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Am I so sexually fucked up because I’ve only ever watched my mom be a doormat with men? First she stood by while my dad gambled, drank, and wasted all our money. Now this. My stomach clenches when I realize how turned on the thought of Logan dominating me makes me. Why do I want something so close to the shit I see my mom getting put through? It makes me sick to see Ronnie mistreating her, and yet the thought of going back to Club Crave has had me giddy all week. It still does.

I run a hand through my hair, not letting the fresh wave of tears that threaten to come fall. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to enjoy it the same way this weekend. Knowing my fantasy may have roots in something I hate so much… It feels wrong.

And yet I don’t think Logan Steel would be so interested in me if it wasn’t for our encounter at the club. I don’t know how he’ll react if I’m not able to bring myself to submit to him again, but I have a strong feeling it won’t be good. I’m not sure whether the idea of him walking out of my life scares me more than the idea of giving in to this perverted fantasy of mine, but I’m going to have to make a decision one way or another this weekend.11LoganI step inside Club Crave, barely able to contain my need. She will be here. Ever since I decided to look for a sub again, I’ve felt a sense of hunger that was steadily growing until I met Emmaline. She ignited it, and now it swirls within me like something wild and untamed, threatening to explode at any moment, to shatter my poise. An animalistic urge within me makes me want to throw her down and take her the moment I see her, to feel her lush curves and to press myself inside her until moans spill from her lips.

But that’s not how I want this to play out.

The anticipation is almost as enjoyable to me as the act itself. I also feel a sense of hesitation I’ve never experienced before. It’s not that I’m unsure, it’s that I’m not willing to do a single thing to hurt or scare Emmaline. The relationship between a dom and sub is based on trust and mutual enjoyment. Some doms like to turn their subs into girlfriends. They blur the line between sex and the heart. I always swore I wouldn’t fall into that trap. Then I let Lana in. I trusted her and I’ve been paying for it ever since.

Keeping Emmaline at arm’s length should be my goal. I’ve learned not to get attached a thousand times over, and yet here I am, teetering on the edge of crossing the line again. I’ve been trying to convince myself the power of my attraction to her is only because I’ve been away from this lifestyle for so long. I’ve been sexually starved, and she’s the first morsel I’ve laid eyes on in years.

When I saw her it was like getting hit in the chest with a sledge hammer. No other woman in the club came close to having the same effect one me. I had to have her. And getting a taste of what she had to offer only made me that much hungrier. So I decided to meet her outside the club, maybe hoping I would learn she was just some vapid, money hungry woman. Instead, I found someone driven, strong, and admirable. Even though she wouldn’t tell me the details, I could tell she has pushed through more adversity than most people do in a lifetime, and she’s still striving for more.

I crack my neck, blinking my eyes a few times to try to focus my thoughts somewhere less dangerous. I call up an image of her perfectly round ass and the way goosebumps rose across her skin. My cock hardens immediately. I remember watching the red blossom from where I paddled her. From when I punished her.

I need to find her.

I move through the lobby slowly, swiveling my head as I search her out. I see the lobby is more deserted than usual, and I notice the few couples remaining are also heading towards one of the play rooms. I follow, curious, but still intent on finding Emmaline. A pounding beat reaches my ears as I step into the hallway. Inside the playroom, the music washes over me. It’s heavy, thick, and sexual.

The room is full. Doms in masks and subs in outfits ranging from sheer dresses, leather spandex, and lingerie lounge and sprawl on the couches and seats filling the room. It’s too much to take in with one look. A sea of flesh. Bodies move together in slow concert, hands working, hips, moving slowly to the heavy beat of the music, and mouths pressed against each other. Some subs pleasure their doms while the doms look toward a stage set up at the far end of the room.


Tags: Penelope Bloom Billionaire Romance