Torn from You (Tear Asunder #1)

Torn from You (Tear Asunder #1) Page 14
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Torn from You (Tear Asunder #1) Page 14

I tensed as he circled the tight opening.

“Relax.” His voice was soft and sweet. “You need to relax and push out.”

It was embarrassing, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted his finger in that forbidden place. But it was also making me hotter.

His finger pushed, and I tensed.

“No, Eme. Don’t fight it. I promise it’ll feel good, but it can’t be if you won’t relax.”

I took several deep breaths, then moaned, as he pushed his finger inside my tight ass at the same time.

“Oh God.” It felt full and weird and ... fuck, it felt illicit and amazing too. Then when he started pushing his finger in and out like he was fucking my ass while he continued to play with my clit, I nearly exploded.

“I’m going to fuck your ass one day. So tight and sweet, and you’ll love having me balls-deep inside you.” God, why was I so turned on by that? “Now, I’m going to fuck your pussy, and you’re going to scream.”

He placed himself at my entrance then pushed hard and deep. His hand was on the small of my back pressing me down while his other grabbed my hip, fingers digging into my flesh. His balls slapped against me as he thrust over and over again.

I was panting and arching my back while I pushed back against him.

“Come, Eme. Touch yourself.”

I did, and I within seconds I was coming and crying out as he continued to slam into me. Both hands were now holding my hips as he yanked me back into him with a fierceness that sent my orgasm into a long, drawn-out high.

“Fuck.” He suddenly stopped moving, the tips of his fingers digging into my skin as I felt his cock jerk inside me. “Jesus.”

When he slipped out of me, the syrupy warmth of Logan came with him and ran down the insides of my thighs. I was about to lie down, spent, and fully sated when he stroked my head then down my back to my ass where he caressed my ass cheeks.

“Don’t move.”

The mattress dipped as he lay down beside me and stared at me with my ass in the air, arched and body heated. After several minutes, he hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me down beside him then kissed my temple. “Your pussy is made for my cock.”

Yeah, it was. The problem was despite what we shared sexually, I knew I’d leave him without a second of hesitation if given the opportunity to escape. Maybe I had this secret hope that we’d leave together, but it was small, a fleck of dust in a tornado.

I was falling asleep, wrapped in his embrace when I definitely heard the words, “Dream sweet, Emily.”

Chapter 8

Day 11

It was morning, and Logan left me alone like he usually did when he went to train. I lay in bed, lost in my thoughts of last night when the door suddenly opened. I scrambled off the mattress and knelt on the floor my heat thumping erratically at his unexpected early appearance.

Logan shut the door.

The lock turned.

Then he came toward me. I stared at the floor, hands resting on my thighs, although resting was not a word I should associate to how I was feeling—more like reeling with uncertainty. Had I done something wrong? Why was he back earlier? My mind went over in reverse everything that happened last night. Had I called him Logan? Did I not do everything he asked?

“Up.”

I stood.

“Shower. Now.”

I walked to the washroom, and he snagged my hand before I had the chance to pull off the nightgown. It was flimsy and see-through, but it was the only clothing I was allowed, so I wore it.

“Undress me.”

I looked up at him, and I saw the darkness mixed with lust swirling in his eyes. Hesitantly, I put my hands on the edge of his T-shirt then pulled it up over his head.

“Drop it.”

I let the shirt slip from my fingers.

He waited. I was staring at his muscles that were tight and flexed. Logan didn’t have a six pack; he had an eight pack and each one was glistening.

“Emily.” His low, warning tone had me reaching for his shorts. My fingers gripped the material at his hips. “Slowly.”

I moved downward, taking his shorts with me, his cock springing free and my mouth inches away from it. I licked my lips. He watched.

“Eme.”

My breath hitched, my eyes meeting his. There was no more anger just pure unadulterated lust, and his lust was for me which turned me on more. I figured I knew what he wanted and took his cock in my hand.

I heard him inhale sharply, and he twitched in my grasp.

I went to take him in my mouth when he clutched my shoulders and shook his head. “Not now. In the shower.” He pulled me to my feet then turned on the taps and brought me in close. “Wear the nightgown.”

I stepped under the spray, the white material sticking to my skin the moment it got wet. It felt odd, like I should be taking it off, but the moment I saw Logan’s eyes, I knew it turned him on big time.

He stepped in the shower then pushed me up against the tiles, his hands grabbing my wrists and locking them in his one hand above my head. It was heated and rough and a hint of fear shot through me as I realized that he could do anything he wanted to me right now.

His mouth took mine with such force and possession that it felt like I was breathing under water. There was something more in his kiss today, as if he was starving for me. Crazed with his need and possession.

It left me weak and trembling.

His mouth broke away, and he bent down suckling my nipples through the material then biting—hard. I moaned, arching against the wall, my muscles stiffening from the pain and then relaxing into the sweetness afterward.

His body slammed into me; his hand in my soaking wet hair then roaming down the front of me as he continued to kiss me. “No other.”

He let me go then pressed on my shoulders, and I went down until I was kneeling in front of him, the spray pounding into the back of my head, dripping down my face like rain on a window pane.

He gripped his cock in his hand. “Suck me.”

As soon as I placed the tip into my mouth, his hands gripped my hair, and he groaned.

I slowly teased him with my mouth, suckling the tip, sliding down then back up again. I slipped my hand around the base and tightened at the same time as I took him to the back of my throat and sucked hard.

“Jesus. Fuck.” His hips began to move, and I relaxed the back of my throat as I took him deeper.

I pulled firmly on him with my mouth, and he shoved his hips forward as he groaned. I gagged, but didn’t stop. Neither did he as he pumped into my mouth until I felt him stiffen and stop—his cock at the back of my throat, a loud growl escaping him as he said my name.

Hot, thick liquid squirted down the back of my throat, and I swallowed as it kept coming and coming. His cum slipped from the sides of my mouth, and the water washed it away.

His cock twitched for several seconds then went still. I went to pull back, but Logan held me in place, my mouth wrapped around him, sunk deep.

“Stay.”

My jaw was sore, but I did what he wanted, my tongue slowly stroking the hot, wet surface of his cock.

“Your mouth around me ... never been so sweet.” His hands smoothed back my hair as he looked down at me, my mouth still around him as his cock slowly subsided. “Get me hard again, Eme, then I’ll fuck your pussy against the wall.”

I was so turned on; it would only take him entering me to get me off. Knowing Logan, he’d make it last until I was begging him for release.

I started suckling his cock, the softness soon becoming hard and swelling deep in my throat. He picked me up, placed me against the wall, and then ordered me to wrap my legs around his waist. I did.

He hesitated and my body was begging for him to enter me. I saw his expression harden and when he spoke it was without warmth. “Don’t ever think you’re safe with me. I fuck you because I need release, that’s all you can be to me.”

Then he pushed inside me.

Day 15

Logan’s routine was the same each day. He left me in the morning and returned at night, and we had sex. Passionate sex that made me forget, at least for a while, where we were and who he’d become. But, since those words in the shower, it had changed. Now, I kept my hope guarded. We had sex because it was what he desired and what I needed to make certain I wasn’t sold.

I never called him Logan, and he always had the control, but in a way I felt like I had it too. I saw how much he wanted me, and it gave me power. Or at least I imagined it did.

Despite that, I still felt fear rush through me every time the lock in the door turned. I was never certain if it was the girl bringing my meal or Alfonzo or Raul coming to take me away. The threat of being sold was a constant terror, and I was always on edge on whether Logan was tired of me or had changed his mind about keeping me.

Today Logan didn’t go work-out, and instead had breakfast with me then took me in the shower and washed every inch of me. I noticed the bruises on his skin and each day he looked to be getting more of them. Was his training not going well? Was there the possibility that the fighters here were better than Logan? Or maybe ... maybe the bruises were from something else? Was it possible that Logan wanted to leave here?

We came out of the shower and he picked me up, sat me on the counter and fucked me long and slow. He kissed me everywhere as if memorizing each curve and angle. It was sweet, and that smidgeon of hope rose again. I tried to smother it, afraid he’d say something to hurt me again, but it was hard to keep my emotions from reacting to his sweetness.

I knew it was dangerous thinking Logan would get us both out of here, but when he was like this, I couldn’t help it. The constant fear was exhausting and hope was all I had left. I think my mind gave me hope on purpose to keep me sane. If I lost hope then I’d lose myself.

He left me for several hours and returned at dusk with an outfit in hand. I knew what it was for. Tonight was his fight. He’d told me he was fighting against a guy who’d never been defeated. He also told me there was a big dinner party planned afterward. One that would be like the first time I’d entered Raul’s compound.

He laid the outfit, or lack of, on the bed then held out his hand, a piece of jewellery hanging from his fingers. It was just like what I’d seen the other girls wear—a collar. “Come here, Emily.”

I rose and walked toward him, my heart pounding as I stared at the silver necklace.

“Turn around.” I did. “This will protect you from the other men. You belong to me. They will know that.” He pushed my hair aside then reached around, and I felt the coldness of the collar as it settled on my skin. “There’s things you won’t want to see tonight.” I put my hand up and touched the intricate silver links that weaved around my neck. It was beautiful and yet ... this place and the meaning the collar represented made it ugly. He turned me around and placed his hand under my chin. “You must submit completely to me. If you do anything ...” His hand dropped, and he strode away and began pacing back and forth across the room, his hands shoved inside his front pockets. It was rare Logan looked uneasy and perturbed. He was always steady and certain of himself.

He looked different tonight—nervous. Could he be worried that he’d be defeated? “You must do exactly as I tell you.”

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