Their Bloody Rose

Give in to Your Fear

The next morning, Marissa quietly snuck out of her bedroom to go start making breakfast while Eddie, Fiona, and Joanie still all slept peacefully in her bed. On her way downstairs she ran into Logan coming in the front door looking pretty stressed and exhausted.

"Are you just now getting home?" Marissa asked as she approached Logan to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah," he answered as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He was exhausted but his body still called for her, needed her. "Me and Phillip stayed at the warehouse all night pouring through every last bit of data on Curtis' phone. There wasn't a ton of useful stuff on there but we might be able to use some of it."

A deep sigh escaped him as his mind continued to keep trying to think of something to do. He was completely mentally drained but he couldn't stop his mind racing.

"Logan," Marissa whispered his name as she reached up to caress his cheek. She could see the exhaustion and mental overload he was carrying written all over him. "You don't have to carry all this alone, you know? We're all in this, we're all here." She caught his eyes with hers as he leaned into her touch. "I'm here. Tell me what you need."

"I don't know," Logan lamented before righting himself and donning his usual strong, confident, hard exterior. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." He went to move away but Marissa kept her grip on him.

"Logan," Marissa said a bit more firmly making him stop and look down at her. "Last time I checked, you don't get to tell me what to do. I'm always gonna worry about you. You carry so much, too much sometimes, and you don't have to carry it alone. Now," she let her hand move down his face, cupping his jaw while her pinky and ring finger caressed his neck, making his eyes close as he gave in to the touch, "tell me what you need."

Logan just stood there a moment, the feeling of her soft delicate fingers dancing across his neck pulling all his focus and making him just melt into her touch. With just that little touch Logan could feel his mind starting to quiet. All the stress and questions of the night started to fade as he focused on his need, for her.

"I need you," Logan whispered as his eyes stayed closed and he leaned even further into her touch. "Marissa." Her name was like a prayer as it left his lips, a prayer Marissa intended to answer.

"Come with me," she whispered as she started guiding him towards the stairs down to the basement.

Marissa stopped just inside their dungeon and looked up at Logan. "Tell me what you want Logan," she said, letting her desire and dominance seep into her voice, "tell me what you need."

"Marissa," Logan moaned out her name as his hands reached for her, needing to feel her touch, to feel her power. "I need you," he said with a lustful hunger. "I need you. Take me. Please."

Marissa reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. She knotted her fingers in the silky black strands and then pulled his head down so she could place a firm, passionate kiss on his lips.

As soon as their lips met it was like Logan's mind went completely silent. The never ending storm of questions and stress and responsibilities reduced to nothing more than a gentle spring breeze as she took control of him. Here in this room, in this moment, there was only her, only his Marissa.

Marissa pulled away from their kiss and smiled as he leaned forward trying to follow her. "Take off your clothes," she ordered him as she went to gather a few things, "and go lay down in the center of the bed."

Logan's heart was pounding in his chest as he did as he was commanded. He still didn't understand how she had such a power over him, but it was like as soon as she let even the tiniest bit of her power call out to him his entire being gave in instantly. He was her willing subservient plaything and she was his deity with just one word, one caress. Never did he think he'd find someone who could make him drop even harder and faster than he did to others when he was in his dominant element. And yet, here she was, all 5 feet 6 inches of her, hair as red as the blazing inferno she set in his heart(and his groin), making him strip off everything. Not just his clothes, but every piece of the hard walls he'd so carefully built around himself all these years, every piece of his mighty unbreakable persona he showed the rest of the world, leaving him as nothing more than his purest, most vulnerable self.