blows. He’s being the Master, still caring for me even as he doles out punishment.
And to Logan, my Logan, I can trust and abandon myself over to whatever he has to give. My entire body relaxes as I give in.
When the next spank comes, it reverberates throughout my body. It still hurts. It hurts a hell of a lot. But I allow myself to feel the sting, the heat, and to ride it. To ride it all the way through my body and out again until a strange euphoria settles over me.
“Eight,” I gasp. “May I please have another, Sir?”
Hesitation, and then the next comes. There’s the pain, no less sharp for the euphoria, but while my feet are planted on the ground, I’m also floating. Floating so high. My breathing slows, my grip on the couch flexes and then releases.
“Nine, may I please have another, Sir,” I manage in a rush, anticipating the last, all fear and confusion gone.
And when the last blow comes, it makes my body sing. For one shining moment, I feel so alive, my body electric, the world and all its worries a million miles away. I’m floating above it all. Safe like a cloud.
And then comes his touch. Hot where it already burns but then slipping between my legs and stoking another kind of fire. My face drops to the side of the couch. I’ll go wherever he leads me. My body is pliant. I’m warm wax to be molded. “Thank you, Sir,” I breathe.
“Damn you,” he hisses. “Damn you.”
His warm heat disappears from behind me. I blink in confusion, still spiraling down. When I look over my shoulder, all I see is him disappearing up the stairs.
What? Usually he never leaves my side after we— After a—
I swallow and stand up, wincing at the sting in my ass. My hands immediately go to my backside, but every touch hurts. I want to sit down. I feel woozy. I’m overwhelmed. I want to be in Logan’s arms.
But he’s not here. Why isn’t he here?
Then there are footsteps on the stairs and my eyes fly up to see Logan coming back down, jar of salve in his hands. My entire body relaxes at the sight. He is going to take care of me. Tears spring to my eyes but I blink them back.
But then the jar of salve comes flying through the air at me and I lift my hands and catch it barely in time.
“I’ve called you a taxi.” Logan’s voice is low and arctic, his face blank of all emotion.
“I- I don’t understand.” And I don’t. Everything still feels fuzzy after the places he just took my body. “This is my house.”
Emotion lights his face now, but it’s not one I like. A cruel smile curls his lips. “Your house. But kitten, your father sold me this property, too. All that was once yours is now mine. I own you.”
His words snap me out of my daze. “Dad would never sell Thornhill! My mother is—!!” My eyes shoot to the window. I can’t see my mother’s resting place from here, but it’s right out there. My mom is here, forever. All our memories are here. Dad wouldn’t— He couldn’t—
“Your father sold your ancestral home without a second thought to save his precious company,” Logan continues. “Without even consulting you. That’s how much he values you and what you care about.”
“And what are you going to do with it? Bulldoze the mausoleum and light my childhood home on fire to get your unholy revenge?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Logan rages, storming towards me, stopping only inches away from me, his face right in front of my face. The scars on his face are pale, but the rest of his skin is flushed and angry. “Your family took everything from me!”
I start to shake my head but he’s not done, “And you,” he growls. “Bella donna. Beautiful poison.” He spits the last word and turns away.
His words gut me, scooping me out like an ice cream scooper.
For a long moment, there’s only silence in the room, both of us breathing hard. We are destroyed things. Broken. Irreparable.
A sudden ping startles me. Logan pulls a phone out of his pocket. He doesn’t look at me. “Your taxi is here.”
My taxi. Just like that, he’s kicking me out. Of my own house. That he bought out of revenge. This is so messed up.
I walk towards the door. What’s there left to say?
“Don’t forget the salve.”
I look back at him