Waiting for Always (Beautiful Surrender #5)(7)
Author: Ava Claire

The only thing that would make everything perfect was if Stacia and Logan got along when they met. And maybe if my dad would finally show concern for me and not the way my actions reflected on him and Kaleidoscope.

Wishful thinking. The bitter aftertaste of our last encounter soured my stomach. The elevator beeped and I focused on happier things. I focused on a future where me and Logan could finally—

The loft was dark. Foreboding.

The fluorescent light shining in the elevator glued me in place. Common sense told me to calm down. Maybe Logan ran out to grab a drink. Or he could be lying down. I didn’t have to spend too much time running through possible scenarios before a deep voice smoothed over the quiet.

"I’m in the bedroom."

I relaxed, letting out a nervous chuckle as I moved through the front entryway. I reached for the light switch.

"Did I say turn on the light?"

It wasn’t a scold. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there was lust ebbing and flowing in his voice. My pulse quickened and a shiver ghosted up my spine. Even fully clothed, untouched by anything but his words, I knew I was wet. Drenched with need for him.

My fingers twitched against the cool plastic, sensing that we were venturing down a kinky road. I strummed the wall as I dropped my hand to my side.

He couldn’t even see me, but he knew that I’d pause when I got off the elevator, knew my first reaction would be to turn on the lights. He was luring me to him. Who knew what he had in store?

“I know you’re curious.” His voice drifted from the direction of the bedroom, an amber glow lighting the way. I knew he was in there, waiting for me, and anticipation made me tremble.

This wait was torture—and I was loving every second of it.

I wet my lips and took a step forward, trying to get my bearings. "So if I fall and break my neck-"

"You’ll always wonder what I had waiting for you."

He may as well have reached right inside my panties then and there. I was trembling, my breaths a low pant that veered dangerously close to hyperventilating as I moved closer.

"You’re getting warmer."

Nerve endings fired like sparks when I stopped in the doorway. Dozens of candles illuminated his bedroom, surrounding a small bench that stood in the center. It was unassuming, nothing extraordinary—but in the hands of Logan Mason, even the most innocent item turned deliciously sinful.

I gasped when his hands gripped me, pulling me into his arms. Holding me so tight that I wanted to cry out in pain and tell him ‘harder!’ at the same time.

"Hi, beautiful,” he whispered, taking my earlobe between his teeth.

My eyes fluttered shut as I melted into his embrace. I wanted to feel him in the dark, breathe in the way his fingers felt against my skin. I knew how badly he wanted me; his c**k was imprinted like a tattoo on my body. But his fingers took their time. They stroked my skin, bringing me to life, then deepened as he pulled me closer. The world was exploding in rhythmic pulses, throbbing need radiating from my center.

“Are you mine, Melissa?” he breathed huskily. “Mine to do with as I wish?”

“Yes,” I moaned as his hands rounded my br**sts. Pierced through the fabric of my T-shirt and bra and clamped onto my ni**les. They were swollen and aching, tender to his touch. “I’m yours.”

“Strip.”

I tore off my clothing, hurling the pieces behind me before he had time to tell me to take it slow. When I turned to face him, bare and exposed, I saw the cuffs and rope on his bed. It felt like an eternity since we took on the roles that drew us to each other in the first place. We’d enjoyed each other since the tryst in his office, and it was hot and sexy…but this was my bliss. Surrendering control to him. Trusting him.

He took my hand and led me to his bedside. He attached the cuffs to my ankles and wrists then picked up the rope. It was red, glimmering in the golden dark. He beckoned for me to follow him, guiding me to the bench. Up closer I saw it was padded, black embroidery weaving through the ivory colored cushion.

“Lie on the bench, chest facing the floor.”

Swallowing, feeling the heat of the candles, I shuffled toward the bench. I straddled it at first, the cushion relaxing the nerves that bundled in the pit of my stomach, and then I lowered my upper body until my br**sts were mashed against the bench and my arms dangled down to the floor. The O ring on the cuffs glittered like diamonds in the dark.

I had so many questions. What was the rope for? Would he bind me with it? Spank me with it? The curiosity made me tingle from head to toe, waiting with bated breath for his next move.

I jumped when the rope hit the floor, the sound cutting through the silence. I felt a gentle tug on the cuff, one of my legs snug against the leg of the bench. My other leg followed suit.

His legs appeared out of the corner of my eye, still wrapped in his expensive trousers. I watched him loop the rope through the ring on the cuffs and secure it to the bench. When he was done, I gingerly pulled at the cuffs to no avail. I was strapped to the bench.

“Your submission is a beautiful thing, Melissa. Giving yourself over to me. Surrendering.” His fingertips danced down my spine. Lingered on the globes of my ass. “There’s nothing more beautiful.”

As he teased me, turning me inside out with lust, I realized that this was the ultimate escape. When I submitted to him, I wasn’t caught up in all the voices in my head; day-to-day worries faded to a whisper and when he began, it was silenced altogether. He bound my body, and it made my soul soar.

I felt him behind me, as surely as the blood coursed through my veins. As surely as my heart clenched and pulsed in my chest. As surely as I was his. And he was mine.

His hand rounded the curve of my ass, fingertips fanning out to clutch it tight.

There was one thing we hadn’t done. Sure, he’d given me a few spanks in his office, but nothing . It was as if he knew exactly how far to go, how far to push. My body vibrated with the realization of why we hadn’t used this bench yet nor done any intense spanking. He didn’t want me to break.

He knew I wasn’t ready.

I didn’t have those doubts in my head anymore. My desire to be dominated didn’t make me a weirdo. Even in the dark, his touch told me I was wanted and needed.

Giving Logan my body to use as he saw fit didn’t make me weak. There was a strength in me that burned like the candles all around us. The strength to give myself to my lover. A nakedness that was more than a lack of clothing. As his submissive, I was stripped down to the very essence of me.

"This is going to be more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced, Melissa. But you’re safe with me. If anything becomes too much, you say red and we’ll stop. No questions asked. No explanation required."