Chapter 4 Can You Turn Off the Lights?

• Logan was surprised that Madeline would come back.
• He lifted his gaze to meet her tear-streaked face, which looked even more pitiful than before. Her lips were bruised, her eyes were red and swollen, and tears silently rolled down her cheeks, betraying her struggle with humiliation and despair.
• It appeared as though she had been provoked.
• He leaned against the liquor cabinet and asked, "Are you sure?"
• Madeline clenched her fingers tightly. "I need the money."
• "Same rules as before: take off your pants."
• Logan spoke coolly, curious to see how far she was willing to go.
• Madeline sniffled as she closed the door behind her. She stepped inside and began to remove her jacket.
• The thin fabric slipped off easily, falling to the ground.
• Then came her jeans.
• With a soft thud, her loose-fitting jeans dropped to the floor, leaving only her form-fitted underwear.
• With her hands behind her back, Madeline found the metal clasp at her waist.
• She closed her eyes and unclasped it without a second thought.
• There was a sense of tragic resolution in her actions.
• Logan watched her, calm and composed.
• Her skin was pale, almost glowing under the light. Her waist was slender, fitting easily within his grasp. She was petite, her legs elegantly proportioned.
• Strands of hair clung to her face, and tears fell silently, creating a heart-wrenching image that stirred something primal within him.
• The more she cried, the more it ignited the beast within men, erasing even the slightest trace of pity he might have felt.
• Logan's gaze darkened as he sat back on the couch, gesturing for her to come closer. His voice was flat and indifferent.
• "You have twenty minutes. Take the initiative. If you can't pique my interest, you can f*ck off."
• His fierceness didn't scare her away.
• Madeline bit her lip and slowly approached him, kneeling at his feet.
• She was inexperienced, having never been in a relationship, and she hadn't even watched adult movies that might have prepared her for this moment.
• Suddenly, a poem she had once stumbled upon flashed in her mind. "My lips are parched, my speech is torched, and my back is scratched. How can I get the wine from the pot that I've so longed for?"
• With a shaky breath, she leaned in, tilting her head up to meet his lips.
• The moment their lips touched, her body froze and her breath instinctively quickened.
• His lips were thin and cool, carrying a faint, unique scent.
• Unsure of what to do, she merely pressed her lips against his, grazing them softly. They brushed against each other, touching and parting, only to come back together again.
• The desire in Logan's eyes deepened, a hidden storm brewing beneath the surface.
• Her unskilled kiss, if one could call it that, unexpectedly stirred him.
• She only knew to press her lips against his to nibble.
• Madeline grew bolder, her touches becoming more daring as she attuned herself to the rhythm of his breathing while he remained still.
• Whenever she pressed closer, he would hold his breath or quicken it.
• Gradually, she began to find her rhythm, unconsciously teasing his lips with her own.
• Boom!
• The last thread of Logan's self-control snapped.
• He had consumed some drinks that night. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to hold back.
• In the next moment, he grasped the back of Madeline's head, taking control. He opened his mouth and captured her lips, deepening the kiss.
• His kiss was fierce and overwhelming, far more aggressive than the timid peck she had offered.
• His tongue swept through her mouth, taking in her breath, raw and bold.
• In a moment, Madeline began to realize what a true kiss felt like.
• Somehow, she found herself pressed back against the couch. The overhead light illuminated her pale, slender body in stark contrast.
• The scene was exaggeratedly vivid.
• Unable to help herself, she whispered weakly, "C-can you turn off the lights?"
• Logan smirked and denied, "No."
• Madeline had no choice but to close her mouth and shut her eyes.
• His movements were swift; his eyes were cold, yet there was no mistaking the raw intensity behind them.
• Madeline, unable to endure any longer, clutched his muscular arm. She pleaded, "Can you go a little slower? It hurts."
• Logan's gaze lowered, gripping her delicate waist with one hand. It felt fragile, as though he could break it with a mere squeeze.
• His Adam's apple bobbed as he leaned closer, his deep voice laced with dark mockery as it filled her ears.
• "You're not afraid of pain when selling your body; why be scared of this?"
• "Just bear with it." He commanded.
• Madeline didn't dare speak further, burying her face in his chest silently.