“Thank you, little one.” He stroked her shoulder as the music throbbed around them. Then he curled a hand under her body, sliding his finger over her clit. “I would be pleased if you came for me. Now.”
With a little cry of surprise, she gasped, “Yes, Sir.”
Another light circle over her hard little clit, and Callie’s whole body shook, convulsed. Her nerve-laden nubbin turned to stone, pulsed under his fingers, as her cries rang in his ears. He opened his pores to her delightful storm of emotion, letting more sink in to him. God, how desperately he needed to feel something.
When her orgasm subsided, he removed the plastic egg as he kissed her shoulder. “Very pretty. It would please me now to watch you be f**ked.”
She stilled. “Watch, Sir? I—I hoped . . . Yes, Sir.”
Logan heard the disappointment in her voice. So, she’d gotten the 411 on him, and like most of the other subs here, Callie wanted to be the one he finally f**ked. That his celibacy had become a mountain for these women to climb really pissed him off. His reasons for abstaining were his own. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation or a stiff dick.
“You knew what would happen when you walked in this dungeon. I stated it clearly, and you agreed. If you’ve changed your mind, use your safe word and everything ends.”
The sub’s head snapped up. “No, Sir! If watching pleases you, then I will happily accept another. Please, I ache . . .”
No, it didn’t please him exactly, but in the long run, f**king her himself would displease him more. And afterward, he’d inevitably dismiss her harshly and hurt her without meaning to, which would only make him feel worse. It happened every time.
“Very well,” he murmured. “Xander?”
When Logan turned, his friend had already shucked his clothes and donned a condom over that big c**k that made him a good living, even though he was already filthy rich. On silent footsteps, Xander circled Callie until he crouched in front of her. “I’m going to take care of you from here. Do you understand?”
The sub nodded, keeping her eyes downcast, but her body vibrated with excitement. “Yes, Sir.”
“You’ll please Master Logan by submitting to me now.”
“I understand.”
“Good girl.” Xander caressed her back, her ass, then helped her to her feet. He guided her to a spanking bench and clipped her in with the rings attached on her wrist and ankle cuffs, tossing the spreader bar aside once he had. With one hand, he plunged two fingers into her pu**y. With the other, he smacked her sweetly rosy backside. She gasped.
That quickly, Callie was aroused again. And Xander didn’t hesitate. He gripped her hips, aligned his cock, and pushed his way in. She clawed the bench and cried out against the invasion. As Xander slammed her, she came again.
Logan’s work here was done. The sub was in the best hands possible. Xander would give her what she needed both during and after sex.
After smoothing a tender hand down Callie’s hair, Logan turned and left. Breath sawing in and out of his chest, he pivoted and headed to the end of the hall, pushing his way into the club showers. As he reached for the faucet and waited for the scalding water, his hand shook.
Damn, Callie’s lack of filter didn’t just apply to her mouth. Her emotions had mounted, one on top of the other, until they’d spilled all over him. Her fear, her thrill, her desire, her trembling greed for more had bled into him—and he’d sucked in every drop. Subs like her were the reason dominance worked for him.
Logan stripped, then stepped into the swirl of spray and hot steam. He wasn’t stupid; psychologists would have a field day with him, if he’d ever talk to one. Fuck that. He wasn’t opening his head for some shrink. He was simply wired this way, and his emotional disconnect worked professionally. Navy SEALs had to be collected, logic firing on all cylinders. When emotions got involved, people died.
Personally, however, it sucked. Sponging off women like Callie only took him so far. He remembered those high school days when all it had taken was one look, one kiss, and he’d been brimming with so many fantasies and wants that he couldn’t process them all. But that had been before . . . Nope, not thinking about her.
Still, once she flashed across his brain, he was unable to stop himself from wrapping his hand around the inside of his left thigh and fingering the little tattoo there. Like always, desire roared through him. Just like that, he was desperate to come.
Desperate to have what he knew he never would again.
Blocking out those thoughts, Logan jerked his hand from the tattoo and soaped his palms. He’d better get down to business before his thoughts turned into a total buzz kill.
Drawing in a cleansing breath, he closed his eyes and shut everything out except the vision of how Callie had looked minutes ago under his command. With his back to the spray, he took his c**k in hand.
At the first touch, tingles shot through his groin, up his spine. He called forth the memories of the sub’s pants and moans. The scent of her arousal still lingered in his nostrils. Her trembling pleas had been hot. Desire simmered in his belly, and another stroke up his dick fanned the fire higher.
The wild need in Callie’s eyes pumped Logan with a heavy euphoria. Letting that brew in his brain, he picked up the pace, rubbed his thumb along a sensitive spot on his glans. Fire licked his balls, and the ache tightened, tingled at the base of his spine.
Part of him wished he’d taken her up on her offer and f**ked her. It had been more than five years since he’d felt the silken clasp of a woman’s pu**y. But nothing had changed. He had no reason to hope that being with Callie would provide any different outcome. Crushing emptiness and disappointment would level him the moment the orgasm ended—if he had one at all. The woman always either felt inadequate or irate. Sex had been that way every time he’d tried with anyone after—
No. Damn it, he wasn’t having thoughts of her. He had to focus on Callie and those swollen lips of hers, begging for the orgasm she’d needed with every nerve in her body, of those pleas filling him with anxious tension, arousal, fueling his own need to come.
Logan stroked faster. She’d been gorgeous. Once he’d curbed her sass a bit, she’d been willing to stay in the raging tumult to please him. And when he’d granted her orgasm, the pure joy in the experience had been completely heady. He’d greedily sucked in that tingling ache. Now, he anticipated that same cataclysm washing over him.