Page 55 of Ghost Hunted

“No, I don’t,” I say with a conviction that I’m far from feeling. “And Quill didn’t tie you up because you hurt me, baby. He tied you up because I asked him to. Because I knew just how fucking hot you’d be, trussed up like this.”

I run a hand down her back and over the swell of her ass. She doesn’t look entirely reassured by my words, but I can tell she makes an effort to act like she believes them.

“I wish I could keep you tied up like this forever,” I murmur, stroking her ass then dipping down to touch her between her thighs. She whimpers. “You’re still my little captive, crybaby. I promised you, didn’t I? I said you’d be my captive for life.”

“Y-yes, Logan,” she murmurs.

I pause. “Where are they, by the way? Piper and Quill?”

“I think they went…” She blinks. “I think they went sightseeing. Piper wanted to go up some hill. Or some castle.” She chews on her lower lip nervously. “I don’t remember, Logan.”

“That’s okay, baby,” I tell her. “You don’t have to remember everything. Anytime I hear the word sightseeing in a conversation, my mind goes blank. I’ve already forgotten everything I just said. See?”

She gives me a small smile, and I grin back.

I’m nervous about the idea of my thoughtless daughter out and about in Belfast with a gang of angry masked bikers chasing us, but if I’ve learned anything since we’ve arrived in Ireland, it’s that Quill is a lot better at looking after her than I am.

“Anyway, that means I can have some time alone with my crybaby,” I murmur, kissing each of her wet eyes, then licking at her tears.

She squirms a little, which makes her thick ass bounce. I reward it with a loud, hard smack.

“Are you going to untie me first?” she asks shyly.

“Now, why would I do that? That wouldn’t be as fun, would it?”

It’s a little awkward to remove her panties with just one hand, but I make it work. It’s pretty much impossible to remove the shirt she’s once more wearing, with her hands cuffed snugly behind her back, and there’s no way I can rip it. There’s also no way I’ll cut through it with scissors. I don’t think I want to see another pair of scissors in my life.

I settle for pushing her shirt all the way up, and admire what I can see of her tits, crushed against the mattress. I run a hand between the mattress and her breasts, tweaking at her nipples a little harder than I intended. She lets out a pained moan.

I’m not angry at her—of course, I’m not—but there is some frustration inside me. I’m not used to being turned into a punching bag. At least, I haven’t been used to it in many years. Not since Lia vanished.

Now, I’m back to showing the visible signs of her pain, and blaming myself for everything she does. But if I can just take out all my frustration on her body… I think I’ll be okay.

“What’s my name?” I murmur.

“Logan,” she whispers.

“That’s right, baby.”

I don’t want to take advantage of her when her mind is turned off. But I definitely am going to take advantage of her, just as long as she remembers who I am.

I force aside the thought that her mind could turn off permanently.

It won’t happen. It can’t happen. I promised her I would fix her, and I can’t break a promise again.

My eyes rove down toward her ankles. One of them has a cuff around it, but it isn’t secured to anything. I stroke her lower legs, and her feet twitch when I land on her soles.

“Now, why did Quill not cuff your ankles together too, ticklish girl?”

“Uhm…” She wriggles harder. “He was going to, but Piper told him… it was okay to just lock the door.”

“Hmm.” I stroke her feet more insistently, and she squirms, her ass jiggling and making me so hard I think I’ll burst.

“I’m glad he left your legs free, so I could tie them myself,” I murmur. “Remember when I tied you to those hooks in the warehouse?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have brought back that memory. I don’t know if it’s a painful one for her, or if what I did to her there makes up for the context.

I exhale when she smiles and blushes.