“You want to explain this?” His breath slams against my ear, drawing a powerful sensation that radiates in my pelvis.
I keep telling myself this is all some confusion he’s worked up from our tussle, but as he strokes me, I can’t deny there’s something else going on, bringing to mind a moment when I was deep throating his cock and found myself enjoying the experience. No, I can’t want this. Aside from the obvious issue of being straight, I hate this motherfucker.
“Is that what you really wanted when I said that? To be taken over my desk? To be shown who fucking owns you now?”
I try to say no, but the word catches in my throat.
He chuckles. “Oh, Logan, you really do intrigue me.”
He licks up my cheek, starting close to the jaw and making his way up toward my temple, sending sparks shooting up my belly. Snickering against my flesh, he slides his hand up to the head of my dick and rubs around, where I’ve clearly precome. Why the hell am I leaking over this?
“I’m gonna take you right here,” he whispers before nipping my earlobe. “I’m not even gonna use this condom. Or lube.” He pushes his pelvis close enough to my ass that I can feel his erection, like he wants me to visualize the damage that thing can do to me without lubrication. “Why does that make you harder?” he asks, echoing my thoughts, and the way his breath is steadily hitting my ear doesn’t help matters. “That what you want? To be fucked until you bleed? Make you cry like the little bitch you are? Tell me you want to be my little bitch.”
I struggle against him as he demeans me, one last attempt to free myself from his hold, and yet…I’m not struggling nearly as much as I should, and even less as another stroke from his hand relaxes this impulse in me.
“Then I’m gonna shoot up in you so I’ll have claimed your mouthandyour cunt. You’ll be stained with me, your future husband. Tell me you want—no, need—to be dripping with me.”
I command myself not to answer him because what’s the point when it doesn’t matter what I say.
He releases my cock, and my thoughts scramble, my nerves in a panic. But then he drags my pants and boxers down, exposing my ass. I hear him unzip his pants, my body wild with anticipation—when he suddenly stops moving.
A low chuckle hits my ear before the tension around my neck gives and he releases me. He crawls to his feet, leaving me reeling in a seriouswhat the fuck?
17
LOGAN
Once Killian’s standing,he looms over me, laughing a powerful, maniacal laugh. The laugh of a psychopath.
My cock is harder than it’s ever been in my life, the precum forming a small spot along the inside of my thigh.
As Killian heads back to the bar, I pull my pants up, fastening them before pushing to my feet, mentally recovering from…whatever the hell that was. All I know is, I’m even angrier with this fucker than when we started our fight.
I retrieve my wallet and stuff it in my back pocket. “What the hell was that all about, huh?” As I charge him, he pours himself another whiskey, barely giving me a side-eye, still smirking like he has all the power.
“Relax, Logan. You attacked me, so I was giving you hell. That’ll teach you to never do that again.”
“That was all a game to you? The sick things you were threatening to do to me? That’s disgusting.You’redisgusting.” But I know my judgment isn’t at him, but toward myself, for wanting him to do them. And my greatest fear is that he knows this as he locks eyes with me, still smiling.
“Careful,” he warns.
I should take the warning and move on, but with how worked up he’s gotten me—and my cock—and how much rage there is in my chest, I apparently don’t mind playing games with the devil because I slap his drink right out of his hand, the power carrying the glass across the room, shattering it against the floor.
Killian’s eyes go dark, but his smile expands. “I guess Logan wants to play after all.”
He rushes me, and I should fight him, I should beat the hell out of him, but I’m curious to see what he has planned for me. He grabs me and drags me across the room, pulling my arm behind my back and shoving my chest against the desk, reminding me of his threat.
“Not even fighting, huh? Seems like you’re begging me to fuck you.”
I shoot a nasty look over my shoulder. “I don’t have a choice, do I? You’re gonna take what you want anyway.”
“Or is that what you want me to do? So that you don’t have to admit how badly you crave feeling the cock that was inside your mouth, but this time fucking your cunt.”
My face flushes with heat. I despise that he might be right, and I struggle, if only to be less obvious.
He snaps my arm back again, pushing against me as he whispers in my ear, “Make up your mind. Do you want to be fucked or not?”
“You know I don’t want it.”
