, “Yes.”

He gently
dragged my nightgown up and over my head; then his eyes roamed down
my body, and it felt as if the tips of his fingers were trailing
across my skin. I’d never thought myself pretty or attractive,
merely plain and average. My mother called me “a waste of space.”
But when Logan looked at me, it made me feel beautiful, and I never
wanted it to end.

“Hands above
your head.”

I listened,
wrapping my hands around the edge of the headboard.

I knew this is
what he liked—complete submission—and it was maddening, because it
turned me on. I liked it. I didn’t even try to understand it.

I heard the
sound of his zipper and then the rustling of fabric as he took off
his clothes.

“Legs,” he
ordered.

I opened my
legs.

He pulled them
further apart and settled between them. He groaned as his fingers
caressed my breasts then my nipples, hard, and yet, Logan had this
sweetness in him. It existed; I knew it did. It couldn’t just be my
imagination.

“Not tonight.
Not any night. Never call me Logan again.”

I wasn’t
stupid. I knew I’d made a mistake. I had hoped that maybe Logan was
protecting me against Raul. He’d blindfolded me when Raul had come
to the room that one time. Could Logan have suspected I’d crack and
fight if I’d been able to see Raul’s face? Maybe that was why he
dragged me out of the dining hall so fast. Or maybe I was just
being absurd wanting Logan to care about me.

Then he kissed
me, and the Lego blocks in my mind crumbled.

Logan’s kiss
grew stronger as I submitted to him. I didn’t fight. No, I wanted
to feel alive again even if it was wrong. Was it strength to submit
to him because I wanted to? I was fighting for salvation, and if
Logan gave me that then I won.

His fingers
entered me, and I moaned. “Emily. You’re my everything.”

He drove his
fingers in and out, his teeth grazing across my neck then to my
nipples. He suckled and played with them then bit down, and I cried
out with pain, and my hands let go of the headboard.

“Don’t move.”
His voice was demanding, and I knew not to disobey, but I also
heard a hint of sweet in his voice.

I put my hands
back.

Logan bit me
again, and this time I let the feelings flow across my body without
moving. It was pain, and then pleasure came right after. It fed me.
It gave me what I needed, and I awakened to him.