Logan Chapter 131

-Emory-

Since I met Logan, he’s starred in my dreams pretty often. It’s been even more common since the mind link happened- we often even share dreams at night, both of us mentally practicing meetings Logan has set for the next day, or running as his wolf, or finding out that we’re late for one of my exams and also forgot to put on pants. It’s a little disorienting to wake up from a dream and already know Logan’s opinion about it, or to look over and see him in full detail next to me when everyone else is just an indistinct impression of themselves. That being said, we don’t often have sex dreams together. Usually, we go to bed sated or even sore and we manage to make it six to eight entire hours before we’re desperate for each other again.

So this is a rare treat. I so seldom have sex dreams of Logan, and knowing he’s not home yet to see and critique anything, I’m feeling bolder than I ever do in real life. Logan is standing in front of me in our bedroom, looking down at me with amusement where I’m sprawled out on the bed. Looking down, I’m surprised to find myself still in my workout clothes. “Ugh. This isn’t what I want. I’m supposed to be in something sexy.”

Logan leans over me without actually getting on the bed. “I don’t know, mate. This looks pretty sexy to me. You know how I love to get dirty with you. Plus, nothing could be sexier than just seeing you naked.” He’s just as cheesy in my dreams as in real life.

I laugh and shake my head. “No, no, you’re supposed to rip it off me. Less talking, more ravishing.” For a second, Logan outright laughs and I wonder if this is a dream after all. Dream Logan wouldn’t have stopped to talk at all. He’d just take me.

“Just take, hmm? Why would I need to take what’s already mine?” That’s more like it. That sounds exactly like every sex dream I had of Logan before we truly got together. Letting just a little of his wolf out, Logan grows claws and shreds my workout clothes off my body without leaving even a scratch on my skin. Feeling the light tracing of the tips of his claws along my breasts and thighs already has my nipples hardening and my core weeping.

Logan takes a moment to just look at me, which I both love and hate. I’m still not entirely happy in my body, but I get a thrill low in my belly every time he pauses to look his fill. I can see that he likes what he’s looking at, but it’s hard to let him. This part always happens in my dreams, and I can’t figure out what that says about me. I don’t need to know right now, though. I need to be filled.

“Please, Logan, I need you.” He groans at my words, but kisses his way down my stomach instead of up, anyway. I moan in frustration. Oral is wonderful, but it almost always means edging or coming until I can’t move anymore. Logan loves to play with the amount and intensity of my orgasms, like he’s competing with himself all the time. “Logan please.” He gives me a few firm licks before coming back up to my face.

“If you’re going to rush me, you’re going to know what you’re making me miss out on.” I’m not sure what he means until he kisses me. It’s all-consuming, and I just barely catch that he wants me to taste myself on his mouth, to know that he’s mad that he doesn’t get to taste me for longer because I’m so needy. “Are you ready for me, baby? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want you to! Make it hard!” I claw at his back, trying to get him inside of me. Usually, he preps me and stretches me inside to make sure I can take him without hurting, but sometimes you have to let it hurt so you know you’re alive. Logan looks at me with surprise, searching my face to make sure I mean it. I have a second where I start to wonder if this is actually a dream or not. Surely, dream Logan would just go along with what I want- a figment of my imagination wouldn’t need to decipher what I’m thinking in the same brain.

It isn’t until Logan slams inside of me and I feel the delicious burn that I realize I’m really not dreaming. I’m awake, and I practically jumped Logan like a wildcat. I can feel the burn of embarrassment in my face trying to match the burn of the stretch inside of me when Logan grabs a handful of my hair and forces me to make eye contact with him. We’re in real life, actually on the bed with scraps of my athleisure wear littering the bedding, and my eyes finally pop all the way open to see that Logan’s wolf is riding close to his skin. His eyes are glowing, hypnotic, and inescapable.

“No, wildcat. You stay with me, now. You wanted me to take it, and I’m keeping it. Now moan for me.” I’m helpless, caught in his orbit, now. This is exactly what I asked for when I didn’t realize I’d be getting it in real life, and the burn inside me obliterates all thought, any other feeling. Logan slams to the hilt three times, fast, before he releases my stare from his to sit back and look at where we’re joined. “That’s better, mate. You asked for domination and who am I to disappoint? You’re mine, body and soul, and you’re going to be reminded of that fact for days after this.” Once he’s looked his fill of us together, he hooks his hand under one of my knees and pushes it against my chest before he leans back down to trap it between us.

I throw my head back on a groan because he’s so, so deep like this and I can feel him all the way in the back of my throat. I try to arch back to give him more room inside of me and he just slams into me harder and takes it. When he slides a hand down to press on my pubic bone and rub his thumb against my clit, I don’t even realize I’m screaming. It isn’t until he finishes that I stop coming. I feel my eyes slip back closed, truly asleep this time, and I just barely hear him say something. He sounds like he’s far away, but I catch “and don’t think I’ll forget you actually telling me what you want, mate” before I fully slip into the darkness.