Lia
Iguess I do deserve happiness, after all.
Well, maybe I don’t really deserve it. But somehow, I have it.
I’ve found the soft, sweet boy of my youth again. I see it in his eyes when he cooks us dinner, or reads Aurora a bedtime story, or strokes my hair while I lie on the couch beside him, watching old movies on the tiny television in the living room.
The day after we got here, he went down to the nearby village and brought back three bags stuffed with toys, dolls, puppets, books, play-doh, and markers for Aurora.
It’s hard to realize that this man who should by rights hate the living proof of the pain I caused him, acts more like a father than Aurora’s own dad ever did.
But everything changed the moment I let those words slip. I love you. And now, with each passing moment, the threat of Carmelo seems to grow more vague.
It’s never farther from my mind than during my favorite moment of the day, when I lie in bed with Aurora until she falls asleep, while Logan hums quietly beside us.
Often, I end up falling asleep before she does.
I wake up to him carrying me to bed. Then he takes out my contact lenses and even brushes my teeth so I don’t have to get up.
When I try to protest, he tells me I deserve at least this, since he’s the reason I’m so tired.
That’s definitely true, and if he’s soft and sweet during the day, he’s anything but at night.
Which I’m secretly thankful for, because I’ve come to terms with the fact that his cruelty does something to me.
I like being tortured to tears, and I like that my tears make him hard.
I don’t know what that says about us—nothing good, probably—but I’ve come to accept it. Not just accept it, but embrace it.
Thank god the living room and the kitchen separate us from Aurora’s and Dolores’ bedrooms. The walls are thick, and I’ve tested it—they can’t hear us.
I mean, I guess they could hear me if I screamed. I do my very best to muffle my screams at night, but all bets are off in the afternoon, when Dolores takes Aurora out to play.
Thank god for Dolores, too. We’ve found the perfect balance between family life and time alone. I know that wouldn’t be possible without her. Damien never struck me as being particularly thoughtful, but I guess I can thank him for that. I don’t know how we’d manage if it weren’t for her.
She takes care of the house so well that it leaves me enough time to figure out how to piss Logan off.
And the more pissed off he is, the better it is when we’re alone.
Today, he’s looking pretty pissed off as he stands in front of me, his hands folded. I’m glad Dolores decided to take a long trip with Aurora to the village, because I have a feeling we’re going to need all that distance at least.
He looks like he has every intention of pulling every single scream out of me he can.
“Remember what I told you would happen last time?”
I do remember, and I eye the bathroom with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
“I barely cursed you out, Logan. I mean, I don’t think asshole counts. Don’t they allow that in PG-13 movies? Anyway, it’s become second nature to me, so—”
His mouth twitches, and for a moment, he looks like he’s struggling with the desire not to laugh. But then he rakes his eyes up and down my naked body, and the humor in his face is replaced by a dangerous cruelty that makes me shiver.
“It does count. No more swearing at me, brat.”
Before I’ve had time to register a thing, he’s lifted me up and tossed me over his shoulder. I let out a surprised yelp, which he rewards with a stinging smack, before dropping me beside the bathtub.
“Open up.”
“Logan!”
“Open up, brat.”
Grumbling, I do as he says, but I can tell I don’t fool him. He glances down at my legs, squeezed together, and smirks.
Then he grabs a basket of new soap bars from under the sink, and my eyes widen.
“What the fuck? When the hell did you get all of those?”
“That’s two more swear words, brat.”
“Hell doesn’t count!” I huff.
“Pretty sure your daddy wouldn’t agree about that. And I had to load up, because I had a feeling it would take a few lessons for the no cursing thing to stick.” Grabbing one of the soaps, he turns on the faucet and lathers it up. “Now, behave, brat, and open up.”
I open my mouth again, though at first, it’s only to let loose another volley of curses. But when he turns around and I spot the menacing glint in his eyes, the words melt off my tongue.
I shiver, part scared, fully turned on.
“Tongue out. Keep still.”
Face flaming, I obey, feeling an awful lot like I’m at the doctor. That is, if the doctor were a sadist with a wet soap in his hand.
I forget all about keeping my mouth open when he brings the soap to my tongue and I taste the bitterness. Turning away, I spit into the bathroom.
Sighing, he fists my hair and pulls me back around.
“Let’s try that again, ghost girl. Behave, or it will be a thousand times worse. Now open your mouth.”
I don’t doubt him for a second, although I have no idea what worse entails. And I kind of want to find out.
“No,” I say, keeping my lips firmly pressed together.
He chuckles, leaning against me, and I feel his cock swell against my stomach. It makes me even wetter to know that he’s just as turned on by my brattiness as I am.
“No? I’m going to make you regret that, brat.”
He brings a hand up to my cheeks, pinching them and forcing my mouth open. Then, before I can shut it again, he pushes the wet soap bar through my parted lips. I gag, struggling backward, but he wraps a firm arm around me and begins to pump the soap into my mouth, filling it with suds.
“Fffmmmph!” I cough out, trying and failing to get my breath, the soap bubbles choking me.
“That’s right, brat,” he rasps in my ear, “cry for me.”
I soon realize I’m doing just that, tears leaking from my eyes as I try to take the soap in my mouth. He’s just as vicious with it as he is when he fucks my mouth with his cock, each pump reaching the back of my throat.
By the time he pauses, I’m a spluttering mess, my face wet from my tears and the soap lather. It gets into my eyes, causing them to sting, and I realize I’m glad Logan took out my contacts before he started this punishment.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises, licking and kissing away my tears. “That’s my very good girl. Bite, Lia.”
The praise makes me just as wet as the scolding did, just as wet, too, as the soaping—I never thought I would get turned on by being made to suck on such a disgusting, bitter thing, but here we are.
All the brattiness has been soaped right out of me, though.
I bite down obediently, and he rewards me with more praise.
I drink it in hungrily, so focused on his words and on the feel of his arm still wrapped around me, having gone from cruel to comforting in a heartbeat, that I don’t notice his other hand reaching back to turn on the bathtub faucet.
That is, until he flips me over. My eyes widen when the tip of my nose touches water. Why the hell did he fill up the bathtub so much?
He runs his fingers up and down my spine, causing me to moan, his free hand positioning me so that I’m fully bent over the side of the bathtub with my thighs spread. My nose is far too close to the water for comfort. I shiver, my stomach clenching when I start to understand what he’s got planned.
“If it’s too much for you, baby, tap the side of the bathtub,” he murmurs, and I suddenly feel something cool and wet against my asshole.
Then I hear his fly unzip and a moment later, his cock nudges against my bottom.
“But whatever you do, ghost girl, don’t let go of that soap. Now hold your breath.”
My eyes widen, but before the words fully register, he’s gripping my hair and dunking me, while his cock breaches my ring of muscle.
“Mmmpphhhh!”
I don’t let go of the soap. Instead, I bite clean through it, choking it out and spluttering in the water while he fucks into me. But when he sees me gagging and gulping in water, he pulls me straight out, his cock still lodged between my cheeks.
“Let’s try that again,” he rasps. “Open up.”
I have no idea how he managed to get a new bar of soap while fucking my ass at the same time, but a second later, he’s pushing it in my mouth. At this point, my palate is starting to go numb, and I don’t gag when he makes me bite down on it.
“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, stroking the side of my face while I sag against the side of the tub.
“Mhm hmm,” I moan, feeling his cock twitch inside me.
I have no doubt that no matter how turned on he is, he would stop if I tapped the tub. But I like it when he pushes my limits. I want to follow him to wherever he wants to take me.
“That’s my good girl,” he croons. “Take a deep breath, now.”
This time, I manage to inhale oxygen through my nose, even though it sends soap suds choking into my throat, before he pulls me down in the water again, his fingers still fisting my hair.
He keeps me under for what feels like an eternity while he pounds into my ass, and my hands automatically go to the sides of the bathtub, tensing around the edges.
It takes everything I have not to tap, but I don’t want it to stop.
It’s torture, but I don’t want it to stop.
“Fuck, Lia!”
He pulls me out, letting me breathe and splutter again, before he once more pushes me into the water, his cock still driving into me at a punishing pace.
I think he must have claimed my ass just as many times as my pussy, but I can never get used to it.
It still hurts like hell every time, but I guess I really am a pain slut.
The pain only makes me that much more desperate for him.
At last I feel him tense, and he pulls me up by the hair one last time, his hot seed filling me. He pushes me onto the ground, dripping with water, and pulls out, then spreads my cheeks and looks at his arousal trickling out of me.
“Fuck, Lia,” he says again, lying down next to me and wrapping his arm around me. “Goddammit. You’re so fucking hot, baby.”
He removes the soap from my mouth and rewards me with a long kiss.
“How was that?”
I can’t tell what burns more—my ass or my mouth. My body feels limp, entirely depleted of energy, but my pussy is soaked, and I can only think of one thing.
“My turn now.”
He smiles and kisses me again. “You’re my good girl, Lia. My little crybaby. I love you, do you know that?”
“Yes, Logan.”
I let out a happy sigh when he spreads my legs, his mouth latching onto my bundle of nerves.
He takes my clit between his teeth, rolling it and sending sparks of painful pleasure up my core, then sucks on it hard while he fills me with three fingers.
It only takes a few pumps for me to come, shaking in the throes of a violent orgasm.
He picks me up and brings me to the bedroom, sopping wet, where he sets me down on the bed. Then he climbs on top of me. “How was that, baby? Ready for round two?”
“Yes, Logan. But maybe… maybe…” I moan loudly as he pinches my clit, teasing out more of the tingling sensation I’d thought had already died down. “Maybe… not the soap. At least, right away.”
He laughs. “Alright. I’ll let you off easy this time. But next time I hear you curse, you’re really going to get it.”
I shiver in anticipation. “What exactly do you mean by really?”
Smirking, he bends down to kiss my belly button. “Well, ghost girl… I guess you’ll just have to find out.”