Chapter Six #3
Willow groaned again and the sound elicited another growl from Logan.
When he eased her gently back onto the moss, there was no rush in his movement.
No force. Only a quiet question written into every brush of his lips, every breath between them.
She let him guide her, her back settling against the soft, damp ground, stars blinking faintly through the breaks in the trees above.
Their mouths met again, deeper this time.
Slower. Her hands found his shoulders, fingers curling into his hairline.
She could feel every hard inch of him against her body, and it was divine.
He kissed her like she was the air he needed to breathe, and she responded like he was the sun that gave her life.
Her skin tingled, and her back arched up into him as if on its own volition.
She hadn’t expected this, but she wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything, maybe even needed it.
His hands left a trail of heat everywhere they touched.
But it wasn’t the heat that undid her. When he broke the kiss abruptly, and lifted his head to stare down at her, breathing heavily, there was a desperation in his gaze made her ache.
“Tell me you want this,” he said hoarsely.
“I want this. I want you.”
Logan kissed her again then, deeper and harder than before and as their bodies pressed together, the same desperation that she’d seen in his eyes, enveloped her. She didn’t just want him. She needed him.
They tore at each other’s clothes with an urgency that was primal, and their pace only quickened with each layer that was removed.
Logan kissed a path down her neck, his teeth scraping against the delicate skin there, and she gasped, half expecting him to bite her.
She was almost disappointed when his lips moved lower, brushing over her collarbone, his breath feathering her skin with reverence.
The sensation made her shiver. His mouth trailed across her chest, slow and purposeful, until it found her breast and his tongue flicked out against a sensitive nipple.
The gentleness of his lips against such a sensitive place undid something inside her.
He reached a hand down, his fingers sliding between her folds and she gasped.
“Jesus,” he said against her lips.
Then his fingers seemed to be everywhere at once, circling her clit and sliding inside her enough to drive her wild.
She arched into him once more, breath catching, a soft sound slipping from her throat.
Then his hand curved around her hip, holding her in place like an anchor.
She'd never felt anything like this kind of tenderness.
This kind of care. No one had ever touched her like she was made of something worth keeping.
And when he finally moved between her legs, eyes locked on hers, his expression open and raw, Willow didn’t feel anything other than a burning need, a thirst that she knew only he could quench. She opened her legs wider, inviting.
He entered her slowly, carefully, with a groan that sounded like something deeper than pleasure. It was like relief. Like coming home.
She gasped at the stretch of him, the fullness. He pressed in deep then waited a moment as if giving her time to adjust to his size. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and he stilled, checking her with nothing more than a look. She nodded, breathless. He felt incredible.
They began to move together, a rhythm born purely of instinct and need.
The world around them faded—the trees, the moonlight, even the stream’s soft flow—and all that remained was the shared rhythm of their bodies, the slap of the skin, and their need made vocal by the catch of their breath and their groans.
Each time he slid into her felt deeper than the time before. Each stroke sent heat blooming in her belly, rising higher. His name fell from her lips like a prayer, and he whispered hers like a vow.
Willow wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, opening herself to the pleasure, to him. The surrender. The freedom. Then Logan scraped his teeth against her throat, and she almost screamed.
“Yes!”
“I want…to bite,” he ground out as he thrust himself deeper inside her. “Need.”
Willow didn’t even hesitate. “Yes! Please!”
Yes! Willow’s wolf echoed. Claim mate!
Logan struck, his canines sinking into the tender flesh of her neck. The pain was sharp at first, but as his hips moved faster, more frenzied, pleasure overtook it until there was nothing but the heat of his body, and the intense pleasure in every nerve ending in her body.
Each thrust took her higher and higher, and when the climax finally hit, it rushed through her with such tremendous force, it was as if something was cracking open of inside her, something sacred. She cried out, unable to stay silent as wave after wave of pleasure flooded her body.
A moment later, a low grunt escaped Logan’s lips then his hips stilled as he too found his release.
For a long time, neither of them moved. Willow blinked up at the stars through the trees, her body still humming, her chest full, and her body satiated in a way she had never experience.
“My mate,” Logan whispered reverently.
She was his.
And he was hers.
And she couldn’t have been happier about it.