“You drove for three hours? To take me to the beach?” I’m still incredulous.
Logan just shrugs. “So let’s enjoy it.”
Now I’m speechless. But he’s already out of the truck, popping his seat and pulling things out of the small compartment behind it. Beach towels. A full backpack. Our lunch.
I only realize that I’m still sitting there, stunned, when he glances my way and smirks. “You just gonna sit there or you coming?”
I shove my door open and hop out of the car.
By the time I come around to him, he’s pulling things out of the backpack.
“Here, there’s some bathrooms over there where you can go change.” He hands me a bag.
I grab it and look inside. Holy crap, he bought me a bathing suit. I pull it out excitedly…until I realize it’s a one-piece, and not just a one-piece, but one that looks like it was designed a hundred years ago. It even has a little skirt at the bottom. Does he think I’m five?
I glance over to where he said I could change. It’s a sunny day in mid-summer and the beach is buzzing with people. And right beside the restrooms is a little shop.
I smile breezily up at Logan. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go find us a place on the beach,” he says.
“Perfect.”
He walks me to the bathrooms, then continues on to the beach. I wait until he’s out of sight, then duck inside the small shop.
They don’t have a huge selection of bikinis, but I find one that will do. It’s bright red and while it covers the important bits, it also shows plenty of skin. After I buy it along with some flip-flops, I change in the bathroom. But I only dare a few seconds of looking at myself in the mirror.
I’ve never worn anything so skimpy in my entire life. And I’m going to go spend the day with Logan in this thing?
Maybe I should abandon ship and just put on the swimsuit he brought for me.
But then I hold up the shapeless, dark, unflattering thing, and with one last glance in the mirror at all my curves on display in the red bikini, toss the other swimsuit in the trash and head out the door.
Confident. Wear the swimsuit, don’t let the swimsuit wear you.
The only way Logan will ever start to see me as a woman is if I act like one. But crap, how do women act? I don’t know any women other than Mom, and she’s so sick…
I blink away the thought. Gods, it’s horrible, but for one day I want to just be a girl at the beach with a cute guy. It’s a terrible thought to have. I’m a terrible person for having it.
By then I’ve walked down the little path and I see Logan in the distance. He’s standing with his hand over his eyes looking my way. He doesn’t realize it’s me until I get really close, though. Understandably, since he’s looking for a dowdy girl in that terrible swimsuit.
When I wave and he finally realizes that I’m the one walking up to him, red bikini and all, he does a double take. And then he swallows really hard.
“What are you wearing?” he demands in a voice harsher than I’ve ever heard from him.
It makes me bite my lip for a second, but then I straighten my spine.
“I’m supposed to get Vitamin D, right? I can’t do that if I’m all covered up. I picked this up at the little shop.”
He looks away towards the ocean, his jaw tensing so hard, I can see a vein on his neck popping out. He gives a single sharp nod.
Things are tense for a few moments as I settle myself on the towel beside him. He sits at the furthest edge of the towel from me, half on the sand. And he won’t look at me.
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 l
ater, 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.
Craning my neck, I open my mouth for the bite. The Beast places the pastry right in my mouth and taps my chin to signal his permission for me to eat. Blushing hot, I chew and swallow my breakfast, naked at Master’s feet.
“Well done, pet,” Master says, flicking crumbs off his fingers. Pet. My pussy clenches as he feeds me more bites. “You have a long way to go. But it’s a start.”
“So, I’m going to get clothes today?” I ask when my stomach is satisfied. I think I ask it more to challenge him than because I want them. It’s the devil inside me. The same one that made me buy that red bikini at the beach that day so long ago. I’ve missed her.
“What makes you think you’re entitled to them?”
“I thought I was earning back my company’s patents, not the right to basic human privileges.”
His fists clench when I mention the patents. “All your privileges will be earned. Remember, I control you. I own you.”
Sensation stirs in my lower belly, a ripple of desire. To hide my reaction, I look to the fire. “But—”
Logan captures my chin and turns me to face him. “Careful. I have a lovely ball gag you could wear.”
I wrinkle my nose. Would he really? Well, in for a patent, in for a pound. And anyway, if he did, would I…like it? The thing I’ve started to realize is that being submissive doesn’t mean being docile.
If anything, it’s allowing me to get in touch with my most base, animal self. If he gagged me, I’d snarl and roar and fight and he’d have to restrain me and maybe he’d clamp me again or do something else even more intense, maybe even pierce me, though I can’t imagine an orgasm any more intense than yesterday’s—
He chuckles, releasing me and distracting me from my tumultuous thoughts. “You think you have a choice. You have none. All your choices are mine.” He snaps his fingers again, summoning me to a spot between his knees. “Now come. I wish to inspect you.”
I raise my chin. “Why?”
His voice is a dangerous rumble. “It’s enough that I wish it.”
I can’t forget who I’m playing with. Logan isn’t just any Master. I rise and stand before him, my slender body braced by his powerful thighs. The stubble on his face is thicker today. Is he growing a beard? Trying to cover his scars? He’s still wearing the mask. His shield. I miss his face. His icy blue eyes tell me nothing.
But the way he’s rubbing his right thumb and forefinger together tells me everything. He wants to touch me.
The question is, why is he holding back?
“Turn around,” he rasps. I pivot smoothly, tightening my muscles to still my trembling. Knowing that he wants me splashes gasoline on the fire of my arousal. The skin of my back and buttocks prickles as if his gaze is a caress.
“Hands and knees.”
My heart drops to the carpet but I don’t dare question him. What’s in store today? I lower myself down to all fours.
His hand glides down my back and applies pressure to the center of my shoulders until I lower my front half to the floor. My cheek hits the scratchy Turkish rug. I study the rich red and navy pattern and try not to picture Logan leaning forward in his chair, peering straight at my pussy.
Except that’s exactly what he does. Of course he does. The chair creaks and hot breath hits my buttocks. Oh gods. He’s inspecting me. Thoroughly. Admiring his handiwork? The decorations the leather crop left on my skin? My sex spasms even at the memories.
By the time he put me to bed last night, I was so out of it, I barely remember him washing and rubbing cream into my sore bits. But I know he did. Though my body still bears some marks, the sting has faded. The lingering achiness is mostly from my muscles clenching as he teased me to the brink—and the cataclysm that was my orgasm.
An orgasm I sorely need. Again. I don’t need the Scientific Method to tell me wherever Logan is concerned, I’m a simmering pot of arousal. Even when he’s wielding evil clamps with metal teeth. His torture only turns me on a million times more. I had no idea I would or even could cum from so much pain.
Why? Maybe, on some level, I feel I deserve it? The pain is absolution, the pleasure a benediction. The punishment scours me clean. Enduring the trials, I earn what I need. But that’s somehow…freeing. Even in humiliation and the pleasure it brings, I’m not embarrassed. I’m finally free.
“Reach back, pet, and spread your cheeks for me.”
What?
I hesitate too long because Logan’s tone drops a thousand degrees. “Did I not make myself clear?”
Shit! I wriggle my arms free and reach back, hissing as I grab a handful of tender flesh in each palm. But it’s not the pain, it’s the humiliation, knowing he’s looking at me right there—
Something cool hits my asshole. And now he’s touching me, spreading what must be slippery lube all over the dark whorl of my back hole. He even probes the tight ring of muscle, making my lower belly flip with the wrongness of the sensation.
My hands release my cheeks and I squeeze them shut.
“Ahh, and you w
ere doing so well.” Logan murmurs. There’s a rustle I don’t have time to wonder about because I’m too busy stopping myself from running screaming from the room. I guess wallflower, hide-in-the-corner Daphne is still there inside me after all.
“Rise and face me,” Logan orders in his deep Master voice.
Thank fuck. I shoot off the floor and whirl, sending my hair whipping over my front. Sure enough, Logan is holding a silver bulb with a generous amount of lube smeared at the tip.
“You were so pretty last night in your clamps, I’ve decided to add to your uniform.” He tilts it and a hint of green winks from the base. “Green was always your color.”
Of course he got me an emerald jeweled butt plug.
I swallow. I’ve never ever had anything up my butt. He promised it when I was here before, but we never got around to it…
Somehow I find my voice. It’s squeaky but it works. “How many patents will you give me if I let you put that in?” I’m that girl on the beach. Brazen in her red bikini. Taking control of my own life. Of my own pleasure.
I’m not sure what’s been happening these past few weeks, but I’m not letting go without a fight. Going back and having Adam steamroll over me…no, letting him steamroll over me. I can’t be that girl anymore. I need to be someone new. It’s time to grow the hell up.
But Logan’s not about to let any defiance go unchallenged. He raises a thick brow. “Let me? Oh pet, you are mistaken. I won’t be putting this in.”
A rush of relief roars in my ears. Over the sound, I say, “No?”
“No. But it’s going in.” He sends me plummeting back to Earth. “Question is: will you insert it before or after your punishment?”
* * *
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing with my nose to the oak-paneled wall, staring at the honey grain. It feels like a lifetime. My ass throbs from the spanking Master gave me. My pussy is wet and my brain is torn.
Are my nipples hard from the cold or the humiliation of being told to stand in silence after punishment like a chastised child? Add to the indignity the unyielding metal butt plug stretching my virgin hole.
Beauty and the Thorns Page 5