Page 47 of The Burnt Heart

“We haven’t played Start or Stop in a while. Do you think you can guess correctly this time?”

Logan’s hands crushed into fists on his thighs, and his abs rippled tight. He wanted this so badly.

“Yes, master.” He dipped his head, tongue swiping over his thick bottom lip. I hummed my pleasure, taking him in my hand. I drank in his desperate groan, the way his head fell back at my touch. Start or Stop was a simple game. A devious one. I jerked Logan until he was close to coming and would ask him ‘Start or Stop?’ and he would have to guess what I was thinking. Start meant the game continued. I would continue to edge him. Stop meant I would let him come how he wanted to, by my hand, mouth or pussy. But if he guessed incorrectly? I would bring him to the edge but pull away and ruin his orgasm. My chest heaved as I twisted my fist around his cock. He was already showing signs of reaching completion. The head was flushed purple and beaded cum glistened like pearls. I collected the precious drops, resisting the urge to taste, and used them as lube. Soft pants fell from his parted lips.

“Start or Stop?” I asked as his chest rose, shallow and quick.

I slowed my movements as he deliberated, the silence in the room broken by his ragged breathing. He nibbled on his bottom lip, taking longer than usual. His shoulders bunched about his ears when I made a noise of impatience.

“Start,” he blurted, frozen as my hand moved.

“Such a good boy,” I praised, his cheeks flooding red. He didn’t speak, but something like a moan came as his reply, tongue tangled with relief and pleasure. Power surged through me, my fingers tightening until he groaned again. Low and long. My clit throbbed at the needy sound. He was already squirming, his breathing choppy.

“Start or Stop?” I asked, surprised at how quickly he neared the peak again. It settled my churning stomach. Only I could give this to him. I had been Logan’s first. The only one of my guys who was a virgin when we got together. Part of me had always expected Logan to long for other experiences. Being someone’s one and only was a heavy mantle to balance. But knowing how he was repulsed by others touch had assuaged my fears. Sex between us was always special because it was a conscious choice. Tendons strained in Logan’s neck as he hesitated once more. My head spun, dizzy, knowing he was desperate for this game to continue.

“Start.” His chin hit his heaving chest.

“Right again. I’m so proud of you.” I squeezed his shaft, twisting my fist over his engorged head. I stole each one of his harsh exhales and tucked them in a box at the back of my mind. The heat of his tormented skin was like a brand, and I knew I could never remove it. I would not regret this. It had been my choice, and it didn’t change what we were.

I was still in control.

But then Logan surprised me. His hips thrust and his cock moved through my fist urgently. He rocked against my hand again, trying to command the movement. Disbelief crashed over me, like a wave. Logan didn’t misbehave like this normally. For a moment, I was speechless, tongue inert with shock. Until he thrust upwards again, deliberate and defiant.

“Start or Stop,” I spat out, slowing my movements. I let my hand trail down his reddened cock, teasing with my nail tips. He was blindfolded, but it was like he could see me through the faded material. I stared back, jaw tight. I wondered if he realized the mistake he had made.

“Start,” he practically begged. A plea for me to continue. Logan wanted me to keep my hands on him, to prolong this illicit game. My head was clear now, the thoughts in control. My mind became a vault once more. Logan thought he could make me do what he wanted? He needed a reminder of who his master was.

“Wrong answer. I guess you won’t get your choice today.” I fisted his cock and jerked him with abandon now. He was so slick with pre-cum, hot and solid in my relentless grip. It would have felt so good inside of me, but now I had to punish him.

“Fuck, siren,” Logan cursed softly, speaking out of turn. “Please, god.”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. I wouldn’t just ruin his orgasm; I’d make him eat it too. My hand slowed, feeling him pulse in my hold. I circled the base of his cock with my thumb and pointed finger. Whisper soft and completely unsatisfying. Which was entirely the point. Logan’s thighs shook as white release spurted out, frustrated and thwarted. Logan’s head hung and his groans sounded like sobs. I held his hard length as come dripped over my fingers.

His orgasm ruined.

“I am the one who is in control. You disappointed me, so now I want you to clean up your mess and think about what you’ve done,” I scolded.

Logan’s breath hitched as he tore the makeshift blindfold off and saw my hand held out to him. His tongue made quick work of the release coating my fingers. He sucked on my thumb, crystal eyes hard and devastated as he looked at me. This time he didn’t rebel, his fingers collecting his wasted orgasm. He pokedhis tongue out and coated it with his own release. One eyebrow jerked upwards, as if to ask if I was happy. I groaned, pushing to my feet as he cleaned himself up. Between my legs was heated, tingling and frustrated itself. But there would be no release for me. I would wait until I was alone and shove my hands down my pants. My nose tickled with the scent of smoke and my head whipped to the window.

“Get up, something’s wrong.” I knew instinctively, without having to process it. Even the trees seemed to agree, leaves frozen and waiting.

“Siren? What is it?” Logan buttoned his jeans hurriedly and followed me to the door. The plot was empty, but I heard the rumble of an exhaust. One that I knew implicitly. The wheel squealed, unseen, but there was no doubting it was a motorcycle.

“Crimson Claw.” My eye caught on another bunch of flowers by my grandmother’s grave. Bright as freshly spilled blood. I choked on the insult. They had been here moments ago, and I had been too busy with Logan to even notice. I moved toward my car, determined to catch them somehow. I couldn’t let this stand. But as I raced forward, Logan snagged his arm around my waist.

“Wait, don’t go yet. The smoke—” his explanation was blasted away as my car exploded. A wave of heat thrust us backwards and we both slammed into the dirt. My ears rang, head dizzy as I tried to get to my feet. I couldn’t comprehend what I was looking at. A blackened husk, spewing dark smoke and angry, licking flames that scorched the sky. Logan bundled me in his arms, head turned into the nook of my neck.

“Are you ok? Were you hurt?” He patted me down frantically. I shook my head, unable to look away from the wreckage that had been my car two seconds ago. If Logan hadn’t grabbed me, I would have been inside, or at least close enough that the blast would have killed me. My fingers dug into Logan’s arms.

“I’m fine. What about you?” I turned to Logan and saw he had a slight gash on his forehead. It dribbled blood, like a tear down his face.

“I guess a piece of it caught me, but nothing else.” He offered me a shaky smile. He coaxed me into his hold again, and I let him. I needed something solid to cling on to right now. But as we stood there, shivers wracked my body.

And they weren’t my own.

24

Adelaide

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