My body shivers at the thought of him pushing that inside me. He doesn’t move closer, but he doesn’t move away either. The power exchange in the room hangs heavily over us. He’s the strong alpha male, and I’m the soft, gentle figurine here for him to play with.
“You’re . . .” I don’t know what to say. My words taper off into nothing. The silence that follows stretches out, almost as if it’s a cat elongating and yawning.
“I’m . . .?” he asks.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“No, that’s not what you can’t believe,” he tells me, crouching, so we’re eye to eye. “What you can’t believe is that you’re wet, needy.” He smirks. “You can’t believe your pretty pussy is pulsing, aching to be filled.”
I try to shake my head, but it’s pointless because he’s right.
“Tell me, Vera,” he says, his voice tight, and his body taut with . . . something. Need? I don’t know, but he wants to hear me admit it. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I wish I could be honest, say what I feel, what I need, but actually saying the words out loud will make it real.
“Leave me alone,” I mumble, my throat still burning from the tightness of how he held me. I wonder if I’m bruised. Logan watches me for a long while before he nods and rises. I watch him turn and stride away. He can read me, it’s clear. Apparently, to Logan Oakridge, I’m an open book, and all he wants to do is turn the pages until there are no more secrets between us.
But I need to hold onto mine for a moment longer. The door shuts, and I sit there in silence, thinking about what just happened. I want him. It’s clear my body responds to him in ways I never expected. And now he knows it too.
I glance up, remembering he brought me dinner. I scoot over to the tray and find a glass of orange soda, along with a plate of pot pie and now-cold fries. Beside it is a bowl; inside, I see a double chocolate cupcake. A small smile tilts my lips, but I catch myself from enjoying the moment.
I settle on the stool, eating slowly, thinking about Logan, and how my mind is awash with images of him doing things to me. I grab a book and flip it open, reading while I eat. Focusing my attention on the words as I savor the peppery flavor of the meat and vegetables on my plate.
Once dinner is finished, I grab the bowl and head to bed. The orange drink I sit on the nightstand as I settle back against the headboard and read a tale of how Sleeping Beauty fell in love with the prince.
The chocolatey goodness of the dessert makes me moan in pleasure. I’ve always had a weakness for chocolate, and this is one of the most delicious cakes I’ve tasted. Once it’s finished, I set the bowl on the nightstand and scoot lower under the covers. A chill has come over, and the room isn’t as warm as it was when the sun was shining through the windows.
I’m still not sure what the time is, but weariness overtakes me, and soon enough, my eyes are fluttering closed.
14
Logan
I smile as I watch her sleep. The camera sitting in the corner of her room is out of sight, and it allows me to observe my Sleeping Beauty as she dreams. I wonder what is running through her mind right now.
Is she dreaming of me?
When I taunted her earlier, I saw her pupils dilate with every filthy promise I made, and even though I expected her to fight me on it, she didn’t.
The feel of her delicate throat in my hold was enough to have my cock aching to be inside her. I’ve always been more turned on with women who weren’t looking at me, who weren’t able to fight, to speak while I was inside them. The broken parts of me loved the shattered parts of them. But with Vera, there’s something different.
I can’t explain it, and I definitely can’t define it. Nothing I feel around her makes sense. Not the way I want her to see me while I take her. Not the way her feisty nature makes every inch of my body grow hard and needy. And not even the way I crave to see her come apart.
At almost thirty years old, I shouldn’t be sitting here watching her on a small screen while I jerk my dick, but I am. Like a demented fucking stalker, I’m getting off while she’s asleep in my bed.
She rolls over, the blanket falling from her body, and I take note of how her smooth, porcelain thighs are splayed. Her panties are tight against her cunt, and the puffy lips are prominent. A groan of pleasure escapes my lips as I feel my release nearing.
I’m almost there. I’m about to find euphoria when she once again moves, and I catch a glimpse of her pert ass. The smooth material offering her up like a sacrifice. She’s beautiful, perfect in every way.
I want nothing more than to rub myself against her ass, to feel her softness, and make her moan while she’s asleep. To mark her with my seed while she’s oblivious to my pleasure. And when she wakes, she’ll feel the stickiness of me all over her.
I smile.
My hand moves faster.
She taunts me unknowingly as she becomes restless.
My hand stops suddenly when she shoots up, screaming into the darkness of the bedroom. I’m on my feet in seconds, shoving my dick into my jeans. Pain causes me to wince as I race up the stairs to unlock her door and shove it open.
Vera is crying on the bed, her body wracked with sobs, and I don’t think twice about pulling her into my arms. I’m on the mattress, holding her against me as she cries. I’m not sure what the fuck just happened, but she better tell me the truth, or I’ll spank it out of her.
I listen to her cries. The soft, mewling sounds lull her and me into a false sense of security, and soon enough, I feel her fall asleep in my arms. Her body is so small compared to mine. My arms cocoon her, and I feel her heat against me. Vera is nestled in my arms, the soft scent of vanilla still in her hair as I close my eyes and inhale the fragrance.
Her gentle breaths wisp from her slightly parted lips, and I watch her. The golden strands of her hair frame her face. The apples of her cheeks are shaded with a soft pink, and I can’t help but take her in.
Would this ever work between us?
How can we ever make this permanent?
The questions circle themselves in my mind as I watch her sleep. She truly is beautiful. My body hums with need when she nestles farther into my hold, and I tighten my arms around her. My cock is straining against my zipper. My earlier pleasure is still apparent.
Her arm slips down, her hand falling against the bulge in my jeans, causing me to hold my breath. She doesn’t realize what she’s doing. She’s asleep, and before I can chastise myself or feel any guilt, I take her hand and press it against the hardness of my cock.
The pulse that thrums in my chest shoots down to my cock, and a groan is drawn from deep in my gut. I know this is wrong. I know this is not keeping her safe, but rather taking advantage, but I can’t help myself.
I close my eyes as pure adrenalin zaps through my veins, like an electric shock coursing through me from the top of my head down to my toes. They curl in my socks; the ache only intensifies the harder I press. Her tiny hand is so small compared to my cock. I picture her gripping it, stroking it.
“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath as I use her limp hand to jerk me off through the material of my jeans. I should stop, but I don’t. I never once claimed to be a good man, and this time it’s no different as pleasure seeps from the tip of my cock, wetting my jeans, the damp spot visible through the material.