A few minutes later, the vibrator turned back on.
And just before she came, it clicked off. Again. And on. And off.
At some point, she realized Jake had left.
On. Off
. Her body trembled continuously. If her hands had been free, she would have attacked Logan. Everything throbbed painfully. Past painfully. If she could only come… She shifted, trying to rub the vibrator more against her clit, just a—
“If you move, I add more time.” His voice deep, even. No emotion.
What kind of emotion would he have when she killed him dead? When she strung his guts from the trees and—
When the vibrator stopped, she couldn't keep the moan back, let alone the tears that spilled from her closed eyes. She shook so hard, she wasn't sure she'd ever stop.
Callused hands closed on each side of her face, the warmth startling. “Eyes on me, Becca.”
She looked up, her vision blurry from tears. His face was still cold, mean. She didn't like him this way.
“When under command, who do you obey, Becca?” His words seemed to cut through her.
“You,” she whispered, adding a hasty “Sir” when his jaw tightened.
“Do you need to worry or think about anything when I'm in control?”
“No, Sir.”
“What is left for that head of yours to do, then, sugar?”
Her mind blanked. If he had all the control, and she didn't think, what was left?
“Just feel, Becca. That's all that's left.”
The shock rolling through her was as overwhelming as the whole evening had been. No power, no control, no need to worry or think. All she had left was what she'd just experienced. Sensation. The trembling increased inside her, and she closed her eyes.
He walked behind her and unsnapped her cuffs. After bringing her arms forward, he leaned her back against his legs, and his strong hands massaged the ache out of her shoulders. Her hands in her lap shook almost as violently as her emotions. From feeling so vulnerable to being cared for; she couldn't keep up. She didn't want to keep up.
Her eyes opened when he lifted her into his arms. She looked at him, his jaw a rigid line, his neck all corded muscle, and she felt fragile, and even more, safe in his embrace.
He carried her to his bed and laid her on her stomach. She turned her head to watch him.
Standing close, he stroked her hair. “Punishment's over. You did well, Becca. I'm pleased with you.” His smile of approval warmed the coldness inside her.
Gripping her hips, he tilted her onto her knees, head on the mattress, and buckled on ankle cuffs. Pulling her arms around, he clipped each wrist cuff to an ankle cuff, restraining her in that position. A shudder went through her as she realized he wasn't through with her.
When he removed the vibrator, she almost screamed as just the movement inside shot her straight back into arousal. His fingers circled her clit, sliding in the wetness. She whimpered as the nub tightened unbearably. “All red and swollen,” he murmured. “Just right.”
She shook her head, tears blurring her eyes again.
Cupping her cheek, he kissed her gently. “What, Becca? What's wrong?”
“I can't do it again. Please don't…not again.”
A crease appeared in his cheek even as heat grew in his eyes. “We won't stop this time, and you're going to come so hard that the swingers will hear you in their cabins.”
He stripped completely, and her eyes widened as his cock sprang out, long and thick. He wrapped his hand around it at the base. “You weren't the only one suffering, sweetie.”
After sheathing himself in a condom, he knelt behind her and pressed his chest against her back. His body felt heavy and warm. The gentle bobbing of his cock against her folds made her jump.
His hand slid down her stomach, over her mound, and then his fingers slid in circles around her core. She moaned as the excruciating tightness increased. His cock pressed against her opening, up and down, slickening with her wetness, teasing her opening.
Then he ruthlessly pinched her sensitive clit even as he thrust his thick cock up into her.
She screamed as every stymied climax tore through her at once. Her eyes blinded, she arched. Explosion after explosion ripped her body into pieces with exquisite, terrifying pleasure.
His fingers released her as he slid his cock in and out. She spasmed around the hard length, and another wave of pleasure rippled through her. Her heart hammered inside her chest so brutally, it felt close to bursting. Somehow the air in the room had disappeared. She gasped for air.
Wrapping an arm around her stomach, he started into the merciless, driving rhythm she was becoming used to.
Only somehow it seemed more intense. As his pelvis pressed against her bottom, she realized why. He'd left that plug in her. Every thrust inside her moved it slightly, filled her fuller, and sent odd feelings thrumming through her. Sensations she didn't know. Ones she didn't want to like…but she did. Oh God, she did.
She was so hot and wet, he wanted to just bury himself deep and let himself come. But he had one more thing to accomplish. So he throttled himself down, moving his cock in and out very, very slowly, giving her a chance to recover. But damn, she'd better recover fast. This position was hell on a man's control.
Trying to divert himself, he slid his hand beneath her breasts. God, they were gorgeous, so full they spilled over his hand, and her nipples so sensitive that any tug on the clamps made her pussy clench around him.
Gradually he angled himself so his cock would hit harder over her G-spot. He grinned when she stiffened. Apparently he'd hit the right spot, one as sensitive as her breasts.
Obviously forgetting her restraints, she moaned and tried to move, halted by the cuffs. Her vagina clenched around him as she realized her vulnerability. Her iron control was in tatters, her will given over to him, even as her body was his.
He pushed her legs farther apart to emphasize her helplessness and saw her hands close into fists.
Fists
. He hadn't reached the naked core of her submission yet. Gripping the chains of the breast clamps, he tugged gently with each thrust. Reading her and responding accordingly, pushing her toward pure sensation and submission even as he drove her body to climax, reminded him of how Beethoven's symphonies ended when all the parts came together in the finale.
She slowly tightened around him. Her thighs, widely apart, trembled like aspen leaves in a winter wind, but the restraints kept her legs from giving out. She was close.
Pushing back to a kneeling position, he slid his hand down her stomach to her pussy, anchoring her in place and putting pressure on her distended clit at the same time. With the other hand, he grasped the slender butt plug in her vulnerable little ass. He wiggled it, increasing the sensation, increasing her submission.
Her whole body quivered in shock, and she made an indescribable noise. Her hips jerked, inadvertently rubbing her swollen nub against his restraining hand. She whimpered, yielding to the pleasure.
To him
. Only a Dom could know and appreciate this rushing sense of power.
He thrust with his cock and slid the soft plug out; he pulled his cock out and pushed the plug in. Her legs turned rigid, her back arching, thrusting her bottom up higher. As he continued, her silky pussy clamped down on him, tighter and tighter, and seconds later she convulsed, wailing her climax in short cries that corresponded with each rippling spasm of her vagina. Fuck, he loved her unrestrained response, and even more, that she needed restraints to get there.
The tight milking sensation around his cock grew until he couldn't stand it anymore. He seated the butt plug firmly inside her, grasped her hips with both hands, and pounded into her. His own climax boiled up and out of him like a volcano, the fire coming from deep within and shooting through him.
When he could breathe again, he released the clips holding her wrists to her ankles and toppled them both over, pulling her up against him so her back rested against his chest. He was still embedded deep inside her. Would that he could stay there forever. Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in her silky hair. God, he enjoyed having a soft, shuddering sub in his arms.
And this soft little sub had just gifted him with a depth of response that awed him. Such a change from her assertiveness during the day. Damn, he liked that. Liked her cheerful personality—even at breakfast, for which she should be shot. And the way she petted Thor, even when he scared her. The way she smiled when she saw a doe and fawn. The way her big green eyes had looked at him when she gave him her wrists.
He wanted
this
soft little sub, and he wanted his collar around her neck. God help him.
* * * * *
“Logan!”
Hands shook him, tiny hands. He grabbed the soldier's arms. Soft, round. The voice wasn't right, high, using his name. He blinked and saw big green eyes, pale skin with freckles, pink, pink lips. He forced his hands to loosen. “Becca.” His voice sounded like he'd scraped it raw.
“Are you awake now?” She smoothed his hair back from his sweaty face. “That sounded like one nasty nightmare.”
His breath huffed out. “Yeah.” His hands tightened on her shoulders, red still staining the edges of his vision. What had he done? Had he hit her? “Are you all right?”
“Well, sure. I wasn't the one having a nightmare.” She pushed out of his arms and trotted into the bathroom; the last two burning candles glinted off her pale skin.
He sighed, his insides churning worse now that present-day horror had been added. God, how could he have fallen asleep? He could have—
“Here.” An arm under his shoulders urged him up. He took the glass she gave him and stared at it.