Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 107508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Eme,” he murmured as my fingers curled around him then stroked every inch of him.
His penis was throbbing and hot, and as I caressed, his eyes closed, and his head tilted back as he groaned.
“Stop. Fuck. I’m going to come before I’m even inside you.” He grabbed his cock and rubbed it between my legs, the wetness clinging to him. “I’ll go slow, Mouse.”
My hand reached up to lock my fingers in his hair. “No, go fast. Just get that part over with.”
“No.” His voice was hard and firm. “You’re going to remember this and not with pain.” His mouth descended as he sunk lower, his cock nudging my opening.
Wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his back, I pressed upward with my hips, and the tip pressed against my barrier. I couldn’t get him in any further, and my body was aching so bad I was going to scream.
He tore his mouth away from mine and grabbed my chin. “Look at me, Emily. I want to see you when I take you. I want to watch you while you scream my name.”
“Logan.”
He pushed his hips forward and moved in me a little further. I could feel him stretching my hymen, and I was sure he could too. He gripped my chin to make certain I didn’t move then rotated his hips and withdrew, and I moaned.
“Slow, Eme.”
He moved inside me again, and this time he kept going until I felt a sudden sharp pain as if he’d stabbed me.
Fuck. Shit. It hurt.
And yet ... him erect and full inside me was ... it was so connecting and surreal. As if we’d become one.
He leaned in and kissed me while he was sunk deep inside. A slow languished kiss that had me forgetting about the pain and instead filling me with a new urgency. I wanted him to move.
“Logan.” God, I needed him to move. I pushed upward, and he sunk even deeper. Yes, God yes.
“You good?”
The tenderness was overridden by the aching need. I nodded, and he began to move. I clenched my legs around him, ankles crossed on his back, both of us panting, our eyes locked on one another.
“You’re mine, Emily.” He moved harder, faster, and I tried to close my eyes, but he grabbed my chin. “Look at me.”
Each push brought us closer; I was on edge, ready, the ache heightened to a place it could go no further. He pressed his hips in an upward motion so he rubbed against my clit, and a jolt went through me, then another and another. The intense building inside was too much.
He pressed harder.
“Oh God. Logan. Logan.” I let go, my eyes squeezing shut. “Logan!” I screamed as everything in my body exploded into tiny bursts.
“Emily.” He pumped harder, the smack of flesh on flesh loud. He thrust deeper. Then he took my mouth with an insane hunger as his body stopped pumping, and his muscles tightened while his body shook.
“Mouse.” He fell to the side and brought me with him so I was snug to his chest, my legs tangled within his. “Emily. You’re a fuckin’ trophy. My trophy.”
I closed my eyes, head resting on his chest next to my hand.
He leaned upward and kissed my head while his hand stroked up and down my arm. His other hand linked with my fingers on his chest.
“Logan?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Um, someone is watching us.”
Logan looked up, and we both started laughing as the appaloosa stared down at us.
2 days later
Day 1
I woke up lying on a damp cement floor.
I sat up and immediately wished I hadn’t when my head ignited into throbbing, pressurized chaos. The room spun, and my vision blurred for the first few minutes as I tried to piece together what happened.
Then everything came flooding back like a tsunami. The bar. Logan getting ready to sing with his band. Kat telling me how gorgeous I looked. Going to the washroom and hurrying, because I didn’t want to miss Logan on stage for a single second.
Then an arm hooked around my waist just as I placed my palm on the bathroom door. A sweet-smelling rag was shoved over my nose and mouth.
Then nothing.
Oh, God.
Fear catapulted into me. It was like being zipped up tight in a sleeping bag with no escape. I was suffocating, couldn’t breathe. I felt pins and needles in my limbs as the fear became the stepping stone to a full-out panic attack. Shivers racked my body, and I started hyperventilating. Tears streamed down my cheeks then dripped onto my collar bone and slid into the material of my dress.
My dress. The one I picked out for Logan, agonized about for hours at the store with Kat. I wanted to look beautiful for him, and me looking beautiful was a hard task considering I never felt beautiful. It was something I lived with and accepted after years of hearing my mother tell me I was ugly.
But with Logan ... Even if I wasn’t pretty, he made me feel that way. He made me feel protected and cared for, and it was because I trusted him. He knew what I needed even if I didn’t. There was this natural desire to give up my control to him, not so he could use it against me. No, it was so he could give me what I needed. And what I needed right now was Logan.
Rolling over I crawled to my knees, and my stomach objected to the movement. I slapped my hand over my mouth and made it to the corner of the room where I vomited the two beers I’d had at the bar then dry-heaved several times until my sides cramped.
When I finally stopped, I breathed in the smell of stale urine, and my stomach reeled again, and I gagged. I put my head down, taking several deep breaths through my mouth while I leaned my hands against the wall for support.
I knew I was in a basement, and it was dark outside. I could see a single beam of moonlight streaming in from a small window high up on the far wall. The damp cellar was small and completely empty except for a wooden staircase that had a railing that looked like it would crumble the moment you put your hand on it. The walls were greenish tinged on the bottom half as if the basement had at one time been flooded.