My breath hitched, and I pulled back.
“I’m going to tie you up.”
Again my breath hitched, but because I remembered the last time I was tied up and left alone for hours.
I was still shaking my head no when he tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed the tip of my nose. “You trust me?”
I did. Despite what happened, I knew everything he’d done was to protect me. “Yes,” I whispered.
“This isn’t about being helpless. Or me dictating or controlling. It’s about you trusting me to give you what your body needs. It’s knowing I’ll always take care of you.”
I nodded, still hesitant at the thought of ropes around me. It made me nervous and unsure of myself, and yet, I wanted to trust him.
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
I nodded, and then he let me go, and I was walking away, my heart slamming against my ribs. Fear or excitement tap danced through me. There was a fine line between the two.
By the time Logan came into the room, my limbs were trembling so badly the bed was shaking.
His eyes traveled down my naked body then back up. His expression to others would look cold, dark, maybe even stiff, but what I saw was deeper, and it was awe. It was what kept me on my back and not running for my life. He looked so floored at the sight before him, and all my confidence skyrocketed, because I could do this to him.
He kicked the door shut, and the loud noise made me jump, but I kept in the position he’d asked of me.
“Emily.” His eyes were on my pussy that I swear was leaking wetness down the inside of my thighs having him stare at me like that. “Jesus.” His eyes came to mine. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Logan.” I wanted him to stop standing there and come to me, but he was taking his time, just admiring the sight, and it made me hotter, and I was shifting uneasily as my need heightened. “Please.”
Logan walked over to the dresser by the far wall, and opened the lower drawer. I heard him shuffling around and then he stood up straight with a black silk scarf in his hands. My chest started heaving.
The bed dipped.
He knelt near my head, the silk falling over his wrist as he reached for my hands. I jerked away, and he frowned. “You’re safe, baby.”
I nodded, but the thought of being tied up again and unable to get away sent my stomach churning.
He let the scarf fall to lie over my wrists then cupped my chin and turned my head to look at him instead of at the scarf. “You can always say no. One word and it stops. I think you need this. We need it. I want your trust, and to get that we have to work through what happened. Change what you’re feeling to something beautiful.”
“I have,” I breathed, and it was a lie.
“No, baby. You haven’t. I saw your face when I mentioned tying you up.” Logan leaned forward and kissed me. “You’re not ready, we’ll wait.”
He left the bed taking the scarf with him. The drawer opened, and the disappointment I felt was overwhelming. I did want this. I wanted him to have control. I needed to let go—completely. I wanted to wash away the bad memories with good ones, and Logan could do that.
“Okay.”
Logan turned.
“Please. I want to. I trust you, Logan.”
He walked back over to me and slid the silk over my wrists. I felt the desire swim through me to replace the fear. The smooth material caressed my skin like the tip of a feather as he glided it up each arm and then down again. It wasn’t rough and chafing, but soft and cool to my heated flesh.
He slowly wrapped the silk around my wrists above my head, but he didn’t tie them to the bed rungs like I thought he’d do. “You’re not ready for that. Another time.”
I was. I wanted whatever he wanted from me.
He stroked the side of my face. “I want you to submit and give all of yourself to me. Fear isn’t part of that.”
He slipped off the bed then began to undress, and I watched, aching to touch myself as each piece of clothing fell to the floor. Then he crawled up from the bottom of the bed, so his head was between my legs.
I was gripping the bed post so tight I heard it creak with my movements. I was arching toward him, wanting him to lick me, give me what I hungered for. What I needed.
“Stay still.” He ordered, and at the sound of his deep, resonate voice a wave of desire shot through me. He leaned closer, and I could feel his breath on my pussy, scorching heat blazing so hot that I was ready to scream at him to just touch me. I knew my sweet torture would last longer though.
“You’re swollen and glistening. God, Emily. You’re mine. This pussy is mine. Nothing touches it but me.”
“Honey. Please.” My knees were trembling so badly that he had to steady them with his hands around my ankles.
Then he spread my lips apart, and his tongue touched me. I moaned, sinking further into the bed as he began suckling deep and hard, then soft and sweet. Dragging my wetness upward with his tongue, and then swirling over me, he had my entire body arching to meet him.
Unable to touch, my hands were tied together, and Logan had complete control over my body; it was a release of pure ecstasy. A giving of myself to him, trusting him to do what I needed, what my body desired.
I was near exploding as two fingers drove inside me at the same time as he sucked hard on my clit. I screamed, arching, and he put his other hand on my stomach to keep me in place. He pulled his head back.
I moaned. “Oh God, Logan. Please.”
“Not yet. You will wait, Emily. Every time, unless I tell you otherwise.” Then he turned around and lay on his side beside me, his cock inches from my mouth, so close I could’ve swept my tongue out and touched it. I wanted to, God, I wanted to taste it.