Page 87 of Bonds of Pain
I swing Maya up in my arms, intending to give back every ounce of pleasure she just gave me. Her lips are still wet and swollen, her eyes hazy with blush and desire. But before I can lay her back on the bed, she surprises me by rolling us both over, pinning me beneath her as she curls her full weight onto my chest.
“I’m tired,” she announces with the exaggerated solemnity of the thoroughly intoxicated. Her hair fans across my chest as she nuzzles against me, one hand lazily tracing patterns on my chest as her eyes drift closed.
I stroke her back, feeling her heartbeat gradually slow against mine. I should carry her to Logan’s room. He’ll be returning from his bloody spectacle soon, and finding her here,smelling of me and my spend, will send him into a rage that might endanger us both.
But I can’t bring myself to move her. Not when she feels so right against me, her small body perfectly fitted to mine as if we were designed as complementary pieces.
“You’ll hate me in the morning for this,” I whisper into her hair, not sure if she’s still awake.
“Mmm,” she murmurs, already half-asleep. “Can’t. Even if I wanted to.”
I reach over and extinguish the light, plunging the room into darkness. In the quiet, I wonder how much of tonight she’ll remember when the blush wears off. How much she’ll regret. Whether any of her desire was real or just chemical manipulation.
And whether any of that matters at all, when I get to have her like this.
Iwake with a start, momentarily disoriented by the warm weight of Maya still pressed against me, her back to my front. The room is dark except for a sliver of moonlight cutting through a gap in the curtains.
Something shifts on the bed behind me. My muscles tense instantly.
“Make room for me,” Logan’s voice murmurs, so close to my ear that I feel his breath.
I turn my head slightly, making out his silhouette in the darkness. He’s already crawling onto the narrow mattress, the frame creaking under our combined weight.
But I’m frozen in both shock and a sick sort of awareness that always rises when he’s nearby.
The bed dips as Logan settles himself along my back, his chest pressed against my spine. His arm drapes over my waist, fingers splaying possessively across my abdomen.
“You’re not allowed to be in here,” I whisper, wishing I had the nerve to shout it. “We agreed on it a long time ago.”
His shrug is a squeak of the mattress springs behind me. “Maya’s here.”
This space is supposed to be my refuge, with everyone forbidden access but myself. I should have guessed that Logan would use my weakness for Maya as an excuse to change the rules.
“I’ll leave if you tell me to,” he says, but there’s something in his tone that suggests he knows I won’t.
I open my mouth to do just that when his lips brush against the claiming mark on my shoulder. Whatever words I might have said dissolve into a gasp of surprise. Heat flares from the point of contact, spreading through my body like wildfire.
“That’s not fair,” I manage, my voice betraying me with its breathlessness.
Logan chuckles, the sound rumbling against my back. “When have I ever played fair, Cillian?”
His teeth graze the mark next, sending a shudder through me that I can’t suppress. My body responds to him instinctively, despite everything—despite my anger, despite Maya sleeping beside me, despite my determination to resist him.
“Maya sleeps like a baby when she’s with you,” Logan whispers, his lips moving against my bare shoulder in a way that makes me suppress a shudder.
My gaze automatically moves to her face, still relaxed in sleep. “The blush has her knocked out.”
“It isn’t just that.” The barest edge of his teeth against my skin before he soothes the momentary shock of pain with a gentle kiss. “She feels safe with you.”
I release a shaky breath. “It’s just the bond.”
“Is it?” A chuckle, edged with darkness. “Does that mean you feel safe with me?”
Logan has made me feel all manner of things and he knows it. Safety has rarely been one of them.
“You saved my life.”
“I did.” His fingers tease at the taut skin of my lower belly, mere inches from the tip of my jumping cock. “And I would do so much more than that if you let me.”
