Logan Chapter 11

-Emory-

“Good girl” Oh hell, why did that make my heart pound? “Oh? You like being my good girl, don't you?” He kisses my pulse once before pulling back, waiting for my answer. “Don't you, Emory? Are you a good girl?”

“Y-uhh yes, I do. I am.” Somehow he's got my dress open now and we both pause while he looks down at the matching bra and thong I picked for tonight- I liked the look of the dark lace against my skin and decided I needed that confidence. Clearly, I made the right choice because he took a full breath and cleared his throat before speaking again.

“I don't think making out is going to be enough for me tonight. I've decided I have to taste more of you. I think I'll start… here” he tucked my bra cups under my breasts, plumping them higher. My nipples were already rock hard when he licked one quickly before giving the other a hard suck. All I could do is moan in response and tangle one hand in his dark locks. “Mmm, delicious, but I bet I know what's sweeter.”

I'm breathing so hard and I still don't feel like I'm absorbing any oxygen. I huff out an “oh” when Logan tugs my legs so that I have my knees hooked over his shoulders, then tugs my underwear slowly to the side. “Logan, I haven't… that is, I've never… are you sure?”

“You haven't?” He looks at me incredulously, still with my ass in his hands, my hips in the air. “But look at you, Emory, all pink and blooming for me already, just like” he licks my clit, and I jumped at the sensation, “a little” kiss “rose.” He growls the last before sucking my clit into his mouth to lick it continuously while he penetrates me with one finger, then two. Before I even realize, I'm moaning his name and gripping his hair to shamelessly grind against his face.

I didn't even realize sex could be this good, and we're in the back of a car, of all places! I'm already desperate for the release barreling toward me- it doesn't matter that he's probably only been eating my pussy for 30 seconds, tops. The buildup of all his talk makes me feel like I've been waiting for hours. “Logan, please!”

Amber eyes flash open to connect with mine. They're almost.. glowing?.. when he growls into my folds and hits my g-spot with three fingers. I distantly hear an embarrassing squeal as I explode in all directions. I feel my legs and inner walls spasming as he groans. He removes his fingers and keeps licking softly, easing me back down instead of shooting me into the stratosphere.

“Holy hell, Logan. What..?”

He licks his lips, then the fingers that were just inside me - oh, my God- and smirks back at me. “I'd say that was an excellent appetizer for both of us, wouldn't you? A good thing, too- we're here.”

-Logan-

I watch Emory try to blink herself out of the pleasant sex fog I left her in as she puts her dress back together. I hope that whoever made such an easy-access design is making a lot of money from it. I'm admittedly feeling really fucking smug right about now. God, she's glorious. I still have her scent in my nose, and I'm already thinking what wine would pair well with the taste of her still in my mouth.

I alert the hostess to our reservations and lead Emory back to the booth. She's smiling a dreamy little smile until I slip in next to her. She looks up at me in confusion for a second before she chuckles to herself.

“Logan, don’t people usually sit across from each other on dates? How am I supposed to look at you while we talk?” Her sarcasm comes with a cute little grin and a raised eyebrow. I resist the urge to kiss the sarcasm out of her, but just barely. I already know that eyebrow is going to keep me on my toes.

“Hmm, that’s an option, yes. But if I sit across from you, how can I see the goosebumps on your skin when I touch you? How could I do anything like this?” I can’t get enough, I place a hand on her leg and slowly slide it up her thigh. She stops me before I can do anything too scandalous, her face flushing.

“I think that may be part of the point, now that you mention it. I, for one, would like to actually eat here before we get kicked out.” She does make a fair point, so I squeeze her thigh once before leaving my hand there. Just because she has a point, that doesn’t mean that I agree with her.

“You’re right, Emory. Next time we should get takeout. You’re driving me crazy in that dress tonight.” It’s less the dress and more my wolf, at this point. He’s scratching and whining to taste more of her, to be buried in her- scent and skin- and to wake up with her tomorrow morning. “Besides, I think you like the idea of getting caught, just a little bit. You have a glass face, little rose.” Of course, if I couldn’t smell how much it turned her on, I would hesitate a lot more to call her out on it. Since I can, though, I don’t want her missing out on things she could love just because she’s scared. I can be patient. We’ll work on her trust in my decisions- I have to keep reminding myself that she doesn’t have a wolf egging her on and we’ve only truly known each other less than a week at this point.

“Yes, well,” she laughs a little nervously, embarrassed to be called out but not so much that she’s willing to get defensive about it, “my dad always told me that I was ‘making that face out loud’ - usually when I had heard something I didn’t like.” I love the image of a young Emory, with that sassy eyebrow getting her in trouble. I suppose it’s a great sign for when I’m about to be in trouble, now.

“I was a bit of a troublemaker too, but my dad was always there to keep us all in line. It sounds like your dad might have been the same way.” My dad was the Alpha before me. It doesn’t always work that way- most packs go with whoever is strongest for the next alpha. Sometimes that ends in battles, if the two strongest are strong in different ways or close enough in size to make judgment difficult. Alphas often spring from the same family line- genetics do come in strong for our wolves- but all too often a strong man will breed weak or spoiled sons. My dad was determined Landon and I would be the strongest wolves our pack has ever seen.