But that’s okay, because it gives me the opportunity to look at him.
I didn’t realize it earlier, but the shorts he was wearing were swim trunks, so all he had to do was take off his shirt.
And holy moly.
He’s not huge or anything. He actually looks younger without his shirt on. I bet when he’s older he’ll be big—his shoulders are already really wide but they haven’t quite filled in all the way.
But he’s still so much bigger than me. And there’s this crazy sexy dusting of hair across his pecs.
Sexy.
That is the word for Logan Wulfe. He. Is. So. Sexy.
He’s leaning back casually on his elbows, the salty wind blowing in his hair, his tan skin shining in the sun.
My stomach swoops with feelings I’ve never felt before. All I know is that I want to crawl on top of him. I want to bury my face against his chest and have him wrap those arms around me.
The swoopy, liquid feeling in my tummy zings lower, between my legs and I inhale sharply, which makes Logan look my way.
Our eyes catch. Oh crap, oh crap, can he tell what I’m thinking? Does he know I’ve just been ogling him for the past five minutes and that I’m having sexy feelings about him?
Is it just me feeling like there’s a sizzling intensity in his eyes as we continue to lock gazes? Am I imagining his nostrils flaring? His eyes darkening? Could he possibly feel even a morsel of what I’m feeling back?
“Want to go for a swim?” he finally says, his words an explosion of air as he hops up from the blanket. “I’m going for a swim.”
He’s already walking away from me before I can agree and jump up to join him.
But he slows down as I hurry after him and he holds out a hand to me as I unsteadily follow him into the water.
“You’ve swam in the ocean before, right?” he checks.
“Once. A long time ago. I was a kid though and it was mainly splashing on the shore.”
He mutters something under his breath, I think about my dad, but then he moves closer. “Stay beside me.”
I nod as we move into the water up to our hips and the incoming waves are stronger.
“Okay, now let's start to swim. Once we get past that break it should settle out.”
I nod as he lets go, following him and abandoning my feet on the ground as we start to swim along the shoreline.
The ocean swells with a small wave, but we swim through it and avoid the whitewater of the break.
“You’re doing great,” he encourages.
The truth is I’d be terrified if I was out here by myself. But with him, I feel invincible.
We don’t go far and he warns me about undercurrents. We hang out and I’m exhilarated by riding the swells of the waves.
“Oh my gosh, here comes a big one. Logan, look how big it is!”
“I’ve got you,” he laughs, swimming over to my side. “We’ll ride it together.”
I nod as he holds onto me from behind, his arms wrapped around my waist. I hold out my arms and tread water as the biggest swell yet comes.
“Swim towards it,” Logan says in my ear.
I do, and I feel like I’m flying with him so close. The swell comes and we rise so high, so high, it feels like breathing with the huge animal that is the ocean. And then down we come as the wave crashes down.
I laugh and spin in Logan’s arms.
I want to kiss him but I wouldn’t even begin to know how. So I hug him instead. “Thank you. Thank you, Logan. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
His arms come back around me, but only for a quick squeeze, lingering a moment before he pulls away.
I’m so caught up in him that I’m not watching the waves. I guess Logan isn’t either because all I hear is, “Oh shit!” before we’re suddenly doused by white-water.
It knocks us apart and I come up sputtering and laughing. Logan immediately swims back over to me once he surfaces. “Shit, Daph, are you okay? Shit, I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine,” I laugh, pushing my wet hair out of my face. “Now see if you can catch me.”
I start to swim away from him. He gives me a head start but then catches me in about three seconds anyway, and again, his amazing arms wrap around me.
Can I please stay in this ocean forever if it means he’ll keep touching me like this?
But he says it’s time for us to get out only fifteen minutes later, though I make him promise we’ll go for another swim before we leave.
All I know is I never want the day to end. I want a lifetime of days on the beach with Logan Wulfe.
Twelve
Present Day
Daphne
The next day, I knock softly at the oak paneled library door and wait. The light slanting in the hall is rich and bright. Late morning light. I slept until almost noon. But after last night, I needed it.
“Enter,” comes the gruff invitation. My heart flutters and I push open the heavy door.
I’m naked, as ordered by a note left on my bedside table. My legs are shaky and my clit is sore, but I feel light. It’s amazing to be able to wake up and have nothing to do but follow my Master’s commands. And last night purged me of something, a heavy weight I’d been carrying. My guilt? Any last barriers between the girl I used to be and the woman I’m becoming?
All I know is that I want Logan more than ever. I want this more than ever. I want the man who takes me to the heights of pleasure and beyond, who knows me better than any other and who I can trust to take me even higher, darker, deeper. He’ll never let me fall, and there’s such a freedom in that like I’ve never known.
My gaze is naturally lowered as I pad barefoot through the shelves of leather-bound tomes. Master sits in a giant red velvet chair by the fire, a plate full of pastries on the Corinthian column pedestal table beside him. But where there used to be a matching red velvet chair and side table for me, there’s only bare carpet.
Master snaps his fingers and points to a spot in front of him. That’s when I see it: the large red tasseled cushion on the floor.
He expects me to kneel at his feet, lounging on the floor like a pet. Fuck. Warmth blooms in my lower belly. I’m turned on.
Master’s face is cold and impassive, well, what I can see of it. He’s wearing the mask and otherwise, he might as well be carved from marble.
He expects me to put up a fuss. To fight. A test?
I brush the shimmering fall of my hair from my face and lower myself gracefully to the floor. Surprise flickers across his face as I arrange myself on the cushion. Lest he think I’m a perfectly docile and obedient submissive, I shoot him a challenge through my lashes and raise a brow.
Long fingers steepled in front of his face, the Beast regards me. I’m so fascinated by this side of him. Strong. Dominant. Unyielding. Hot as fuck.
Anything could happen next and the thrill lighting up my chest makes me feel so fucking alive, like there’s an undercurrent of electricity zinging through my bloodstream.
Still impassive, he breaks off a corner of a pastry. The almond and vanilla scent makes my stomach roar. A corner of the Beast’s mouth kicks up as he holds the sugar-dusted piece out to me.
But when I reach for it, he draws it back and tuts. Fuck. There’s that bloom of humiliation, spreading across my cheeks, warming my pussy. Why does this turn me on? Screw it. I don’t care why. I give into it.