Chapter 19 Logan #2
Lily slides her fingers through her slick folds at the same time I push a finger inside Max’s tight hole, and his groans turn into pathetic whimpering when I add a second one.
“Such a pretty pussy,” I say before I lick a strip up Max’s throat, whose whines get more desperate once he realizes what he’s missing out on.
“You like seeing him like this, sweetheart? To watch him being used like the filthy boy he is?”
She nods, a shy smile complimenting the sweet red hue on her cheeks.
“Then show me what you did last night.”
“Logan, please, if you don’t let me see, I’m going to die,” Max says, way too loud, given our surroundings.
Sure, everyone knows about whatever the situation between us is, but that doesn’t mean he needs to annoy everyone in the house with his whining.
I yank the blindfold off of his head, ball it up in my fist, and shove it into his mouth. It’s probably for the better, because knowing Max, he’s going to be loud once I’m fucking him.
“Hi, baby,” Max tries to say, but the words come out all muffled, and I roll my eyes. Lily giggles until she realizes we’re now both watching her.
“Sweetheart, go on. I don’t like to wait,” I say, curling my fingers when she starts fingering herself.
Max slumps forward, and I gently help him to stay upright by grabbing a fistful of his hair.
Lily spreads her legs wider, adding a second finger. Her cunt looks so wet and fucking inviting that I can’t wait for the moment I get to watch mine and Max’s cum drip out of her.
When I deem Max prepped enough, I use some more spit to slick up my cock and line myself up with his hole. I push inside without giving him time to adjust, and he lets his head fall back against my shoulder.
I know he can handle it. This is far from what it takes to really ruin him, and sometimes, I think Max lacks a breaking point.
The way he clenches around me turns my brain to fucking mush, makes me fall down further into a grave I keep on digging for myself.
“Hands off now, sweetheart,” I say through gritted teeth. “No more trying to get off until we’re back. Be good for us.”
Lily looks a bit too relieved for my liking as she closes her legs, but I’m too lost in Max’s body to scold her.
He’s like a drug, one that sends me on the best and simultaneously worst high ever.
“Promise me.”
“I promise I’ll be good.”
“Say goodbye to our pet,” I say, pulling the fabric out of Max’s mouth while I up my pace.
“Bye, baby, love you,” he pants.
My whole body tenses, and I lean forward, ending the call so fast that his phone falls down onto the hardwood floor.
“Love you?”
The words taste like poison on my tongue, and I push Max down until his face is pressed into the bedspread.
“What did I tell you about saying the word?”
My thrusts get harder, and I wish I could hear how Max moans, but the ringing in my ears muffles everything else. I slide all the way out, watching how his hole clenches around the tip of my cock.
“Not—“he pants once I give him a moment to breathe, but his voice breaks when I slam back inside.
Wrapping my hand around his throat, I pull him up with me.
“Not allowed to say it.”
“Exactly.” I grind my hips against his ass, tightening my grip on his neck. “And why?”
“Causes problems.” He trips over his words, his body going lax in my grip.
“Better pray to your God she didn’t hear you.”
I slam Max back down, pounding into him with a force that has his tears soaking the bedspread.
“Gonna make me go bloody mad one day, sunshine,” I growl, snaking my free hand around his waist to lift him up until his back is pressed flush against my chest.
Slowing down for a moment, I reach for my gun, scrambling to unload it.
“You’d really let me do it?” I ask, using the muzzle of my gun to brush away a strand of hair that fell over his face. He nods, repeating my name like a prayer while I make sure to fuck him in a way I know makes him see stars.
“So fucking perfect for me,” I whisper, and when the trigger clicks, Max comes untouched.
Seconds later, my hips stutter as I fill him up. I slump down, burying his body under mine, enjoying the only moment I don’t have to worry about him.
Max mumbles something that sounds like he’s very pleased with himself, and just like every time, the crash is lethal. All of a sudden, he’s too warm, too close, too pliant.
“Go clean yourself up before you soak through the damn sheets.”
I roll myself off of him and stare at the ceiling while every breath and every beat of his heart makes me think of what could happen. I don’t want to lose him, but I also don’t want to fucking care about losing him.
Groaning, he pulls his pants up and shuffles over to the bathroom. It’s a parody of appearing miserable, and still, I follow him after having a short discussion with myself.
“Lily’s been a bit off, don’t you think? More antsy than usual.”
For an excruciating amount of time, the only sound in the bathroom is that of running water.
“Dunno,” Max says from behind the frosted glass of the shower.
“How’s your arm?” I ask, hoping for more than a one-word answer. Instead, I get nothing.
“I can take care of it if you want me to,” I offer as Max leaves the shower.
Now that all the blood and grime is gone, it doesn’t look half as bad as it did earlier. Maybe Max was right about downplaying it, but it doesn’t matter. The severity of any kind of injury on his body is for me to decide. He doesn’t know what’s good for him.
“You’re just getting off of seeing me flinch,” he says with a grin, pushing me aside to search the cabinet over the sink for a roll of gauze.
“Already got off plenty, thanks.”
That’s what I get for trying to be nice.
Max leaves the bathroom, still dripping wet, and with a shake of my head, I start to undress.
When I step out of the shower half an hour later, smelling of Red’s luxurious body wash, my beard finally in shape again, Max is already splayed out on the kingsize bed.
Half asleep, his hand lingering on the tattoo I put on him after I fucked him for the first time.
A bullet, the letters L.C. tattooed with red ink, so that whoever tries to get in his pants immediately knows who Max belongs to.
Not that I would let anyone come near him, but I prefer to mark what belongs to me.
I tell him to get his ass over to his side of the bed, and he barely moves two inches. I should ask Red for a second room. Should force Max to sleep far away from me because with every night we spend together, I’m getting worse.
He’s like a sickness. Spreads in my body, clawing its way into every cell. Tendrils of the thing he calls love force themselves inside every molecule of my being, and I hate myself for wishing he feels the same. That I’ve possessed him just like he possessed me.
I try to push him away, and Max gives me the finger, resting his head in the crook of my neck. Always making way for himself. In my bed, in my mind, in my heart, like it’s his fucking birthright.
“I can’t stand you.”
“I can’t stand you either,” he replies, putting his hand in mine.