Billionaire's Captive Complete Trilogy - Stasia Black Page 0,88
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.