My Possessive Alpha Twins For Mate Chapter 311

Dahlia’s POV

Logan stormed into the bedroom with me slung over his shoulder in a possessive grip, cradled at his side like a prize he refused to share. My stilettos had long since been abandoned somewhere along the hallway, lost in his desperate rush to have me alone.

He set me down, and I instinctively stepped back, our eyes locked. Without breaking contact, I tugged at the tie of my wrap dress. The fabric unraveled and fell from my shoulders, puddling at my feet. Logan’s gaze darkened, his wolf rising to the surface as he drank in the sight of me—standing before him in nothing but lacy white lingerie and thigh-high stockings edged with delicate lace.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice strained with restraint. “Panties. Off. Now.”

I hesitated only a second, just long enough to see the flicker of silver gleam in one eye and hear the warning growl rumbling low in his throat. His wolf was close to the surface.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice rough—Fang was with him now, sharing control.

“On the bed. Hands and knees.”

His command was clear, and I obeyed without question, climbing onto the mattress and positioning myself as ordered. Logan circled behind me, his eyes lingering on every inch of exposed skin.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice rich with desire. “Ass up, pussy glistening—just waiting for me.”

The hunger in his words sent heat flooding between my thighs. I could already feel the slickness of arousal running down them. The rustle of clothing followed, and then the bed shifted as he joined me. I shivered when I felt the warmth of his breath ghosting across my ear.

“You're mine,” he whispered hoarsely, the growl in his tone unmistakable. “And I’m going to fuck you senseless. If it gets too much, you remember your safe word, alright?”

I nodded. He pressed a firm hand on my back, lowering me until my cheek met the mattress.

“Stay just like that,” he warned, wrapping my hair tightly in his fist.

He slid his thick, hard length through my folds, coating himself in my arousal. I moaned, hips twitching at the friction.

“That’s it. Let me hear how badly you want it,” he urged, aligning himself at my entrance.

His voice alone sent another wave of desire through me. I moaned again, deeper this time—and that was all the encouragement he needed.

With one brutal thrust, he plunged into me, his other hand anchoring at my hip to yank me back onto his cock. I cried out—part pain, part pleasure—as he filled me completely, stretching me to my limit.

He didn’t let up.

Again and again, he pounded into me, each stroke harder, faster, dragging me back to meet his thrusts. The way his fingers dug into my hip, the sharp pull of my hair—it was overwhelming, toeing the line between agony and bliss. And I was addicted to every second of it.

We’d had rough sex before, but never like this. Never with his wolf lending strength to every movement. I wasn’t afraid. I wanted more. Needed more.

“Please…” I gasped, every moan and whimper a plea for release.

“Please what, baby girl?” he asked, voice low, strained with effort and desire.

“I need to come. Logan, please…”

Desperation laced my words. He was relentless, hitting my sweet spot with every thrust, and I was unraveling fast.

“Not yet, little one,” he panted. “Not until I say so.”

I whimpered, the pressure inside me unbearable. My body trembled, pushed to the edge, tears of pleasure leaking from my eyes. And still he didn’t stop—his pace never faltered.

Then, at last, he pulled me back roughly, grinding deep inside and holding me there.

“Come,” he commanded, pinching my clit with deliberate force.

I shattered.

A scream tore from my throat as wave after wave of orgasm ripped through me, my entire body convulsing around him. He groaned and followed me over the edge, collapsing onto me as he spilled inside.

We lay tangled together, breathless and trembling, his chest pressed against my back as he spooned me in the aftermath.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered against my ear.

I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “I suppose that means more, coming from you.”

The words were out before I could stop them. I hadn’t meant to say it—not now. Not after that. But something inside me, some small, jealous part I thought I’d buried, had surfaced.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked gently, concern lacing his voice.

“Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

But he wasn’t letting it go. He rolled me onto my back, settling over me, eyes searching mine.

“Talk to me,” he urged.

I turned my face away, unwilling to let him see the tears gathering in my eyes. He framed my face with both hands, turning me back to face him, his seafoam green eyes softening.

“What’s going on?”

“That was the first time you got that rough,” I said quietly. “The first time you let Fang take part.”

Realization flickered across his face.

“Shit. I’m sorry, baby girl. Did I hurt you?” he asked, his expression twisting with guilt. “Why didn’t you use your safe word?”

“No—Logan, no! That’s not it,” I rushed to reassure him. “It was incredible. I loved every second. I want to do that again.”

I held his gaze, willing him to see the truth in mine. He nodded slowly, still uncertain.

“Then what’s wrong?”

I hesitated, my voice small when I finally answered. “You’ve had so much sex, Logan. So many women. All of them willing to do anything for you. I can’t help but wonder how I could ever measure up.”

He looked gutted.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “There is no comparison, Dahlia. No one compares to you.”

I wanted to believe him, but doubt clung to me.

“Come on, Logan. Before me, it was someone different every night. And I’ve had the misfortune of running into some of them—women all too eager to share your greatest hits. I’m just one woman. I don’t kid myself into thinking I can keep you satisfied for long.”

His expression was pure agony as he took in my words.

“Listen to me,” he said firmly, pulling me to straddle him, forcing me to face him. “All of that—those women, those nights—it was me trying to fill a void. I thought if enough people wanted me, I’d finally feel whole. That one of them might make me feel something real.”

He paused, swallowing hard.

“And I won’t lie and pretend the sex wasn’t physically enjoyable. It was. But not once did I feel satisfied after. Not once. Until you.”

His voice dropped, full of something raw and real.

“If you hadn’t loved what we just did, we wouldn’t ever do it again. And I’d still be content, because this—us—our connection, our intimacy... it’s everything to me. I want to learn your body, discover what makes you tick, explore every desire with you. You and Liam, you’re my future. And I don’t deserve this, but I’m grateful for it every damn day.”

“Really?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

Logan growled softly and flipped me onto my back again, pressing his arousal between my thighs.

“If you didn’t satisfy me,” he said, voice thick with need, “would I be this eager to go again?”

He thrust gently against me, making his point crystal clear. I giggled, and he growled again.

“Let me show you exactly how satisfied I am.”

I tried to wriggle away playfully, but he held me fast, kissing his way along my jaw and down my neck. I moaned softly, surrendering to him all over again—ready to let him prove his point.