“Stay relaxed,” he says, slowly pulling his fingers out and gripping himself by the root. He eases the tip of his cock upward until it presses the tight ring of my ass.
I feel myself clench again, stiffening.
“Relax,” he says, more forceful this time.
I close my eyes, picturing myself straightening racks full of baby clothes I designed in my own brick and mortar store. A faint smile pulls at my lips and my body starts to relax.
I hear the bottle he holds click open and there’s a pause as he rubs what must be more lube on his cock. He chucks the bottle to the ground and lines up again, easing himself into me. There’s a brief stab of pain and a strange, uncomfortable sensation as I feel my ass stretching to fit him. Once he’s pushed himself past that point, my muscles start to get used to the feeling, and I even start to feel a pleasant sensation.
“Fuck. You’re ass is so fucking tight.”
“Oh God,” I say, gasping and squeezing my eyes shut as he begins to increase his pace. I’m shocked at how good it feels, and when his free hand plunges into my pussy with three fingers, the pleasure practically explodes. The sensation of being filled in both holes is indescribably good, and beyond that is the enjoyment of knowing he’s taking me where no man has ever dared to before him. He’s marking me in a way that can never be undone, and I don’t want him to stop.
“I’m going to cum in your fucking ass,” he growls.
“I want it,” I gasp, digging my heels into his back and pushing into him as much as I can in my position.
He thrusts into me hard, making the bindings clatter and shake with the force of his thrust. I grip my legs around him, pussy clenching around his fingers as his cock stretches my tight ring. He increases his pace until it’s punishing. Each thrust sends me bouncing backwards, only to slide back into his relentlessly pumping cock and fingers. My world is a blur of sensation and bliss. My mouth is opened in a permanent, silent gasp. The pleasure is too intense to even moan, all I can do is hold on tight and ride the wave.
It’s not long before I can’t hold back my climax anymore. It pours out of me with the force of an explosion. I let my head fall back, neck bent and exposed as I gasp in shallow breath after shallow breath. Ecstasy tears through me with blinding force, washing away all my doubt and worries.
Logan breathes out hard and pulls back, stroking himself as he sprays ropes of hot cum across my thighs, my mound, and my stomach. Just the contact of his cum with my skin sends my orgasm into overdrive, and I have to grip the ropes holding me to the ceiling for support while my body shakes and quivers.
“Oh my God,” I gasp finally.
Logan smirks, blowing out a puff of air that knocks a loose strand of his hair out of his face. “You were amazing,” he says, reaching to undo the straps holding my legs. He eases me down carefully once my legs are free. Once he frees my arms, I feel suddenly unsure of what he expects. I’m standing naked beside him, body still covered in his cum.
He answers my question by picking me up as if I weighed nothing and carrying me to his bedroom. I’m grateful too, because I don’t know if I could walk after being fucked like that. He helps me into the shower. He presses a button on the wall outside the huge shower and jets of steaming water pour from four showerheads. I feel a slight pain in my ass, but it’s mild. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy it for the next few days because it will be a reminder of how my dom enjoyed and used me.
“Nice shower,” I say to fill the silence that has stretched between us.
He smirks, taking my hand and helping me to step in. He moves me until I stand in the center of the four streams of water. It feels amazing. Hot water patters against me from every direction, and the rising steam bathes me in a purifying mist. Through the cloud of white vapor, I can see Logan’s dark outline and the hint of how hungrily he watches me. It makes me feel good to be desired so powerfully. I don’t feel any of my normal insecurities about how the gap between my thighs isn’t big enough, or the patch of skin that shows cellulite in the wrong light that marks my legs. None of my normal shortcomings seem important when I’m with Logan. It’s as if noticing such small imperfections is beneath him. He seems to crave me just as I am, and that knowledge is incredibly empowering.
I just wonder if he’ll feel the same way outside the bedroom. Or outside the playroom, I guess I should say.
Logan moves behind me and gently tilts my head back so my hair gets caught in one of the streams of water. He runs his hand across my scalp, working the water deep into my hair. He grabs a bottle from a marble shelf and flicks the cap up with one hand, squeezing some of the gel out and rubbing it into my hair. The shampoo froths in my hair quickly and an amazing scent fills the shower. I lose myself in the way his strong fingers feel threading through my hair, pulling the shampoo through every last strand carefully. When I sneak a look at his face, he looks absolutely absorbed in his task, as if he’s enjoying it as much as I am.
I smile, biting my lip. “Mmmm. That feels so good.”
He chuckles deeply, tilting my head back again to rinse the shampoo from my hair. He grabs conditioner next and works it into my hair. I’m surprised when the conditioner makes my scalp sting slightly, almost as if there was alcohol in it. It’s not a bad feeling though, and the initial burn is quickly replaced by an icy coldness, making me feel like my hair is more clean than it has ever been. When he washes the conditioner free, the intensity of the cold dulls until it’s just a pleasant tingle across my scalp.
He grabs a bar of soap next and works up a lather in his hands, eyeing me purposefully. “You got a little dirty in there, Kitten. I think I should clean you up.”
I grin. “You did make the mess.”
He chuckles. “Fair point.”
He starts at my collarbones, rubbing the soap carefully into my skin, eyes following his movements as if he’s transfixed. His hands rub circles of soap up from my collar bones to my shoulders and then they drift down, leaving trails of suds until he finds my breasts. He pauses long enough to get more soap, and then dives back into soaping my breasts. I blush when he makes it very clear his goal isn’t only to clean me, because he spends way more time than necessary massaging the soap into my chest, fingers dragging tantalizing paths of pleasure across my erect nipples.
His cock is fully hard again, and I can’t stop eating him up with my eyes from head to toe. My ass may still feel used and my body weak, but I still want more, except… I don’t know if he’s planning to have sex with me as my dom right now. The thought settles in my mind like poison, spreading through my body and dampening my arousal until it’s just a small ember. I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter, but it’s too late for that. I can already feel the old, familiar numbness settling in.
He eventually soaps the rest of my body, tickling me when his thumb plunges in my belly button and then silencing my giggles when he finds my mound and spends an excruciatingly long time cleaning my pussy and ass. Even though the way he’s touching me should have me gasping out of control, I have to force myself to increase my breathing. It feels wrong. Off. He hasn’t stripped control from me.
His hands start to move faster, and he starts to walk me toward the back wall, pressing my back into the slightly cold tiles. My chest heaves as he kisses my neck and mouth, then bends to suck my nipples hard enough to make me gasp. He straightens and lifts me by the thighs, guiding his cock into me. I’m still wet enough from before that his cock slides right in.
But as he starts to thrust into me almost tenderly, kissing my neck and breathing heavily, I feel a sense of panic build. It’s happening again. It’s like with all the men before. He’s trying to fuck me without any of the domination or submission and I don’t know if I’ll be able to cum like this. Yes, he’s the most breathtaking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Yes, his cock is ridiculously perfect and I can feel it stretching my walls and reaching deeper inside me than I could imagine. But something isn’t right.
I wrap my arms around his
neck, eyes open and face a mask as his breathing intensifies. I realize I’m going to have to pretend to cum, so I start making myself breathe heavier, moaning over his shoulder. I can see my blurry reflection in the mirror at the other end of the bathroom and the way my eyes look dead as I moan, the way my legs are wrapped behind his chiseled back, bouncing slightly with every thrust.
He groans, filling my pussy with cum, and I raise the pitch of my moans, doing my best to give the impression that I just came too. Logan slowly eases me down, smiling as he soaps his hands again and sets to cleaning my pussy.
“Is everything okay?” he asks after a few seconds.
“Yes. It’s perfect,” I say, hoping he doesn’t catch the note of strain in my voice.
17
Logan
I wipe sweat from my eyes and sink down on the bench beside Olivia. She’s sweating too, but smiling like an idiot as she drops her racquet and towels off.
“If you’re planning to brag, let’s just get it over with,” I say.
She gives me an innocent look and shrugs. “Beating you at tennis isn’t really worth bragging about anymore.”
I glare at her and toss a tennis ball at her leg, but she manages to swat it away, grinning.
“Sore loser, as always,” she says, tsking at me. “When am I going to meet this girl that has you blowing me off? I want to see her play.”
I purse my lips. “It’s complicated between us. And work has been an absolute nightmare lately. I lost half my investors and we’ve been organizing street teams to round up new small businesses. The tax implications alone are going to…” I trail off when I see Olivia pretending to sleep. Her head is thrown back dramatically and her mouth hangs open. “Boring. I know,” I say.
She pretends to wake up. “What? Were you talking about your company again? I must have dozed off.”
“Yeah, yeah. Maybe you should have gone into acting instead of tennis.”
“How complicated can it be between you two? I know you’re into all that weird stuff, but I mean, at the end of the day it’s probably just like any other relationship, except you like her to call you daddy while you guys fuck.”
I cringe. “You know I hate when you talk about it.”
She smirks. “I know. That’s why I still do it. Seriously though, how complicated can it be?”
I lean back, tapping my racquet against my knee. “Apparently it can be pretty complicated. The ‘weird stuff’ is all new to her, and she’s having trouble drawing a line between the fantasy and reality.”
Olivia looks thoughtful. “Oh. That actually does sound a little complicated. You mean she wants you to be her daddy in the bedroom but she’s having trouble staying interested in you outside the sex because you’re not really her daddy?”
I give Olivia a confused look. “What is all this daddy shit? No… Look, I’m not going to detail all this with you. I have no desire to know what kind of weird shit you’re into and I don’t--”
“Pegging,” Olivia deadpans.
I stare openly at her, feeling disgust and amazement.
She barks a laugh. “I’m just kidding. That’s sick. But yeah, you’re never going to learn what weird shit I’m into. I’m the only one in this pair who has to bear that mental poison.”
I sigh. “I can’t figure out if you’re trying to help right now or if you’re trying to irritate me.”
“I can’t do both?” she asks.
I laugh. “Good point. I guess you’re always doing a little bit of both.”
“Well,” she says. “I would think even if the sex is great, the relationship is doomed if you guys aren’t compatible outside of it.”
I run a hand through my hair. “When she lets her guard down, we get along better than I’ve ever gotten along with a woman, but she just puts these walls up sometimes. I don’t get it.”
“Welcome to women, Logan. I’m proud that you’re finally learning to accept you will never understand us.”
Emmaline is bent over at the foot of my bed. Her ass is red from the paddle. She was fifteen minutes late getting to my house, which has become a habit of hers. It has been almost two weeks since I strapped her to the ceiling and ass fucked her for the first time. We’ve been seeing each other regularly since then, but I’ve started to feel a growing rift between us. I’ve been pushing the thoughts down as much as I can, but I can’t help noticing how much more wild she is getting in her tastes. She seems to be deliberately disobeying me to get as much punishment as she can, and I’ve been relying on her to tell me when she’s reached her limit, but I’m starting to think she has no limit, like she wants to be hurt.
I’ve never gotten off on pain before. I only enjoy using pain as a counterpoint to enhance pleasure. Sadism was never my kink. Wanting pain for the sake of pain is what some people are into, and that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. What bothers me is Emmaline’s sexual needs are looking more like a drug addict who is chasing the first high. I don’t believe she’s really masochistic. I think she’s just trying to escalate the danger every time we’re together to get the same rush she felt the first time. I’m not willing to start bringing the pain to a point where I’m doing real damage, and she has brought us right to the cusp of that.
Our interactions outside the play room have been hard to read, to say the least. I’ve been with her at the club the last two weekends and at my place plenty of times, but our interactions outside the play room or the club are always cut short. I’d almost think she was making excuses to leave, and I have no idea why. I just want to find out what she needs and give it to her. I’ve tried vanilla sex with her a few times, thinking she might be craving some normalcy, but she has been slightly stiff and unresponsive every time I’ve tried.
It all has me frustrated, and when I bring the paddle down on her again I do it with more force than I intended. The blow makes her lurch forward and lose her balance, falling to her face.
I kneel quickly at her side. “Emmaline, are you--”
She pushes me off. “I was late, Sir. I need to be punished.” Her eyes are distant, focused on something beyond the wall ahead.
I stand, looking down at the paddle and the angry red spot on her milky skin. A wave of disgust overcomes me. I throw the paddle down. “We’re done for today.”
“What?” she asks, turning her head toward me, eyes wide.
“I said we’re done.”
“No,” she says. “Please. I haven’t been punished enough.”
“I’m your fucking dom,” I growl. The anger boiling up in me is from the frustration of not understanding. She’s not being open with me, and she’s turning what is supposed to be a mutually pleasurable experience into something darker and twisted because she won’t tell me what’s going on. “You don’t get to decide when the punishment is over.”
She lowers her head, sinking low on her knees almost like she’s bowing to me.
“Get up. I said we’re done.”
She stands, waiting to be told what to do. Her blind obedience grates on me. I want her to be open with me. I want her to be herself. The dominant submissive relationship never bothered me before, but I was with women I didn’t care as much about. And with Lana it was always a game, something we turned on and off at will. Now all I can see is this beautiful, ambitious young woman before me degrading herself. There is supposed to be a healthy line in this kind of relationship. She’s supposed to know what we do here has no bearing on who she is outside. She’s letting this become something more than just a fantasy. She’s using it to hide from something, and I’m done helping her do it. Whether she realizes it or not, she’s only going to exacerbate whatever problems she’s facing like this.
I strip the leather mask off and throw it to the floor. I grip her by the shoulders. “What’s going on?” I ask.
She keeps her eyes on the ground. “Nothing, Sir.”
“Logan,” I say. “Call me Logan.
“Nothing, Logan.”
My hand flashes out and I
only barely manage to stop myself from hitting her, not as her dom, and not for the sake of pleasure, but out of frustration. Fuck. I’ve never hit a woman, not outside of the roleplay, at least. I feel dirty and shitty immediately.
I feel worse when she doesn’t react. She just waits, expression blank like she would have deserved it if I hit her.
I clench my fists. “Emmaline...”
She looks up at me a little uncertainly. I see tears welling in her eyes and I reach out to rub them away with my thumb. She flinches slightly at my touch and it rips at my heart. I’m going to fix this. I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to make it all better. Somehow.
I sigh, leading her out of the play room and grabbing a robe for her to cover up her nudity. I sit her on the edge of my bed and sit beside her.
Fuck. Where did I go so wrong with her? I pull her close, hugging her as she cries into my arms. I felt like we were on the right path the night we watched the movie. It seemed like she was starting to let herself open up to me and she was going to try making things between us work both sexually and emotionally. After that night, everything between us just went off the rails. Hard.
Emmaline hangs her head, mumbling so quietly I can barely hear. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You could never disappoint me,” I whisper as I run a hand through her hair. “Never.”
I give her all the time she needs, holding her close and waiting until she feels ready. “I can only cum when I’m dominated,” she says quietly. “I don’t know why. I don’t have a good reason. I guess I’m just a dirty slut who--”
“Hey,” I say firmly, pulling back until I can look into her eyes. “Don’t talk like that. You’re not a slut. Every fucking person on this planet is in to something. If they say they aren’t, they’re fucking liars. Everyone has a kink, whether they know it or not.”
She nods and another wave of tears rolls from her eyes. I smooth them away, hating to see her cry. I feel like it’s opening a raw hole in my chest and I need to see her happy again or it’s going to rip me apart from the inside.
Bad for the Billionaires: A Bad Boy Billionaire Bundle Page 26
