by Madeline Fay
The shower is calling my name, with blood and dirt covering me with layers that even the rain couldn’t wash away, so it would probably be best if I clean up before heading downstairs with a fake smile.
Opening the door opposite of the closet reveals the bathroom, this is what dreams are made of. Glossy, black marble floor, a huge tub to fit at least five people, a standing walk-in shower with multiple shower heads, and floor to ceiling tinted windows that overlooks the lush acres of green grass. I’ve never seen grass that green and once again the wonders of having money blow my mind. That has to be extremely expensive especially living in California.
What the hell did I walk into? A closed door across the bathroom has a lock, I quickly snap it into place because I’m pretty sure this is a Jack and Jill bathroom but I’m not taking the chance of Satan walking in on me naked.
My face in the mirror makes me gasp out loud, the way I look right now makes me question if the people living in this house are butt ass crazy. I really do look like a drowned rat with my hair knotted and sticking up in every direction, my clothes wrinkled and sticking to my body like a dirty second skin. Clothes fly across the room as I struggle to get out of them in a fight to the death. Breathing heavily from my struggle, I twist the knob for the water to be so scolding hot that it feels like the Devil is licking my skin with his hot tongue.
I will not think of that hothole Logan licking me. The last thing I need in my life is a man controlling me. That man had a possessive gleam in his gaze last night that didn’t frighten me. It made me burn. Seeing his honeycomb eyes filled with enough shadows like my own, it called to me, sucked me right in and I let it take hold without the thought of it hurting. Maybe I’ve been through so much that I’m finally taking the leap to live even when it feels like I’m going to have a heart attack.
Stepping under the hot spray eases my shoulders and melts me on the spot from all the showerheads beating down on me, washing away my past one step at a time. I wonder what it was like growing up like this, not having to worry about if you’ll make it to eighteen or eventually being forced to live on the streets.
I reach for the shampoo on the built-in shelves since I don’t have any in my duffle bag, the smell drawing me in. It reminds me of breathing in a forest for the first time, pine trees with that fresh smell only nature can bring. A smile easily spreads across my face as I lather my hair with my eyes closed and tilt my head back to rinse off. I freeze with my hands threaded in my hair when the shower stall door silently opens, my eyes popping open in shock as Logan steps under the spray opposite of me. He just stares with those intense, honey eyes and leans around me to grab the body wash without looking away from my widening eyes.
I can’t move, hardly breathe. I’ve never been this exposed in front of a man without him wanting something from me or just taking it, but Logan just stands there watching me like it’s no big deal we are showering together as he washes his body. The suds trail down his olive tone skin, making my pulse pound away as he rinses off under the spray. It’s at that moment I realize my hands are still in my hair, back arched and my breasts thrust out. Quickly dropping my arms, I cross them over my chest and start backing away.
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Are you afraid of me? Nothing I haven’t seen before.” He smirks as he looks me up and down as if he finds me lacking.
My tattoos make me self conscious under his stare with my scars that are somewhat hidden behind the ink. My legs and arms are ink free but most of my back is covered, trailing its way around to my front to cover the knife wounds that were carved into my skin like an oil painting. My ribs are cursive designs of quotes and images that remind me of finding peace one day. Ride or die is scarred into my skin just below my right breast in cursive while the rest is swirling ivy vines displayed with butterflies and flowers that always captured my attention when I saw them in magazines. His eyes linger on them now, drawn back to them again and again with a sneer on his face that highlights his sharp cheekbones. He makes that disgusted face towards me look good.
I hate him already.
He smooths the curls on top of his head back, making his hair appear a dark brown as it’s slicked out of his face, and droplets of water cling to his long lashes as he stares down at me. I can’t help looking as his biceps flex, my eyes are drawn to his sculpted body of tight muscles. I’ve never seen a man so absolutely… strong and hard edges. Capable with lean but big hands, muscles that shift and strain each time he moves. His hand smooths down his chest as he continues watching me, moving down to wash his cut abs in slow movements that draw my gaze, just like he wanted. I can’t help eating him up which surprises me because honestly, I thought I was dead inside, that I would never be able to feel anything, but right now, by the swollen, needy feeling between my legs… I like what I see, a lot.
Those strong hands lead further down past his hips that form a perfect V, and down to a cock that makes me swallow hard. I can’t tell if I’m frightened or in awe because even his cock is perfect. Long, and thick with a slight curve that it almost scares me because that thing would wreck my insides from the angle and depth but it makes me rub my thighs together the longer I stare. Right about now is when I usually go into defense mood, blacking out eventually as he has his way with me and panic sets in but no more. I’m done being used, abused by men, it’s time I start fighting back because what else is there to live for if you're really not living?
His chuckle helps me look away quickly, blood rushing to my cheeks and pissing me the fuck off. He doesn’t have to do anything but stand there looking like God created him slowly, taking his time to make sure each part of him was made to cause pleasure. He’s going to make my life a living hell, I don’t need a man. All they’ve ever done is cause me pain, he can’t be any different.
“I’m not afraid of you. Oh, honey, didn’t you know?” I ask seductively, making sure my voice is raspy to lure him in just like I was taught to capture a man’s attention.
He tilts his head in confusion, his eyes darkening with lust as I step back into the water and grab the body wash from him to leisurely wash my body without a care in the world. Little does he know how fast my heart is beating and my legs wanting to collapse underneath me in fear. I don’t get the feeling, he wants to hurt me physically but more mentally. Don’t get me wrong, the vibes he’s throwing at me scream dangerous but oddly I’m not running.
“Know what?” He asks in a distracted, husky voice, he can’t keep his eyes off me even if he tried.
My hands move down my neck with the water flowing over me, trailing slowly down to my collar bone and pausing for a heartbeat in dangerous excitement before gliding the fingertips of my hands down to my breasts with each shallow breath. I like this, making him want me when clearly he’s fighting it.
I’m. In. Control.
I hold his stare when his molten honeycomb eyes flicker up to mine, the pupils expanding until I’m falling into them. A moan vibrates around the shower, making me realize it’s my own mouth opening, releasing those noises the longer I rub in circles around my areola until my nipples harden under his heated but pissed off gaze.
It’s exhilarating, playing with fire and almost hoping to get burned.
Peeking up at him from under my lashes, I bite my lip to stifle my moan because it’s obvious he likes what he sees and hears but hates how it’s affecting him at the same time. With his nostrils flaring, his fists opening and closing, it tells me enough how bad he wants me. I don’t stop touching myself, he wants me, and I’m definitely playing with fire; when will he burn for me as much as I am for him? It’s empowering and makes me feel like I have control of something I’ve never had before… I’m fucking horny, starving to be cherished. Pure, mutual lust that we are both fighting against even when our bodies sway towards each other.
I can only hear the water pelting the tilted floor and our heavy breathing filling the steamed shower, making it appear as if the outside world doesn’t exist. Maybe he’ll pretend a little
bit more with me so the darkness stays away until I’m spinning in circles and he grounds me into reality.
“Know that you haven’t seen anyone like me before.” It’s my turn to smirk as I finally respond back to him, turning the tables as I spin around to wash off, giving him a view of my messed up back.
Dismissing him without a care that I know will piss him off because he commands attention just by walking into a room. I’ll just keep acting like this is normal and I shower in front of men all the time.
Am I prepared for his next actions? Fuck no. I’m completely caught off guard and hardly know myself, I secretly love every dirty second. This is what desire should feel like, of wanting something so bad that you’ll drop to your knees and beg to keep feeling it.
A deep growl of pure male lust and anger kisses down my spine just before his scalding, hot body is plastered against my back as he grips a fist full of my wet hair and tips my head back until I’m looking up at his tense face upside down.
“You may be right, baby girl, but this is my house, my rules, and I don’t fuck around. I don’t trust you and just know I’ll be watching every move you make. Every breath that escapes your sexy lips, every mutter under your breath while you're sleeping, I’ll be there to listen; which is kind of cute when you talk in your sleep by the way.” His smirk is anything but teasing.
He wants me to know that he can get into my room without even trying and he was watching me sleep last night.
This fucker must have watched my pathetic ass sleep against the bedroom door and he probably laughed because I was stupid to not even think about the joining bathroom access into my guest room.
"You tease the beast and he comes back biting, baby girl." His voice is a seductive whisper along the curve of my jaw, pulling me in closer under his spell.
His mouth swallows my gasp of outrage before I can tell him off but it’s forgotten as I get a taste of intoxicated sin that surprisingly tastes like dark chocolate. Something that makes you take your time to savor the flavor, devouring more because you know it’s not the worst thing but still not the healthiest for you. His tongue sweeps in, gliding against mine with a smoothness that has me reaching, arching my spine to tangle my hand in his curly hair and dragging him closer against my back. I can feel his hard cock digging into my lower back, leaving me breathless. A chill sweeps up my spine, for once not from being scared but turned the fuck on.
He breaks away, his chest heaving as he stares down at me without saying anything for a split second, watching for something that I’m not quite sure what he’s looking for but my body knows. His lips curl in a snarl just as he trails his other hand down my spine, stopping just above my ass before applying slight pressure.
“Bend the fuck over,” he commands, his voice gravelly and deep that shoots straight to my pussy, making me squeeze my eyes shut as something blossoms tightly in my lower stomach like a wonderful drug that makes heat spread through me.
My eyes snap back open when I feel his hard cock, long and thick pulse against the curve of my ass as he bends down slightly. Freaking hell, this is probably going to hurt but I want it. I’m going to dissolve into hot, molten lava if he doesn’t do anything soon. The edge of my mind yells at me to run until my feet hit the ocean, and keep going until only my head is above the surface.
He just continues to stare, waiting, giving me a way out of this but... I. Need. This.
It’s crazy, wild, and something I’ve never had, it’s all in the palm of my hands.
I release my hands from his hair, reaching in front of me to place the palms of my hands on the cold tile, I slowly bend over without looking away from him over my shoulder. His fingers tangle deeply into my hair, sliding through my strands slowly before holding tight in a firm grip as he pulls until my head is tilted back and my back arches under the pressure. I can’t move without it stinging. His other hand slides over my wet skin, tracing my tattoo of a fairy with huge wings on my back, leaving behind a trail of heat that causes goosebumps to break out and my breathing picks up in rushed excitement. I don’t know what I’m doing but the need is too great. It’s everything.
“Now what?” My voice is barely recognizable, raspy, and needy.
A dark eyebrow arches like he’s confused, my own arching in response like I know what I’m talking about. His gaze trails over my body as he hums in the back of his throat in pleasure, as if he likes what he sees even though I know he’d rather not show it.
It’s funny, I don’t know Logan. Not for even one day but my body feels like I’ve known him for forever, that he can play me like a violin even when my chords are broken.
“Now I’m going to ruin you, damage you inside and out until all you know is the shape of my cock and only mine.” He states matter of factly, looking down at me just as he lines his cock at my pussy entrance and plunges in without warning.
A startled gasp leaves my mouth as I brace myself more firmly against the wall, my heels leaving the shower floor as he bottoms out, his dick stretching me past its limits and my pussy flooding with wetness. In and out, he moves slowly, letting me get used to his big cock until my moan bounces off the walls.
“You’re so tight, baby girl. Like you were made for my cock. I’m going to rearrange your insides, pushing my cock until you feel me for days after,” he whispers in my ear. Pulling my head back further, he kisses me deeply upside down, as if he is sealing everything. “Are you ready for more?” He mutters against my lips, leaving an inch of space between us as he slides his cock out until he’s right at my opening before sliding back inside just as unhurried.
He makes me feel every glide, my pussy juices drip down my thigh, and I should be embarrassed but it feels too damn good as I clench around him with small spasms that leave my legs shaking and feeling weak in the knees.
“M-more?” I breathe out, gasping loudly and his lips spread into a lopsided smirk against mine just before he crosses his one arm between my breasts and his strong fingers wrap around my throat, lifting me until my back is plastered to his chest, straining in his hold.
Fingers leave my hair, sliding so slowly down my body until stopping at my hip bone and gliding across my sensitive skin downward in a feather light touch until he applies pressure just above my pubic bone. My eyes roll into the back of my head the moment he drags his hips away and only slamming back inside in a powerful thrust that jolts me forward. The feeling of him deeper overwhelms me and causes me to shove my ass back against him with a silent plea for more.
“Give me more, I can take it. I want it,” I moan loudly, unable to help myself.
He doesn’t waste meeting my demand as he continues thrusting in and out like his life depends on it. His strong fingers clasp around my throat, tightening until each breath is a struggle but I love it as I push my ass back faster to meet him thrust for hard thrust because I’m racing towards something that has my pussy clamping down on him with liquid heat pulsing through me.
His groan is loud and drawn out, he’s just as affected, loving every second. The sharp sting against my ass surprises me, leaving me tense for a split second until I realize how good it feels. The noise gets louder and louder with each quick slap against my ass cheeks making my skin red, and my breath short from his hand gripping around my windpipe. But my body likes it, my wet pussy coating him, and making it easier to fuck me into next week. For a split second my eyes close, only darkness surrounding me in a place that haunts me every waking second, bringing back a past that’s trying to break through until his voice drags me to the surface with a desperate gasp leaving my mouth wide open as if I’m drowning.
“Tell me you’re mine. That you're my slut and this pussy is only mine to destroy,” he demands in a deep voice. One hand sliding around to my front and circling my clit in fast movements with his fingertip just as his other hand tightens enough to cut off my air supply with his arm still holding me up, my toes barely graze the tiled floor.
“Your slut,” I manage to breathe out with a choked g
asp, my vision blurring as he really fucks me with hard, rough movements, his cock dragging along something inside me that has my stomach clenching and my pussy fluttering around him in endless spasms of cruel pleasure.
I only say it's cruel because I didn't know it could be this way. It's an out of body experience, someone else taking control of my body and making me feel everything all at once. It doesn’t cause me to drift away into another place and time, just the here and now of ecstasy.
"Now be a good girl and fucking come," he whispers low in my ear just like the devil, pounding so hard into me that it sets my body off and he releases my neck at the same time but I hardly notice as my whole body shakes, an orgasm tearing through me.
"Fuck. Did you just squirt?" He groans in lustful agony and pulls out of me in a flash to drop his hold on me, spinning my body around to face him in seconds flat.
His chest is heaving up and down rapidly like he just ran a mile, staring with dilated pupils, all I can see is black in his gaze. It lets me know that he wants me with a passion that could set the world on fire and rain couldn't put us out.
Who is Logan? The man holding me up right now as I try to catch my breath and focus my world back as it just reached fucking heaven. I just had an orgasm that burst from me, coating his dick as my body jerked against him as I kept coming and coming. Yeah, I fucking squirted, I didn't even know that was possible. I thought it was made up because the sweetbutts used to gossip back in the club that it was for fairytales unless you found a real man. Guess it just took the right guy.
