“Yes,” I gasped.
“But you can’t, can you?”
“No,” I said with a whimper. I was so close to the edge I wanted to cry.
“Why not?”
“Because you own me,” I said. “You own my pleasure. I can’t come until you tell me.”
“Good girl.” He reached around to touch the sensitive bud of my clit as he drove deeply into me.
I cried out over and over, legs and arms almost collapsing as pleasure soared through me. I was incoherent, begging and pleading, breaking down into a purely animalistic state. I hated how Logan could do this to me so easily, but I loved it all the same. It felt so fucking good.
He pulled my head around to face him again. His mouth closed over mine, and I shut my eyes, losing myself to the sensation of his soft lips, heavy hands wandering over me, and the harsh sound of his breath as he thrust deeply inside me.
“Come for me,” he muttered. “I want to feel it.”
I did as he said, commanding myself to let go and come on his cock as he buried himself to the hilt in my ass. My eyes went wide as the climax rolled through me, and my limbs ached as I struggled to keep myself up.
Logan pulled out of me with a grunt, and I choked out a question. “Aren’t you going to come, sir?”
“No. I don’t need you for that,” he said. “But you do. I wanted to show you.”
With that, he turned and headed for the bathroom.
Tears pricked at my eyes despite the pleasure rocketing through me. That mind-blowing experience was nothing more than another cruel lesson about Logan’s domination and ownership of me.
I was wrong when I thought we couldn’t control our physical reactions to each other. He’d just proved to me that he was always in total control of himself, no matter what.
I wasn’t. I couldn’t come without him. Couldn’t even touch myself unless he was right there with me, watching and spurring me on. It simply didn’t work, because without him, I was numb.
I couldn’t stand the truth, painful and ugly as it was, but I had to face up to it.
Logan already owned me more than I ever thought possible.