“I’ve got you,” he laughs, swimming over to my side. “We’ll ride it together.”
I nod as he holds onto me from behind, his arms wrapped around my waist. I hold out my arms and tread water as the biggest swell yet comes.
“Swim towards it,” Logan says in my ear.
I do, and I feel like I’m flying with him so close. The swell comes and we rise so high, so high, it feels like breathing with the huge animal that is the ocean. And then down we come as the wave crashes down.
I laugh and spin in Logan’s arms.
I want to kiss him but I wouldn’t even begin to know how. So I hug him instead. “Thank you. Thank you, Logan. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
His arms come back around me, but only for a quick squeeze, lingering a moment before he pulls away.
I’m so caught up in him that I’m not watching the waves. I guess Logan isn’t either because all I hear is, “Oh shit!” before we’re suddenly doused by white-water.
It knocks us apart and I come up sputtering and laughing. Logan immediately swims back over to me once he surfaces. “Shit, Daph, are you okay? Shit, I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine,” I laugh, pushing my wet hair out of my face. “Now see if you can catch me.”
I start to swim away from him. He gives me a head start but then catches me in about three seconds anyway, and again, his amazing arms wrap around me.
Can I please stay in this ocean forever if it means he’ll keep touching me like this?
But he says it’s time for us to get out only fifteen minutes later, though I make him promise we’ll go for another swim before we leave.
All I know is I never want the day to end. I want a lifetime of days on the beach with Logan Wulfe.
Twelve
Present Day
Daphne
The next day, I knock softly at the oak paneled library door and wait. The light slanting in the hall is rich and bright. Late morning light. I slept until almost noon. But after last night, I needed it.
“Enter,” comes the gruff invitation. My heart flutters and I push open the heavy door.
I’m naked, as ordered by a note left on my bedside table. My legs are shaky and my clit is sore, but I feel light. It’s amazing to be able to wake up and have nothing to do but follow my Master’s commands. And last night purged me of something, a heavy weight I’d been carrying. My guilt? Any last barriers between the girl I used to be and the woman I’m becoming?
All I know is that I want Logan more than ever. I want this more than ever. I want the man who takes me to the heights of pleasure and beyond, who knows me better than any other and who I can trust to take me even higher, darker, deeper. He’ll never let me fall, and there’s such a freedom in that like I’ve never known.
My gaze is naturally lowered as I pad barefoot through the shelves of leather-bound tomes. Master sits in a giant red velvet chair by the fire, a plate full of pastries on the Corinthian column pedestal table beside him. But where there used to be a matching red velvet chair and side table for me, there’s only bare carpet.
Master snaps his fingers and points to a spot in front of him. That’s when I see it: the large red tasseled cushion on the floor.
He expects me to kneel at his feet, lounging on the floor like a pet. Fuck. Warmth blooms in my lower belly. I’m turned on.
Master’s face is cold and impassive, well, what I can see of it. He’s wearing the mask and otherwise, he might as well be carved from marble.
He expects me to put up a fuss. To fight. A test?
I brush the shimmering fall of my hair from my face and lower myself gracefully to the floor. Surprise flickers across his face as I arrange myself on the cushion. Lest he think I’m a perfectly docile and obedient submissive, I shoot him a challenge through my lashes and raise a brow.
Long fingers steepled in front of his face, the Beast regards me. I’m so fascinated by this side of him. Strong. Dominant. Unyielding. Hot as fuck.
Anything could happen next and the thrill lighting up my chest makes me feel so fucking alive, like there’s an undercurrent of electricity zinging through my bloodstream.
Still impassive, he breaks off a corner of a pastry. The almond and vanilla scent makes my stomach roar. A corner of the Beast’s mouth kicks up as he holds the sugar-dusted piece out to me.
But when I reach for it, he draws it back and tuts. Fuck. There’s that bloom of humiliation, spreading across my cheeks, warming my pussy. Why does this turn me on? Screw it. I don’t care why. I give into it.
Craning my neck, I open my mouth for the bite. The Beast places the pastry right in my mouth and taps my chin to signal his permission for me to eat. Blushing hot, I chew and swallow my breakfast, naked at Master’s feet.
“Well done, pet,” Master says, flicking crumbs off his fingers. Pet. My pussy clenches as he feeds me more bites. “You have a long way to go. But it’s a start.”
“So, I’m going to get clothes today?” I ask when my stomach is satisfied. I think I ask it more to challenge him than because I want them. It’s the devil inside me. The same one that made me buy that red bikini at the beach that day so long ago. I’ve missed her.
“What makes you think you’re entitled to them?”
“I thought I was earning back my company’s patents, not the right to basic human privileges.”
His fists clench when I mention the patents. “All your privileges will be earned. Remember, I control you. I own you.”
Sensation stirs in my lower belly, a ripple of desire. To hide my reaction, I look to the fire. “But—”
Logan captures my chin and turns me to face him. “Careful. I have a lovely ball gag you could wear.”
I wrinkle my nose. Would he really? Well, in for a patent, in for a pound. And anyway, if he did, would I…like it? The thing I’ve started to realize is that being submissive doesn’t mean being docile.
If anything, it’s allowing me to get in touch with my most base, animal self. If he gagged me, I’d snarl and roar and fight and he’d have to restrain me and maybe he’d clamp me again or do something else even more intense, maybe even pierce me, though I can’t imagine an orgasm any more intense than yesterday’s—
He chuckles, releasing me and distracting me from my tumultuous thoughts. “You think you have a choice. You have none. All your choices are mine.” He snaps his fingers again, summoning me to a spot between his knees. “Now come. I wish to inspect you.”
I raise my chin. “Why?”
His voice is a dangerous rumble. “It’s enough that I wish it.”
I can’t forget who I’m playing with. Logan isn’t just any Master. I rise and stand before him, my slender body braced by his powerful thighs. The stubble on his face is thicker today. Is he growing a beard? Trying to cover his scars? He’s still wearing the mask. His shield. I miss his face. His icy blue eyes tell me nothing.
But the way he’s rubbing his right thumb and forefinger together tells me everything. He wants to touch me.
The question is, why is he holding back?
“Turn around,” he rasps. I pivot smoothly, tightening my muscles to still my trembling. Knowing that he wants me splashes gasoline on the fire of my arousal. The skin of my back and buttocks prickles as if his gaze is a caress.
“Hands and knees.”
My heart drops to the carpet but I don’t dare question him. What’s in store today? I lower myself down to all fours.
His hand glides down my back and applies pressure to the center of my shoulders until I lower my front half to the floor. My cheek hits the scratchy Turkish rug. I study the rich red and navy pattern and try not to picture Logan leaning forward in his chair, peering straight at my pussy.
Except that’s exactly what he does. Of course he does. The chair creaks and hot breath hits my buttocks. Oh gods. He’s inspecting me. Thoroughly. Admiring his handiwork? The decorations the leather crop left on my skin? My sex spasms even at the memories.
By the
time he put me to bed last night, I was so out of it, I barely remember him washing and rubbing cream into my sore bits. But I know he did. Though my body still bears some marks, the sting has faded. The lingering achiness is mostly from my muscles clenching as he teased me to the brink—and the cataclysm that was my orgasm.
An orgasm I sorely need. Again. I don’t need the Scientific Method to tell me wherever Logan is concerned, I’m a simmering pot of arousal. Even when he’s wielding evil clamps with metal teeth. His torture only turns me on a million times more. I had no idea I would or even could cum from so much pain.
Why? Maybe, on some level, I feel I deserve it? The pain is absolution, the pleasure a benediction. The punishment scours me clean. Enduring the trials, I earn what I need. But that’s somehow…freeing. Even in humiliation and the pleasure it brings, I’m not embarrassed. I’m finally free.
“Reach back, pet, and spread your cheeks for me.”
What?
I hesitate too long because Logan’s tone drops a thousand degrees. “Did I not make myself clear?”
Shit! I wriggle my arms free and reach back, hissing as I grab a handful of tender flesh in each palm. But it’s not the pain, it’s the humiliation, knowing he’s looking at me right there—
Something cool hits my asshole. And now he’s touching me, spreading what must be slippery lube all over the dark whorl of my back hole. He even probes the tight ring of muscle, making my lower belly flip with the wrongness of the sensation.
My hands release my cheeks and I squeeze them shut.
“Ahh, and you were doing so well.” Logan murmurs. There’s a rustle I don’t have time to wonder about because I’m too busy stopping myself from running screaming from the room. I guess wallflower, hide-in-the-corner Daphne is still there inside me after all.
“Rise and face me,” Logan orders in his deep Master voice.
Thank fuck. I shoot off the floor and whirl, sending my hair whipping over my front. Sure enough, Logan is holding a silver bulb with a generous amount of lube smeared at the tip.
“You were so pretty last night in your clamps, I’ve decided to add to your uniform.” He tilts it and a hint of green winks from the base. “Green was always your color.”
Of course he got me an emerald jeweled butt plug.
I swallow. I’ve never ever had anything up my butt. He promised it when I was here before, but we never got around to it…
Somehow I find my voice. It’s squeaky but it works. “How many patents will you give me if I let you put that in?” I’m that girl on the beach. Brazen in her red bikini. Taking control of my own life. Of my own pleasure.
I’m not sure what’s been happening these past few weeks, but I’m not letting go without a fight. Going back and having Adam steamroll over me…no, letting him steamroll over me. I can’t be that girl anymore. I need to be someone new. It’s time to grow the hell up.
But Logan’s not about to let any defiance go unchallenged. He raises a thick brow. “Let me? Oh pet, you are mistaken. I won’t be putting this in.”
A rush of relief roars in my ears. Over the sound, I say, “No?”
“No. But it’s going in.” He sends me plummeting back to Earth. “Question is: will you insert it before or after your punishment?”
* * *
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing with my nose to the oak-paneled wall, staring at the honey grain. It feels like a lifetime. My ass throbs from the spanking Master gave me. My pussy is wet and my brain is torn.
Are my nipples hard from the cold or the humiliation of being told to stand in silence after punishment like a chastised child? Add to the indignity the unyielding metal butt plug stretching my virgin hole.
Behind me, paper flutters. Logan must be reading a paper, every so often turning the page. If he looked up he’d be able to see me standing in the corner, a statue with red marks on her ass and a sparkly green jewel between her butt cheeks.
When he made me put it in, I tossed it out at the first opportunity. He made me pick it up and clean it. Then he put me over his lap and inserted one size larger.
Then he spanked me and had me stand in the corner. The worst part isn’t the pain. No. I can take way more. The worst part is my pussy’s dying to be touched.
I clench my fists and fight the urge to sway from side to side. Any movement makes me more aware of the thick intruder in my ass.
“Stop fidgeting, pet.” Another ripple of paper as he folds the newspaper.
I close my eyes and count my breaths, trying to relax but my ass feels strange with the huge invader stretching my back hole. So foreign. And so…new.
Every day, something new. Logan finds a new way to push me, to stretch my limits. I swallow a laugh. He is very literally stretching my limits today.
He paraded me in front of the mirror earlier so I could see in excruciating detail just how he’s stretching me. That was right before he teased my clit and then sent me to the corner like a naughty schoolgirl.
Finally, finally, Logan orders me to turn around and beckons me to him. I take a step in his direction.
“No.” His command slices the air. He snaps and points to the floor. “On your knees. Crawl to me.”
Face on fire, I lower to all fours and crawl awkwardly across the carpet to him. My hair flops in my face. When the tips of his shoes come into view, I shuffle to a stop.
“We’ll have to work on that.”
And work on it we do. Over and over he makes me crawl back and forth until I’m grateful for the thick carpet. Back arched, head high, hips and breasts swaying as I slink across the room towards him. He has the crop again and uses it to guide my buttocks higher, my posture more sway-backed.
More and more I find my gaze slipping, fastening to the top button of his jeans. Round and dull as an ancient coin. Barely holding back the ever burgeoning length of his cock. He’s not unaffected by my performance and that thrills me and pushes me on.
He didn’t cum—not last night. Not today. Not yet. And it shows.
At last he sits, legs apart. “Now it’s your turn to please me.” This is a first. Ha. Today hasn’t just been torture for me, has it? I feel like a cat presented with a bowl of cream.
The closer I get to Logan, the more I feel the intense heat emanating off his skin. As if his lungs are bellows and his heart a great hearth, pumping sparks and ash through his veins.
When I finally undo the button and zipper and palm his cock, it jumps in my hand. Little shocks of electricity run down my arms and spine. He’s breathing hard but so am I. My cunt quickens as I breathe in his earthy scent.
My mouth waters but I force myself to sit back. “How many?” I ask, challenging him with my gaze.
His eyebrows shoot up. I’m on my knees before him, face level with his giant cock. The devil is back and she’ll have her due. “How many patents does this earn?”
His eyes flash but he answers gruffly. “One. You should beg to please your Master.”
I circle my fingers around his cock. A thick vein runs down the side. It pulses as I squeeze lightly. “Ten.”
“Five.”
I angle my head and blow along his length. My lips seek his testicles, brushing against the pebbled skin. I duck my head to hide my smirk. I’ve got him literally by the balls.
“Seven,” I bargain back.
His jaw tightens and he glares down at me through his mask. It’s cute, really, that he thinks it will put any barrier between us. He pretends to be so hard, so untouchable, but I know him. And yes, I let him master me, but I’ve begun to understand the reality of this power dynamic.
I have far more control than I first realized. Holy shit. I think… I think that’s been part of what’s been changing everything for me. It’s not just sexual exploration. Number one, it’s sexual exploration with Logan, the only man I could ever trust with my body this way. And number two, I’ve actually had so much more control than it appears from the outside. I’m the one who’s been tied up, but I s
till have the power to hold this man captive.
Not that he’s going to go down without a fight.
He places his foot between my legs. “You can sacrifice two of the seven patents in exchange for me letting you cum.”
I whimper. Oooh, he fights dirty. But that’s just part of the game. I grip him tighter and shift away from his foot. He denies himself all the time, and so can I.
“Seven,” I say firmly, and then I drop my mouth over the head of his fat cock.
Thirteen
Present Day
Logan
Fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Her mouth is on me. And then she fucking kills me by looking up with those luminous angel eyes and I almost cum right then and there.
Not that she’s about to let me. She pulls back off with a loud, slurping pop and then her hands are massaging my inner thighs. Up to my balls. She grasps them and rolls them in her hand gently, then blows again right at the tip of my cock.
I can’t help the shudder that works its way down my spine. I’ve been so controlled with her. So disciplined. A thousand times I’ve wanted to sink inside that golden pussy of hers.
This isn’t exactly the same, but having my cock inside any part of her hot, wet, welcoming body is tantamount to torture. I should never have let her anywhere near…
But I can’t bring myself to command her to stop. Just this once, it’s okay. A master can enjoy his sub’s attentions. That’s part of the gig, right?
She licks an especially sensitive area right underneath the tip of my cock and my head drops backwards in my chair. Fuck, oh fuck.
My hips buck with her next tantalizing lick and I grip the armrests to try to control myself.
But shit, I can’t let her know she’s affecting me like this. “Suck it if you’re going to suck it,” I growl.
She looks up at me, raises an eyebrow, and then, while we’re still locked in eye contact, she extends just the tip of her tongue and, back and forth, back and forth, lathes the very tip of my cock.
Billionaire’s Captive: A Beauty and the Rose Box Set Page 22
