19
Lia
Irealize I should get some sleep. Sleep is the only thing, at this point, that can help.
Because how the hell am I going to figure out how to escape Logan Colt if my brain can’t work?
And yet, I can’t do a thing but lie in bed, clutching my girl’s hand as she sleeps in her crib.
Maybe I shouldn’t have lied to him about the rape. Maybe he would have helped me if he’d known.
But I just couldn’t bear to see the way he looked at me. Or rather, the way he didn’t. It was just too hard to know that he probably saw me as ruined. A disgusting whore who let herself get violated.
I guess I do care what he thinks of me. I care a whole fucking lot.
Maybe I am manipulative—he’s right about that. I’m nothing but a liar, but I’d do a lot more than lie to get him to look at me normally again. Even though normal, for him, is so cruel.
Goddammit, I’m so fucked up. He sure reminded me of that tonight. I’ve been getting attached to my captor. That’s what he is—my captor.
And I’m his captive. His prisoner.
It took those harsh words for me to remember it.
Now, I need to figure out how to escape.
_
By the time I drift off, the first rays of sun are already piercing through the sky. I must sleep deeply, because when I open my eyes again, the little hand hooked around mine is missing.
It takes me a moment to remember it had been there. Another moment for me to look into the crib. A third to realize it’s empty.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
I jump up from the bed, grabbing the sheet and whipping it around my naked form, before dashing outside.
“Aurora!” I shriek. “Aurora!”
I run around the building, calling her name desperately, only to come to an abrupt halt.
Relief floods me as I see her toddling in the grass, running after a ball. Relief, tinged with fear when I notice the person sitting just a few feet away. Logan.
What the fuck?
He hasn’t heard me walk up, and his entire focus is on her.
“Big girl,” he croons. “Look at you run!”
“Piggyback ride!” sing-songs Aurora, toddling up to him, her arms spread out. “Want a piggyback ride!”
“Uh uh. We have a long car trip ahead, baby. You’re gonna be sitting all day. Gotta stretch those legs. Come on, let’s play again. Catch the ball!”
I stare at him as he talks to her, my mouth hanging open.
Am I dreaming?
He looks exactly like a doting father, his face smoothed of all frown lines as he rolls the ball gently toward her. In the cheerful sunlight, it’s hard to remember his cruel words from last night.
In fact, I have to force myself to remember them.
I must have made noise, because a moment later, he whips his eyes away from Aurora and fixes them on me. And suddenly, the dangerous man is back.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hisses.
“Uhm… uh… I was looking for…” I finish my sentence in a whisper, incapable of doing anything but quake under his furious glare. “... Aurora.”
God, I could kick myself. It pisses me off so much that I’m giving in to my fear.
Fuck him!
He stands up and walks toward me.
“Well, she’s here. So get the fuck back inside and put something on.” He lowers his voice and adds, “Whore.”
I’ve gotten called worse, and yet that word, after everything that’s happened yesterday, makes me go ballistic.
“Asshole! Fucking asshole!”
I don’t even realize I’m dropping my sheet on the ground, stark-naked as I close the distance between us to raise my hands and shove at his chest.
The moment I do, I realize that was not a good idea. If he looked dangerous before, it’s nothing compared to the way he glares at me now.
Slowly, he takes the sheet from the ground and wraps it around me. Then, keeping his cold eyes on me, he calls out, “Everest! Get out here!”
Moments later, the Ken-doll emerges from the building and walks leisurely toward us. But when he notes Logan’s expression, he walks faster.
“Babysit,” is the one word Logan spits at him before locking his hand around my wrist and giving me a hard tug.
“What are you doing?” I gasp as I stumble after him, trying to keep my sheet wrapped around myself.
He doesn’t answer, merely stalking over to the motel room and pulling me inside. Then he locks the door behind me.
“Logan!” I insist. “What is this?”
“Don’t you fucking say my name,” he growls. “Turn the fuck around. Lie down on the bed. Stomach down.”
Okay. I take deep breaths, willing my heart to stop racing. I know what this is. He’s not going to hurt me, he’s going to fuck me. I want that.
But I’ve never seen him look like this.
Shaking, I lie down, facing away from him, panicked thoughts invading my brain even as the wetness between my legs grows.
Why isn’t he taking off my sheet? Why isn’t he touching me?
I shiver as I feel him draw near, the warmth of his presence sending goosebumps pebbling over my skin. I shift from side to side, then bite down on a gasp when I feel his hand on my upper thigh through the sheet.
“What… what are you going to do?” I stammer.
I let out a choked cry when he bends down to my ear and whispers, “I’m going to punish you.”
My heart has never raced so hard. I remember what he said before. When I punish you, you’ll know it.
Fuck! Why did I shove him? Why am I not shoving him now?
Why am I letting this asshole intimidate me?
Forcing myself to keep it together, I lash out, “Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?”
He grabs one end of the sheet and pulls, leaving me very suddenly naked.
I bite down on my lip, so hard my teeth tear through the skin, and wait for whatever comes next.
I nearly jump out of my skin again when his hand once more grazes my thigh.
Okay. Easy, Lia. He’s only trying to scare you. He’s going to have sex with you now.
“I’m going to spank you,” he breathes.
Oh... fuck.
My ass is still tender from all his ‘non-punishment’ spankings. I’m not so sure I want to find out what the real thing looks like.
The strangled noise that escapes my lips must sound a little too much like a nervous laugh, because I can feel him stiffen behind me.
“Think it’s funny, huh?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to tell him I don’t, but unable to say a word.
“Think I don’t have it in me to hurt you?”
I lick my dry lips helplessly as he strokes up and down my thigh with one finger.
“What do you think of me, hmm, Lia? Think I’m pathetic? Weak? A loser? Isn’t that what you used to call me? Loser?”
I shake my head furiously.
“Oh, really? You don’t remember calling me that?”
His finger now starts up the same stroking pattern on the other thigh, from my knee to the place where my ass meets my thigh, and back. It’s soft and feels good, and yet, it doesn’t relax me. I sense all his threat, all his danger, in the feather-light touch.
“I do remember,” I whisper, as he continues his maddening torture. “I’m sorry, Logan.”
“Hmm. The problem, Lia, is that I don’t believe you. You’re naughty, and I’m going to punish you.”
“I’m not a kid,” I force out, unwilling to give in to the fear that’s beating down on my chest.
The deep chuckle that leaves his lips feels even more dangerous than his touch, but somehow, it has my stomach clenching.
“I’m not going to spank you like a kid. I’m going to spank you like a grown woman. And it’s going to hurt, Lia.”
I don’t doubt his words for a second. I try and fail to swallow, my throat as parched as my lips.
He lifts his hand up and I wince, bracing for contact. But then he pauses. “If it hurts too much,” he murmurs, his voice softer than before, “red still counts. It always counts. I’ll stop.” Another beat, and then, “I can always find some other way to hurt you.”
He doesn’t give me time to brace again before his hand falls hard on my ass.
Fuck!
He wasn’t kidding when he said it would hurt.
I try to keep my cry in my throat, but as his hand descends again and again, each blow a hot iron that makes my nerves explode, loud strangled yelps escape my lips.
Any awareness of how obscene I must look in my stomach-down, ass up position, quickly fades and I squirm desperately under his hand, revealing every part of me, frantically trying to wriggle away.
In vain. He grabs my wrists and pins them to my back, sitting down on my knees, and the way he’s got me trapped is so much more embarrassing than before. My legs are parted, and I just know he sees the wetness that incomprehensibly gathers as his hand assaults my flesh.
By the time he pauses, tears are streaming down my cheeks, and my whole body aches from trying to escape him.
“Is it red, Lia?” he murmurs.
Yes, yes, yes!
“No!” I gasp.
“No?” he chuckles in disbelief.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Surely it’s only pride that kept me from using the safe word, and yet, I can’t deny the way my body is reacting as he continues to slam his hand down on my bottom.
I can’t deny the cause of the wetness. I can’t deny the way I want him to stop, not because I’m in pain, but because I need his hands somewhere else.
His hands, or better yet, his mouth, his cock.
Seriously, what the fuck?
When at last he lets up, I’m far too exhausted and in pain to try to make sense of anything. I can only lie still, panting hard, as he lays a gentle hand on one of my burning cheeks.
He doesn’t speak for a while, his palm stroking my bottom and thighs, the way his fingers did before.
Only now, his touch doesn’t send alarm bells ringing through my body.
I’ve been reduced to a helpless pile of pure need, and I arch my bottom into his hand, willing him to keep soothing me.
And then to bring his fingers to my core, to ease my frustration.
But no matter how I arch toward him, he seems intent on avoiding that part of me.
“Are you going to be my good girl now, Lia?” he says in a strained voice.
“Yes, Logan,” I sob. “Yes.”
As I emerge little by little from my haze, I feel his stiffness against my thigh.
“Please,” I add, “touch me there. Please.”
At once, his hand leaves my ass, and the softness in his voice gives way to coldness. “I’m not going to pleasure you, Lia,” he says quietly. “This is a punishment. Now, get up. I have to take you to your husband.”
I let out a strangled whimper, but he ignores it.
He stands up, and I hear his footsteps as he turns and walks toward the door. “Get dressed, Lia. We have a long trip ahead of us.”
He shuts the door behind him, leaving me in far greater pain than during his punishment.