I ride him hard, cruel and punishing. It’s empty. I’m accomplishing a task. I don’t stop or slow, I just move. The fizzling rage explodes into a million little pieces when I come. My hips undulate like I’m draining every last ounce of ecstasy he can offer me. My moan is raw and wild as I take everything he has. It’s mine.Heis mine.
The blinding euphoria subsides, and I’m left panting on top of him, coming down from the natural high of power, or pleasure, I’m not sure which.
He’s still stunned into silence.
He’s done.
I destroyed him.
I won?—
His hand shoots up and seizes my throat. I cough, missing the inhale I didn’t have a chance to take. Not enough to hurt, just enough to take back his control. I set my jaw and we have a stare-off.
“Do you feel better now?” His voice is hoarse and gritty. With my nails digging into his chest, he flips us. He straddles my waist and dips his head to my ear, licking up my neck and biting the lobe before he whispers, “Remember my safeword.”
Shit.
In less than a second, I go from ruler to ruled—but I’m not handing it over, he’s going to have to earn it. He’s going to work for it.Hard.I’m enraged all over again. Angry that he’s turning the tables, and furious for knowing me so well, knowing I love it.
“You think I forgot who I am just because I gave you a turn?” he growls. “You think I don’t know the woman I married?”
He slams into me, causing us both to groan. His hips snap with each thrust. White spots blink in the corners of my vision. He fucks like we’re at war. Maybe we are.
He’s reminding me just what kind of man I’m tied to. “You’re the devil,” I spit.
“Tell me, wife,” he says, “how does the devil fuck?”
I gasp at the sheer arrogance he has . . . It’s undeniably sexy. I don’t care if that means I’m broken. He likes me that way. There’s no response that won’t stroke his ego, so I seal my lips shut.
“I know exactly what you are, Chaos. That’swhyI married you. I see the darkness you harbor, the violence you try to hide. But you can’t hide from me.I chose you for the parts you bury in the shadows.”
He pins my wrists in one of his hands above my head and massages my sensitive clit with the other, his fingers torturously slow as he gives me a taste of my own medicine.
Logan is vicious and demanding of my body, but when I gaze into his eyes, they’re filled with adoration. With pride. Withrespect.
“Your wickedness . . . Your depravity . . . they only feed the man who fucks you.”
My body contracts around him as he nudges me closer to another orgasm. “The devil,” I correct.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m worse than the devil.I’m your match.”
I moan as he takes me, claims me,chooses me.
“Now,” he says, his voice more agreeable, “you’re going to come for me and get the rest of this rage out. We’re not going to bed angry. I will fuck the fight out of you if I have to.”
“You don’t have the fucking stamina,” I snarl.
“Try me,” he snarls, putting his face in front of mine. He says it so quickly, with so much confidence, I think he’d do it just to spite me.
He kisses me softly, and I hate it.
Dipping his head, his lips graze over my neck. “Do you remember our wedding night in Bozeman? You wore my white shirt . . . the one that fit you like a dress.”
That’s why he made me wear it. Sick fuck.
“Don’t,” I threaten, looking away and squeezing my eyes shut, tears pricking at the corners. That night was special to me because it was the first time we had sex. But it’s special to him for a different reason.
I’m jealous he has a memory that I don’t.
