Soul Resurrected (Sons of Wrath, #2) (39 page)

Hatred swirled inside of them, giving a sort of smile to whatever thoughts may have passed through his mind.

Did her story amuse him?

Tendrils of fear climbed the back of her neck and tugged at the hairs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Move over.”

Move over?

His eyes told her that, in spite of the rebellion going on inside her mind, she better just do it.

Logan grabbed one of the blindfolds and put it to her eyes once more.

A jolt of surprise brought her hands up to her face. “What are you doing?”

Hands gently batted hers away as the blindfold tightened around her skull. The bed shook with movement, springs croaking, and Logan’s body knocked her thigh.

“Climb onto me.”

Sick and heartless bastard
.

Did she not just reveal something completely private and embarrassing? Pangs of remorse churned inside her stomach.

The mask, remember
?

“No. I’m not up for this. And you’re an asshole for suggesting such a thing right now.” She reached to remove the blindfold but hands clutched her wrists.

“Climb on.” His clutch intensified and he yanked her onto his body.

Calla’s legs awkwardly straddled him, and her heavy breasts fell against his chest. Hands still captive, she wrenched herself to a sitting position and tugged for release. “Let me go, Logan!”

“Hit me.”

His words brought her to an abrupt stop. “What?”

“Pretend I’m the cocksucker who hurt you and fucking hit me. Hard as you can.”

“You want me to hit you.” She spoke in a flat tone and gave one last futile tug. “Just let go. This is stupid.”

“What’s stupid is letting some dipshit, who doesn’t even exist anymore, continue to run you down.”

“He doesn’t run me down,” she gritted. “No one runs me down.”

“And yet you tremble like he’s still in the room.”

“Shut up.” Gold flared behind her eyelids. “You wouldn’t know a goddamn thing.”

“I wouldn’t?”

“No, you’re just a stupid …
mindless
demon who only thinks about sex. You don’t know the first thing about a woman, or feelings.”

“I know what it
feels
like carrying around a fucking ghost. Like you want to pound the shit out of it. So, do it. Take it out on me, Calla, since you can’t take it out on that motherfucker now.”

Calla’s fingers curled into fists. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Thank God for the blindfold. “Why are you doing this?”

“What do I have to say to get you to hit me?” He growled and shifted on the bed beneath her. “He hurt you, Calla. Fucker hurt you. Think of what you’d be right now. Where you’d be, if he hadn’t done what he—”

“Shut up! Don’t say it! Just shut up!”

“He did this.”

Her breaths heaved, and her eyes burned beneath the blindfold, tears streaming and dampening the fabric of the necktie against her cheek.

“I can feel
you
, Calla. The adrenaline. That rush. Your fists are itching to punch. You don’t think I know that feeling? Take it out on me.”

“You want me to hit you? Fine!”

Logan released her wrist and she drilled her fist into his chest.

Heat zipped up into her knuckles.

No grunt of pain. His body didn’t so much as flinch with the assault.

Exhilarating.

“That’s it. Hit me again. Think of his face this time and punch harder.”

She slammed her fist into his chest again.

And again.

Felt so good. Like the sparring dummies, she pummeled the body beneath her. Each time, he hardly moved, making it easier to keep going.

“I hate you. You sick, twisted sonofabitch!” She sucked in harsh breaths. “The lives you ruined.” A crack echoed as she backhanded Logan across the face. “My brother. My parents.” Pounding away brought her hips off Logan’s body. Hands pushed them back down against his hard stomach. “Go to hell!”

In a last fit of her tantrum, her fists swung rampant … until she caught herself.

Oh, God. What am I doing?

Mid-punch, she lowered her hand to her side and tugged away the blindfold.

Logan lay beneath her, eyes closed, head tilted back, a smile on his face as if he …
enjoyed
the abuse?

He opened his eyes. A streak of blood had trickled out of the corner of his lip but the cut had already sealed itself.

Calla leaned forward, the buzz of adrenaline still coursing through her.

No words.

His hands drifted from her hips to the curved small of her spine, gently pulling her against him. A soft brush of her lips at his mouth and he fused them together in a possessive kiss—the kind that demanded her tongue meet his. Threading her hands in his hair, she returned the savagery, biting at his lip, her breaths panting, heat burning at her core, so passionate, as if she hoped to finish him off with the kiss.

His grip tightened, crushing her against him. For a moment, she reveled in the lack of breath, the excitement of connecting with someone so strongly, in a way she hadn’t before.

Hunger consumed her, the need to crawl inside of him and devour his heat. To stay where she knew she was doomed.

Logan’s embrace carried promises she’d become too frightened to believe. Protected. Safe. She’d never known the feeling and suddenly she knew she’d never survive without it.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she said against his lips.

Calla broke herself away and sat up.

She climbed off of him, slid onto the floor, and collected her clothing, all the while rubbing her head.
So wrong
.

What’s wrong with me?

Her skin prickled. She cocked her head to the side, noticing his body shadowing hers.

He pushed the clothes out of her hands, letting them fall onto the floor.

“I feel so weak all the time,” she muttered. “Like I’ve let so many people down. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be here, or to be what I am. Sometimes, I wish I could just disappear from everything.”

Hands snaked from behind, grabbed hold of her wrist, and flipped it over. She recoiled at his touch but his grip tightened.

The scars nearly glowed in the dark room. “You’ve tried.” He rubbed his thumb over them, and his low, deep voice at her ear held the most calming tone she’d ever heard him speak. “You know, in our world, suicide is punishable. Obsidius or absolute death. One in the same, from my personal experience. I’ve come to look at it as an act of pure desperation when a person tries to take his own life.” He lifted her wrist to his mouth and kissed the scar.

Her stomach clenched at the gesture.

“You hide this well, Calla. On the outside, you’re like any other female. Normal. Inside, a raging storm.” He let go of her wrist. “I don’t want you to disappear,” he whispered from behind.

The tickle of her hair against her shoulder, as he brushed it to the side, incited a shiver.

As he kissed the crook of her neck, she turned to face him. “You and I … this isn’t a good idea, Logan.” Her gaze fell to the floor. “I’ve, apparently, got some issues.”

“We’ve all got issues.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’m not going to lie, Calla. I want you. So bad that I’ve endured the pain of not taking you by force. Your touch reaches deep inside and rattles the shit out of me. There isn’t a female I’ve known who’s made me feel that.” He took her hand, examining her fingers while rubbing them with his thumb. “If I can’t have you, then I want to make you feel good. Show you exactly what you do to me.” Determination radiated in the way he narrowed his eyes on her. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “On the bed.”

“What?” The question blurted past her lips.

A kiss to the top of her hand quieted her protest. “Please.”

She huffed and looked past his finger to where he’d pointed. The bed. Jesus, why had it suddenly become an act of exorcism for her? Like revisiting a place where ghosts dwelled.

Wrapping her arms around her midsection, she tiptoed past him to the bed and sat on the edge.

“No.” He approached, shaking his head. “On your knees, face the headboard.”

“If this is going to be—”

“Please.” Logan’s flat tone cut off her words. He cleared his throat. “If any of this becomes too painful for you, say the word and it’s over. But know that if I get even the slightest impression that you’re okay with this, you ride it out. Hear me? You ride it and you trust me.”

“What are you trying to prove with this?”

“That I’m bastard enough to take on your demons.”

“How?”

“I’ve mastered two things in my life, Calla: how to kill just about anything with my bare hands, and how turn a female into a foul-mouth soprano.” He nodded toward the headboard. “Tonight, I intend to hear you sing. I guarantee that fuck never gave you that. The only way you’re going to leave that shit behind is showing the bastard that he didn’t ruin you. That you can accept the pleasures of a man and be brought to the pinnacle, in spite of him. That he didn’t mean more to you than your own worth and satisfaction.” Logan’s chest heaved, as if his words came spilling out on passion, a vision so beautiful, confident and masculine, it left Calla at a loss for words. “Now
please
get on your knees.”

After absorbing his words, Calla rolled her shoulders back and turned over onto her knees, the vulnerability of her exposed ass in his face sending a small tremble through her body.

Gentle pressure forced her head down onto the bed.

The heat of his breath chased the wetness of his tongue down her spine and, like a prod to her nerves, forced her ass higher.

Her sigh escaped and her muscles went rigid.

Bottom in the air, she bit her lip, nervous pangs of embarrassment turning her stomach. Her muscles contracted, preparing to right herself, when warm palms cinched the tops of her thighs.

Skin brushed her ankle and she craned her head downward to see Logan’s face appear between her thighs, right beside where his hands clenched.

Oh, God
. “I’m not … I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“Shhhhh.” His husky voice sent flutters to her stomach. “Trust me.”

Heart thumping in her chest, she closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, holding it. Warmth hit her skin and she curled her hands into balls at either side of her head and exhaled. Softness brushed against her flesh and her hips shot forward, caught by the firm grip of Logan’s hands against her thighs—a silent command to hold still. She swallowed harshly and bit on her knuckle.

A growl in his throat rumbled against her sex, the tickle vibrating deep inside her core. She let out a long exhale that ended on a whimper, and her muscles sagged with the urge to writhe against it but his grip tightened.

Her mind took only a second to contemplate that the wet probing from behind was his tongue, before it gave way to pleasures that scrambled her thoughts like a liquor buzz.

A lave of his tongue, and she squeezed her eyes, breathing so hard, the threat of hyperventilating became real. A moan slipped through her gaping mouth. Sharp slivers of his teeth grazed her skin, bucking her forward, before his tongue dipped inside of her, wet and wicked.

“Ah!” Her hips rolled with the delicious assault.

He held her steady, tracing sensual patterns inside of her.

Oh, Jesus
. Tingles exploded beneath her skin, traveling like flames through her blood. Each shaky breath that escaped her punctuated the massaging of his palms at her thighs.

The deep hum of his moan sounded from behind. The fervor of his grip intensified into pulses of kneading against her muscles. As if excited by this? Exhaled breaths through his nose, hot against her wet flesh, fanned the heat he’d already stirred there.

His tongue continued to dance inside her folds, and the overwhelming urge to caress her nipples forced her hands to slide against the bed sheets.

A low, tortured moan droned inside her mind as she buried her face in the black silk and gave a muffled cry with each lap and suck from behind.

She rolled her head to the side. “Logan,” she breathed. “Oh, God, I think—” Squirming against him, she fought against the mounting pressure, the burn inside her belly that promised something she couldn’t even imagine.

“Oh, st—”

Safe word.

He’d promised to stop if she said it.

Her body yearned for the impending explosion, but her mind rebelled.

“No. Can’t.” Every fiber resisted it, creating a quivering string of tension capable of snapping at any minute—like a bittersweet pain, knowing she didn’t want it to stop.

Words of repentance pounded inside her skull. Wade had always forced her say them aloud during his abuses—as if she’d coaxed
him
into the acts and needed to beg for forgiveness.