19 #2
Slowly, by degrees, Logan embraces me, careful not to hurt me with his claws. The kiss is gingerly applied, and I still feel the sharp press of his protruding fangs. That’s a little different, but I think I could get used to it, flicking my tongue against one of them.
A possessive sound reverberates in his throat, and Logan pulls me closer, my ribs meeting his. Needy sensations stir deep in my core.
Our bodies know each other, mine thrums with the pleasure and security I feel every time we tangle together. I feel safe with Logan, and that doesn’t change just because he’s all monster-y.
Against my better instincts, I ask, “So, now can we have angsty soulmate breakup sex?”
That earns me an eye roll, and he pushes back from me with an exasperated huff.
“I’m joking!” I insist quickly, raising my hands in mock surrender.
Logan rolls over onto the grass next to me, stretching out on his back.
I doubt it’s his intention, but it makes it hard to ignore how tightly his pants fit his werewolf form, the denim bursting along the seams. Fuck, how is he still wearing jeans?
My teeth worry into my lower lip, as my attention traces along the path of his zipper.
“Unless . . . ”
“Ava.”
“What?”
“We’re not breaking up.”
“Obviously, because we weren’t toge—”
“Ava,” he growls, the sound sending a shiver up my skin as he tugs me closer against him. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”
I had been joking, really, I swear, but now the heat of his big, clawed hand on my hip is waking all the butterflies in my stomach.
“Ok, so where does that leave us? If we’re not breaking up, I don’t think it’s gonna be angsty, it’s just gonna be . . . soulmate sex?”
He catches me by the mouth with a kiss that shuts me up for a moment.
It doesn’t do shit for making me think about anything else though.
My hands drag down his body to the tops of his jeans, the top button popping open with minimal persuasion, the zipper giving way just as easily.
I stroke his cock, finding it hot and hard with that familiar knot at the base.
Apparently I’m not the only one really into this.
“Is that any different than what we’ve already been doing? I mean, besides—actually, is that why your dick is weird?”
His canine nostrils flare, and oh, I’m wet. I can’t help it, he’s big and snarly and that’s actually really doing something for me when I’m not actively running for my life. Between his muscled thighs, his engorged cock leaks white, pearly drops.
Reflectively, I swallow. “. . . But like, a good weird,” I finish a little lamely, my voice almost cracking under the intensity of my need. I’m ready to hear another denial from him, to stop being a pest.
Logan’s grip on me tightens, his brow furrows. He removes his hand from my body, laying it flat on his leg. His claws easily puncture the fabric as his fingers tense. He has to know what that’s doing to me.
His breath clouds the cool night air, as he murmurs, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He’s so entrenched in the instinct that he has to withhold parts of himself from me. But I’m going to stay and see him through however long it takes to unlearn it.
I give my head a little shake. “Should have thought about that before you ghosted me, wolf boy.”
His eyes darken.
A low, rumbling note cards through his heavy breath, and his body curls over mine, caging me between him and the ground.
Logan starts to hook a finger in the waistband of my yoga pants to tug them down, but his claws slice the taut fabric. A growl thrums, either in impatience or irritation and the yoga pants are shredded. He makes quick work of my panties as well.
I gasp as he drags his tongue up my thigh, teeth scraping my skin. My back arches involuntarily, and I swallow the sound of surprise that it releases into a whimper. The warmth of his body against mine layers over the blooming heat from my core.
“If you keep making those sounds,” he warns, like the breathy grunts he makes as he teases me aren’t going to make me cream my nonexistent pants.
He never finishes his threat, bringing his mouth to the crux of my legs. My hips jerk violently as his tongue parts me, scalded by the pleasure that it delivers.
It’s almost too much to bear. His tongue delves in deeper, and I clutch at fistfuls of the earth to keep from writhing. My legs tremble through every slow, delicious lashing. By the time he stops I realize I’ve been moaning, “Logan, oh, baby, I want you, please—”
A low, rough note comes out on his exhale.
“I was going to be patient,” Logan tells me, voice low and barely human, the breath of his words felt against my sex. “I was going to be good.”
Was.
“I don’t want good. I want you.”
He pulls back, holding my gaze as he sits back upon his heels, his monstrous body crowding over me. I couldn’t help but feel my clit pulse alive at the sight of him. I might die of anticipation before he finally devours me the way I need him to, at this rate.
His dark brown eyes bear down on mine, searching my face. The cords of his neck strain with his breath, his self-control made visible. “And if I bite you again?”
Looking up at him in the moonlight, the way it cuts his features extra sharp, his eyes, his teeth, his cheeks. Even beneath the werewolf exterior, I can see him, his doubt, his disbelief.
My breath catches in my throat. “Do it.”
“Ava,” he chastises, like he’s about to tell me to really think this out. Joke’s on him, I’ve never made an informed decision in my life. I see his internal argument, holding back from warning me off again.
His stare levels with mine, and he lifts his chin, daring me. “Then be with me.”
“Be with you,” I repeat, stunned.
He nods. Eyes incredibly fond, Logan says, no, begs, “Be my mate, be mine and mine alone. I love you, and if you would give me the chance to make you happy, I would show you what it means to be cherished.”
I stare at him, swallowing down the lump in my throat, but I can’t hold back against the flood of feeling in my chest.
“I want all that. I want to be yours,” I tell him, touching his face. “You can’t get rid of me, actually. You can’t push me away for my own good, or whatever.”
Logan threads his arms under my thighs, my knees hooked over his elbows. His gaze roams over me, spread out before him.
Him biting me is going to be different this time. It’s not flailing in the dark on a dirt road at a creature I don’t know. It’s definitely not the romantic, runaway together night I’d suggested, but I almost think I prefer being spread open in the soft grass like this.
I almost whimper aloud as he brings the tip of his cock to my embarrassingly wet pussy, the heat from it alone turning me on.
A shamelessly satisfied noise escapes me when Logan sinks into me as easily.
He responds with a delicious groan. He fits in me perfectly, his knot teasing that extra stretch.
My breath grows shallow and heat creeps over every inch of my body in anticipation of taking his knot again, knowing what we are to each other.
He strokes into me, slow and deliberate.
I whimper, feeling the tip of his cock drag against my inner wall, the way he angles his hips against mine.
Each pass, I watch the rigid edges of his self-control tremble; his eyes darken, his jaw clenches, his cock twitches inside me.
Perhaps unwisely, I’m hoping that resolve will finally come apart, and I’ll have Logan, all of Logan, without any reservations.
I’m ready to be his mate. I’m all in.