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Like I could do anything.

“Yes, fuck. I want you,” he begged.

His hips thrust up, and I shook my head. “Now, that’s not being a good boy. I’m in charge right now.”

He smirked and stopped moving. “Yes, ma’am.”

I grabbed his length and lowered myself back into position, rubbing up and down his shaft, pressing against my clit with every stroke.

“Please, baby,” he breathed desperately, his gaze trained on the sight of me moving against him.

My clit was throbbing from the perfect friction, and I was so turned on, I forgot that I was supposed to be playing with him. I gasped and then…

He surged inside me—only halfway, but enough to make me cry out from the fullness.

“That’s my good girl,” he said wickedly, grabbing my hips and thrusting in all the way.

We both groaned at the sensation, and I fell against his chest, trying to get ahold of myself.

“Fuck me, Red. Use my cock,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my hips.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered to him, and he groaned as I began to ease up and down, trying not to die of pleasure with how good it felt as his thick cock stretched me just right.

I was soaking wet, and even with the tight fit, I glided up and down easily. His thighs were coated with my wetness, his desperate moan had me rocking up and down faster, wanting to give us both what we wanted.

Grabbing his shoulders, I leaned forward, trying to ride him harder. My clit rubbed against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and I moaned with how good it felt.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted as I clenched around him. Logan tore at my shirt, pulling it up so my breasts were bare to him.

I winced for a second as my shirt brushed against my damaged back, but we were both too far gone for that to stop us.

His hips and thighs flexed, pumping into me as I moved. He bent over and latched onto my nipple, sucking it hard before he bit down gently.

“Fuck,” I panted as my orgasm crashed over me. He sucked my nipple again, and my entire body convulsed, squeezing his dick as I tried to survive the pleasure.

“Yes,” he growled as his mouth released my breast, his head falling back as his cock jerked inside me, his hot cum filling me up. I shuddered as I came down from the orgasm, my forehead falling to the crook of his neck as I tried to get my breath back.

We stayed like that for several long moments until I finally got my wits back enough to lift my head.

“Don’t ever handcuff me again…unless I ask you to,” I whispered, my lips brushing against his mouth.

His dick jerked again.

Logan grinned, his green eyes gleaming, a piece of his hair falling across his forehead. “Absolutely no promises, Red.”

* * *

LOGAN

The notification lit up my phone just as I was finishing my second cup of chai tea—props to Lancaster for introducing me to it. This stuff was the shit.

I unlocked my phone and saw the email from the PI. The subject line read simply:Everett.

There was a link below his name, andI clicked on it, my pulse picking up speed as the screen filled with a series of documents, photos, and emails. There were client lists—high-profile names—and payment records tied to the escort service Everett ran under the guise of a “consulting firm.” But it didn’t stop there. Hidden deeper in the files were records of a trafficking ring, complete with photos of women and girls who had been coerced, manipulated, or outright taken from their lives to serve his “business interests.”

My stomach churned as I clicked through image after image. Financial statements showed large payments funneled through shell companies, and email chains painted a picture of Everett as the cold, calculating architect behind the operation. He didn’t just run it—he thrived on it. The names of some of his clients popped up in my head like a taunt. Politicians. Executives.

One particular email stopped me cold. It was from Everett himself, instructing someone to “prepare” a new recruit. My blood boiled when I saw the language he used—clinical, detached, as if these were products, not people.Make sure she’s docile. No mistakes this time.