Logan Chapter 49

-Logan-

Emory shyly reaches for her fly as I get situated in the floorboard of the car. I’m not sure why she’s self-conscious now when I’ve been watching her change and sleep and cry for a month, but maybe she doesn’t know that I was aware even in wolf form? Or maybe it’s just that it feels like our first time all over again. I know so much more about the nuances of her emotions than when I did this the first time. I stroke her thighs before pulling her pants down, just to give her a little reassurance before I start my work.

“Good girl, baby. I thought I would go crazy watching you put this bit of lace on, but I think I’ll go even crazier watching you take it off. Go nice and slow for me.” Her thumbs hook into the waistband of her thong before she blinks and seems to come back to herself.

“Wait a minute, this is supposed to be my show! You have to strip, too.” There she is. I love when the feisty comes out.

“You mean you don’t want me to eat your pussy?” I have to admit to myself I’m only crude with her because I love seeing her blush. I toss my jacket and tie over the seat before working on my shirt buttons for her. I love rewarding her for having backbone.

“Well, yes, but I don’t want to be the only one naked if someone sees in the windows.” As if I would let that happen.

“Darling rose, do you really think I would risk sharing you with anyone else? Even just the sight of this pretty pussy is all mine.” Once I get my shirt off and toss it with the rest, I move into her. The scent of her is calling me, and I have to get started before I prove my point. I decide teasing licks all around will make her listen more than a wholesale attack to her sanity. “All of this is mine, Emory. And I do. Not. Share.” I finish off with one long lick all the way up, just to really make sure she’s listening. And, ok, to watch the chills move all the way up her body. She tosses her head back on the seat and I recognize the time to get down to business.

I cut off her half-articulated protest with a light smack on the thigh, getting a squeak of surprise in return. Point made, I smack once more for good measure and bury my face in Nirvana. “Now. Don’t move. I have some groveling to do. Listen closely, baby.” I’m the one that ends up listening, though. If she were completely aware of the sounds and words coming out of her mouth, I’m sure Emory would be mortified.

Emory, of course, moves almost immediately. She writhes under me, unable to handle the onslaught. I was able to work her up gently the first time we did this, but my wolf and I have both been ravenous for her for a month straight, and there’s no holding back at this point. I’m eating her as much for me as for her, and I have to squeeze my cock through my pants to keep from making a mess in them. I wonder how much makeup I have to do before I’m allowed to use it again? I push her through one orgasm, and she lets out a half-smothered scream from behind her hand when I don’t stop. I have a 20 minute drive to work my magic, and that’s without traffic. In New York, I could be at this for the next hour. I resolve to build her back up more slowly for the next orgasm. I want her relaxed when we get to the pack house, not incoherent. I don’t want to give her time to stew in her anxiety, but I don’t want to introduce my brother to a gibbering pleasure puppet, either. I’ll get enough raised eyebrows at her scent on me as it is.

“Logan, please, I can’t go again!” It’s like she doesn’t remember our night together at all.

“Emory, I know you can. Don’t forget that my record was three, and I do believe I watched you go two or three on your own with your battery operated boyfriend. This is payback for that little show, baby. Plus, how am I supposed to gain ground in time for the full moon if you won’t let me do some sprinting?” My impassioned speech gave her a moment to catch her breath, and I put a hickey on the inside of her thigh before I go back to exploring her folds.

“Th-that was mmmm… that was different!” I love her trying to have a conversation with me while I try to distract her. I wonder if I could get her to try and read to me sometime…? I shake my head in reply without stopping and laugh to myself at the gibberish that comes out of her. That’s better.

“Just enjoy it, baby. We’ve got probably an hour and a half before I’ll have to be done with you.” Finally, Emory surrenders and relaxes into my hold. There we go I think to myself as I redouble my efforts. She’ll be so relaxed when we get home, and everyone will get to meet the firecracker I fell in love with. Shit, love?