I wanted to beg him to do it. To put me out of my misery.
But I was chained.
Tied.
Shackled to his potency.
“Let me see you finish, Aster. Go back there…where you were…with me. Finish.”
My tongue swept over my dried lips. “Logan. Please.”
“Who do you belong to?”
My thighs trembled and my pussy throbbed.
So heavy and needy I had to stop myself from lifting my hips to rub against his pants.
You.
You.
It shouted from my soul.
Even though it didn’t come from my mouth, I knew he saw its truth in my eyes.
“Who, Aster? Who do you belong to? I need you to say it.”
I saw the flash of grief. What was at stake.
The confession rolled out without permission. “You.”
Because this time, it wasn’t about some stupid bet or deal.
It wasn’t temporary.
It was yesterday.
It was today.
It was forever.
It was the bare, violent truth.
Dark satisfaction flashed through his expression, the angle of his fierce jaw rigid, his eyes glinting with dominance.
“Finish, Little Star.”
My spirit thrashed.
Panged and danced and sang.
My stupid, tattered heart grew wings.
Emotion gathered so fast I was afraid it would seep out through my eyes.
He leaned down, but only his breath touched my ear. “Are you wet, Aster? Are you wet for me? Is it me you’ve been thinking about all these years?”
Tremors rocked me head to toe. “Don’t make me admit that.”