Chapter Text
You knocked on Logan's door, still in your suit. You were slightly bruised, nothing major, but this last mission had been rough - especially since Jean wasn't around to help. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing Logan. His expression was hard and cold as usual, but his eyes widened a little when he saw the few cuts on your suit. "Oh shit, looks like you had a bit of a rough one, huh?" He said gruffly. You nodded, wincing slightly as a few cuts stung. "Yeah, it was a tough one." You groaned in pain a little, stepping into the room as Logan held the door open wider.
The room was simple and tidy, just like Logan himself. The walls were bare, there were just a few pieces of furniture and a large bed. The only splash of color came from the framed photo of the X-Men on the bedside table. "Sit." He said, gesturing towards the bed. You nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed. Logan walked over to a small dresser and began pouring some whiskey into a couple of glasses. He handed you one and took a sip of his own, studying your face. "Is it serious?" He asked, there was a hint of concern in his eyes. You shook your head, taking a sip of the whiskey, the strong alcohol burning the cuts on your lip. "Just a few cuts and bruises. Nothing major." You said, setting the glass down on the bedside table. Logan grunted in acknowledgement, taking another swig of his drink before sitting down next to you on the bed.
There was a moment of silence as you both sat there, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. Logan sighed, his expression softening a little. He looked over at you, noticing the weary look in you eyes. "You look exhausted." He said bluntly.
You nodded, leaning back slightly on the bed. It felt good to finally sit down and catch your breath. You could feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones, the aches and pains of the mission starting to register. Logan looked at you for a moment longer before speaking again, "Why don't you take a shower? There's some first aid stuff in the bathroom cabinet." He said, gesturing towards a closed door in the corner of the room.
You shook your head, feeling too tired to move. "I'm- fuck- I'm fine, really." You said weakly.
Logan grunted and gave you a stern look. "You're covered in cuts and bruises. And that suit's filthy. You need a shower." You sighed, knowing that he was right. After a moment, you pushed yourself up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom.
"Hey Y/N.." You paused, your hand on the bathroom door. You turned to look at Logan who was watching you intently. "Yeah?"
Logan looked at you for a moment before speaking, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Let me help you." You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the offer. Logan wasn't known for being particularly caring or nurturing. In fact, his typical response to injury was a grunt and a "walk it off".
"Help me... with my shower?" You asked, a hint of disbelief in your voice. Logan rolled his eyes, as if the question was ridiculous. "Yes, with your shower." He said casually as if it's normal. "You're tired and hurt. You shouldn't be moving around on your own." You stared at him for a moment, unable to believe that the usually stoic and tough-as-nails Logan was offering to help you shower. But as you looked into his eyes, there was a softness there, a look of genuine concern. You realized that he was serious. You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. It was strange to see this softer side of Logan, but it was also kinda nice to know that he cared. "Okay, if you're sure."
Logan nodded and stood up from the bed, walking over to you. He gently took your injured arm and helped you into the bathroom, closing the door behind you both. The bathroom was small and simple, with just a shower, toilet and sink. Logan turned the water on in the shower, testing the temperature before turning back to you, his hands on his hips. "Take off your suit." He said simply, gesturing towards the battered and dirty suit you were still wearing. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit embarrassed. You had never stripped in front of Logan before, let alone while you both were alone together in a small bathroom. Logan could clearly see your hesitation. He rolled his eyes and let out a soft grunt.
"It's not like I haven't seen you naked before." He said gruffly, his tone slightly exasperated. You blushed at the memory, realizing that he was right. There had been a few previous occasions when you had been naked in front of him, due to various X-Men missions and medical emergencies. You sighed and began to undress, slowly pulling the torn and dirty suit off your body. As you did, you tried to ignore the sting of your injuries, as well as the fact that Logan's eyes were on you the whole time. He could see the full extent of your injuries now - cuts and bruises littered your skin, a testament to the rough mission you had just been on. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a quiet curse. He waited until you were fully undressed, then stepped closer, his hand gently touching your arm, guiding you towards the shower. The warm water cascaded over your body as you stepped into the shower. It stung your cuts and bruises but the heat also relaxed your sore muscles and helped to wash away the dirt and grime from the mission.
Logan stood outside the shower, watching as you let the water wash over your body. He was quiet for a moment, but then spoke up, his voice rough. "You really did a number on yourself out there."
You chuckled softly, the warm water making you feel more relaxed than you had all day. "Yeah, it was fucking rough. We had a run-in with some new mutants. They were stronger than we were expecting."
"Assholes." Logan grunted, his expression darkening for a moment. The thought of you being in danger clearly didn't sit well with him. "I don't like you going out there without Jean. You tend to get yourself into trouble more often than not."
You rolled your eyes at his overprotective attitude. "I can take care of myself, Logan. I'm a trained X-Man, remember?"
He grunted again, folding his arms across his chest. "Yeah, I know you can take care of yourself. Still doesn't mean I like seeing you come back all beat up."
You couldn't help but smile at his concern. It was sweet, in a gruff, Logan sort of way. "I appreciate the concern, but I can handle myself. Besides, it's part of the job, right? We can't always come back in one piece."
You turn off the shower and step out, cold air hitting your damp skin. You shiver for a moment as you reach for a towel, but before you can grab it, Logan's hand is there, holding it out for you. You look up at him in surprise, his gaze meeting yours. There's a softness in his eyes as he hands you the towel.
"Here. Dry off." You take the towel from him and begin to dry yourself, the soft fabric feeling good against your skin. Logan watches you in silence, silently studying your naked body. You can feel his gaze on you, but there's no hint of lust or desire in his eyes. Instead, he seems to be assessing the extent of your injuries.
Finally, you finish drying off and wrap the towel around yourself, covering up your nakedness. As you do, you notice Logan's eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks away, clearing his throat. "You're all set. Let's take a look at those cuts." He grabs a first-aid kit from the shelf and gestures for you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. As you do so, you can feel the cool porcelain against your skin. Logan kneels down in front of you, opening up the first-aid kit and pulling out some antiseptic wipes. He glances up at you for a moment before beginning to clean your cuts one by one. His touch is surprisingly gentle, his large hands moving with a careful precision as he tends to each injury. His face is focused, as if he's hyper-concentrated on the task at hand. You can't help but notice how close he is, his body only a few inches from yours as he works. "You're lucky these aren't deeper." He says gruffly, his fingers slowly moving across your skin as he carefully cleans a particularly large cut on your shoulder. As he cleans the larger cut, you can't help but wince slightly, the antiseptic burning the raw skin. "Ow fuck.." Logan notices your reaction, and his movements become more gentle as he stops for a moment. "Sorry. I know this hurts." His eyes meeting yours as he spoke. He seems genuinely sorry for causing you pain, even though he knows it's necessary to clean the wound. "Just bear with it for a few more minutes." He says, his eyes locking with yours with reassurance.
While Logan continues to clean your cuts, you guys start to chat about other things, trying to lighten the mood a bit. It seems like Logan is trying to distract you from the pain of your injuries. "So, how do you think we'd fare if we had to survive a zombie apocalypse?" Logan asks suddenly, his eyes still focused on the cut he's cleaning.
You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the random question. But you play along, enjoying the distraction from the pain. "Hmm... I think we'd do pretty well. We've got some pretty badass mutant powers between us." "True." Logan agrees, his lips twitching in a faint smile. "I could slice through zombies with my claws, and you could... light them on fire or something." You chuckle softly, imagining yourself lighting up a horde of zombies like a human blowtorch. "Yeah, I could definitely do that. You'd probably do all the heavy lifting though, with your strength and healing powers." As you chat, you accidentally lock eyes with Logan for a moment. His intense gaze causes your throat to suddenly feel dry, but you quickly look away, clearing your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. "Ahem, so... are you done yet?" Logan gives you a small smirk, clearly enjoying the fact that he caught you off guard. But he nods, putting away the first-aid kit. "Yeah, I'm done. You're all patched up."
He stands up, his body towering over yours as you sit on the edge of the tub. For a moment, you guys stand there, the room silent save for the soft sound of your breathing. You look up at him, your heart beating a little faster now. You can't help but feel a little flustered by his proximity, and it takes you a moment to find your voice. "I should probably, um... change." You say awkwardly, standing up. Logan takes a small step back, giving you space to move. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes linger on you for a moment, as if he's reluctant to let you go. You grab the towel that is still wrapped around you, holding it tightly against your body.
Despite the situation, you feel a strange sense of disappointment, as if there's a part of you that doesn't want to leave just yet. Logan watches you for a moment, his face unreadable. There's a look in his eyes that makes you wonder if he's feeling the same way. But then his gaze moves to the floor, breaking the moment. "Yeah, you should probably get dressed." He mutters, his voice slightly raspy. "Don't want you catching a cold or something."
You nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. You know that he's just trying to act tough, but you can sense the hint of concern in his voice. you start to move past him, heading towards the bedroom. As you pass him, you feel his hand lightly graze your bare arm, sending a small shiver down your spine. You stop for a moment, half-turned to face him. His gaze locks with yours again, and for a moment, it seems like time stands still. His touch lingered a little longer than necessary, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. There was a subtle intensity in his eyes, as if he was trying to convey something silently with just his gaze. You can't help but wonder what he was thinking in that moment, what that look in his eyes was meant to convey. But then you snapped back to reality, realizing that you were standing there like an idiot, staring at him like a love-struck teenager.
You cleared your throat, breaking the gaze. You mumbled a soft "thanks" and quickly left the bathroom, your heart still racing a bit from the unexpected closeness. After walking down the hallway to your bedroom, you let out a long breath, trying to compose yourself. You closed the door behind you, leaning back against it as you tried to process everything that had just happened. Your thoughts were a swirling mess, a jumble of confusion and attraction. You couldn't deny that there was something between you and Logan, something unspoken and electric. But you couldn't quite put a name to it, and that confused you even more. With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the door and headed over to the dresser, grabbing some clean clothes. But even as you started to get dressed, your mind was still preoccupied with Logan, his touch and the look in his eyes still lingering in your thoughts.
You tried to shake it off as you pulled on a fresh shirt and some sweatpants, but the memory of his hands on your skin seemed to linger on your body, as if he had left an invisible mark on you. Once you were dressed, you sat down on the edge of the bed, your mind still racing. You had never felt this way about Logan before. Sure, you had always been attracted to him on some level, but this was different. It was deeper, more intense. Part of you wants to rush back to Logan and confront him about what had just happened. But another part of you is hesitant, unsure of what you would say or how you would even begin to address the situation.
You try to reason with yourself, telling yourself that it was just a moment, that it didn't really mean anything. Maybe you were just reading too much into it, and Logan was just feeling protective after seeing you injured. But no matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you can't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you.
With a deep breath, you make a decision. 'Fuck it. What's the worse that could happen?' You stand up from the bed, steeling yourself. You're nervous, but there's a small part of you that's excited too. You head out of the bedroom, your steps growing more confident as you waked down the hallway, approaching Logan's room. Your heart is beating fast as you approach his door, your mind running through all the possible scenarios that might play out. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you raise your fist and softly knock on the wooden surface. There's a moment of silence, and then you hear a soft "come in" from inside the room. You take a deep breath and push open the door, your eyes immediately locking with Logan's.
He's sprawled out on the bed, his arms behind his head, cigar tucked between his lips. He looks relaxed, but there's a hint of surprise in his eyes as he sees you standing in the doorway. His gaze rakes over you, lingering on your bruised face and bandaged arms for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "Couldn't stay away, huh?" He mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he takes a drag from his cigar. His voice is gravelly, but there's a hint of playfulness in his tone. He props himself up on one elbow, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, your cheeks warming a bit under his gaze. But you try to stay cool, walking over to the bed and perching on the edge of it, just a few feet away from him.
"Something like that." You say, your voice just a little shaky. You don't know where this flirty banter is coming from, but you can feel the tension in the air between you. It's electric, like a live wire. Logan raises an eyebrow, his gaze locked on your face. He seems to be taking in every little reaction, every flinch or blush. He takes another drag from his cigar, a plume of smoke curling up in the air between you. Logan holds the cigar out to you, still watching you intently. There's a challenge in his eyes, as if he knows that you're uncomfortable but wants to see how you'll react.
You hesitate for a moment, your eyes darting between his face and the cigar. You had never been a smoker, and the idea of sharing the same cigar with him seems weirdly intimate. But there's something in his gaze that tells you he's not going to back down easily. So you take the cigar from his fingers, your knuckles brushing against his rough skin as you do. Logan watches you closely as you put the cigar to your lips, taking a small puff. The smoke fills your mouth, acrid and strong. You suppress a cough as you try to mimic his earlier nonchalant action, hoping he won't notice how inexperienced you are.
Logan lets out a small huff of amusement as he watches you try to smoke his cigar. He obviously knows you're not a regular smoker, but he seems to find it entertaining. "First time?" He mutters, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. You take another puff, trying to seem casual. But you can feel the smoke burning your throat and lungs, making it hard to keep up the act. You give him a weak nod, hoping he'll let you off the hook soon. Logan chuckles again, a deep sound that rumbles through his chest. He clearly enjoys the fact that he's making you squirm a little. "You gotta relax your throat and take smaller puffs. Try again." He instructs, his tone gruff but almost gently.
You obey, trying to follow his instructions. You do your best to relax your throat and take a small puff, lessening the burn. As you exhale the smoke, Logan watches you intently, his eyes narrowing a bit. "Much better," he says, looking mildly impressed. "You're a quick learner." He seems satisfied with your attempt, his gaze still focused on you as you hand the cigar back to him. He takes it from your fingers, his touch lingering for a moment before he brings it to his own lips. As Logan takes a drag from the cigar, he scoots a little closer to you, closing the small gap between you. You can feel the heat from his body. The air around you is thick with the smell of cigar smoke and the electric tension between you two.
Logan takes another drag from the cigar, blowing out a stream of smoke before he speaks. His voice is low and rough when he says. "You know, you're pretty damn adorable when you're trying to act tough."
You can feel your cheeks turning red at his words, your attempt at denial quickly falling flat. "I-I am not." You protest, your voice a little shaky.
Logan grins, obviously enjoying your flustered state. He leans a little closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, you are." He affirms, the words almost a murmur. "And it's pretty damn cute." Your cheeks burn even more at his casual use of the word 'cute'. No one's ever called you that before, not like that anyways. Logan's gaze drifts from your face down to your lips, his eyes tracing the shape of them as you speak. He seems to be concentrating on them, his own lips curling up in a small smirk. His own lips are just a few inches away from yours, and it would be so easy to close that gap...
You're not sure if he's going to kiss you or not, but the tension in the air is palpable. The small voice in the back of your mind tells you this is a terrible idea, but you're too enthralled by the moment to listen to it. You're about to speak, your brain struggling to form a coherent thought, when suddenly, Logan leans in and captures your lips with his own. The kiss is swift and sudden, taking you by surprised. You can feel the warmth of his lips against yours, the taste of cigar smoke on his tongue. For a moment, everything around you fades away, and all you can focus on is the sensation of his mouth on yours. The kiss is intense but gentle at the same time, like he's holding himself back.
One of his hands comes up to cup the side of your face, pulling you a little closer to him. But the kiss is over almost as quickly as it began, Logan pulling away just as suddenly as he had leaned in. His hand stays on your face, his eyes searching your face for a moment, as if waiting for your reaction. You feel dizzy from the suddenness of the kiss, your mind spinning with a million different thoughts and emotions. You're stunned into silence, your eyes wide as you look at him. The feeling of his callused fingertips on your skin is almost burning, and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest.
Logan leans in again, his lips covering yours with a new sense of urgency. This kiss is fiercer, rougher than the one before. He pulls you closer to him, one hand grabbing your waist and pulling you halfway onto his lap. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, almost as if he's desperate for the taste of you. There's a hunger there, a need, as he kisses you. His other hand is on your waist, holding you in place against his body. You can feel the heat from his skin through his shirt, the hardness of his muscles pressing against you.
Logan pulls back from the kiss, his breaths coming in slightly ragged. He's about to reach for the buckle of his belt when you place a hand on his chest, stopping him. He looks at you, his gaze flickering across your bruised cheeks and bandaged arms. A flicker of guilt passes across his features as he takes in the evidence of your injuries "Shit sorry..." He mutters, his voice a little gruff. "I forgot."
He gently brushes strands of hair away from your face, his fingers tracing the contour of your jawline. "We can make out instead if you want." He mutters, his tone a little playful. "Or just cuddle. Whatever you're comfortable with those injuries of yours." His face filled with genuine concern.
"Maybe a little of both," you suggest, your own voice still raspy from sleep. "But I wouldn't mind just snuggling for a bit first. I'm still feeling a little sore to do much more than that." He nods in understanding, shifting himself closer to you on the bed. "Alright, snuggles it is then." He pulls you against his chest, his muscular arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. He's careful not to put any pressure on your bruised body, his arms encircling you in a loose embrace. You rest your head against his shoulder, taking in the scent of him - a mixture of his cologne and the faint musky scent uniquely his.
"Just relax, okay?" He mutters, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'll take care of you." Your head was now resting on his chest. One of his hands traced small, soothing circles on your back. The other hand comes up to gently brush through your hair, his touch slow and tender. He seems to enjoy the feel of it, the soft strands sliding through his fingers.
As you guys chat about things, Logan notices the change in your voice, how it's getting slower and more drowsy as you continue to speak. He feels you start to sag a little against him, your head drooping onto his chest. "I think it's time for you to get some sleep, princess." He mutters, his own voice low and gentle. "You're about to pass out on me." He kisses your cheek gently. You reply with a tired smile which Logan thought was adorable.
You barely remember anything once your head hits the pillow, exhaustion crashing over you like a wave. The last thing you recall is the feeling of Logan carefully maneuvering you onto the bed, his hands gentle as he pulled the blankets over you. You drift off in a soft, dreamless sleep, the world around you fading away into peaceful darkness.
Chapter Text
The next morning you slowly wake up. As you rub your eyes and stretch, you notice the space beside you is empty, the sheets on Logan's side of the bed already cold. A soft knock interrupts your thoughts, and the door to your bedroom slowly creeps open to reveal Logan leaning against the door frame, his muscular arms casually folded across his chest, "You're finally up," he comments with a smirk, his eyes roving over your form as you sit up in the bed. You glance over at the clock on your bedside table and realize it's almost noon.
"I guess I was pretty tired," you admit, yawning and sitting up in bed, the sheets pooling around your waist. "I can see that," Logan chuckles, his eyes roving over your disheveled appearance with a hint of amusement. "You had quite the day yesterday. You deserved a good rest." As Logan speaks, you notice the slight strain in his voice, a hint of tension that wasn't there before. You can't quite put a finger on it, but something seems off about him. "Is everything alright?" you ask, tilting your head slightly as you study him closer. "You seem...distracted." Logan gives a casual shrug, his expression shifting to a neutral mask. "Just a lot on my mind, that's all," he responds, his voice smooth and unbothered. "Nothing to worry about."
You narrow your eyes, sensing that there's more to it than he's letting on. But before you can press further, he clears his throat and changes the subject. "Anyway," he says, his eyes roaming over you once again. "I've got to head out for a bit. There's something I need to take care of." He steps closer to the bed, sitting down on the edge and reaching out to give your thigh a light squeeze. "I'll be back later tonight," he says, his hand lingering on your leg. "Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone."His words are casual, but there's a hint of a command in his tone. As he stands up, his fingers slip away from your leg, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
As he starts to turn away, you quickly sit up and reach out, grabbing his arm. He stops and looks back at you with surprise as you suddenly push him against the wall, the force of your action surprising even you. "Hey, what-" He starts to protest, but the rest of his sentence is cut off as you press yourself against him, your body flush against his. Before he can say another word, you grab his face in your hands and crush your lips against his, your tongue seeking entry into his mouth.
His body tenses for a moment, taken aback by your boldness. But then he melts into the kiss, his arms encircling your waist and pulling you even closer. Moments later, Logan finally breaks away, his breathing ragged and his eyes dark with desire.
"What's gotten into you?" he growls, his voice deep and gravelly. "Not that I'm complaining, but you're suddenly very feisty today."
"Can't a girl keep her boyfriend on his toes?" you tease, running your hands up and down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingertips. Logan lets out a low chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk. "You always keep me on my toes, doll," he says, his hands sliding down to cup your hips. "You drive me crazy in more ways than one."
"I think I like seeing you crazy," you murmur, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt, your fingers tracing the contours of his firm stomach. He lets out a soft curse, his abs tensing under your touch. "You're gonna be the death of me," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening almost possessively. "Maybe that's the plan," you tease, pressing a teasing kiss to the underside of his jaw. "To drive you absolutely insane."
With a sudden move, Logan pushes you backward, your back colliding against the wall. He pins your wrists above your head, his body pressing against yours. "You're playing a dangerous game, doll," he growls, his eyes dark and intense as they lock with yours. "You like teasing me, don't you? You like seeing how far you can push me until I snap?"
All you can do is nod, your heart racing and your breath coming in shallow gasps. You're completely at his mercy now, trapped between his body and the wall behind you. Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes raking over your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. But his grip on your wrists doesn't loosen, his hands still pinning them firmly against the wall.
As Logan continues to study you, his grip on your wrists holding you captive against the wall, you suddenly remember something, "Wait," you say, your voice shaky but determined. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" He blinks at your question, as if he had forgotten about whatever it was he needed to do. A flicker of irritation passes over his face, quickly replaced by a resigned sigh.
"Yeah, I was," he begrudgingly admits, loosening his grip on your wrists, but not letting you go just yet. "Something came up," he mutters, his eyes roving over your face as he speaks. "But it can wait 10 minutes..."
Your heart skips a beat at his words. 10 minutes? What could he possibly do in just 10 minutes? "Just 10 minutes?" you ask, arching an eyebrow skeptically. Logan leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Ten minutes can be a long time when used properly," he murmurs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
A shiver runs down your spine as his tongue trails a line up the side of your neck. His teeth nip at the tender flesh of your earlobe, causing a wave of heat to rush through you.
As Logan continues to kiss and nibble his way down your neck, you suddenly find yourself wishing that he would take things slower, give you more time to savor every sensation. "What if I don't want to wait 10 minutes?" you whisper, unable to hold back a soft moan as his teeth graze the delicate skin of your collarbone.
"Then we'll make it 15," he murmurs, his tongue licking a slow, sensual circle around your nipple. "20 if you can't keep quiet." He steps back for a moment and looks down at you, a smirk curling his lips as he takes in the sight of your flushed face and heaving chest. "Or maybe we'll just keep going until neither of us can think straight," he whispers, his eyes burning with desire.
"I'd like to see you try," you breathe, unable to stop yourself from baiting him further. The corners of his mouth twitch as his gaze rakes over you, and you can tell he's taking your challenge seriously. "I guess we'll see, won't we?" he murmurs, his voice husky and full of promise. His hands fall to his belt buckle, and the sight of his long fingers slowly working the leather free causes a jolt of anticipation to shoot through you.
"We definitely will," you reply, your eyes glued to his every move. You're so entranced by the sight of his belt being pulled loose, the leather slowly sliding through the metal clasp, that you almost miss his next words. "And when I'm finished with you, doll," he murmurs, his fingers working their way underneath his pants to slowly drag the zipper down, "you won't even remember your own name."
You swallow hard, his words sending a rush of heat straight to your core. The anticipation is killing you, and the fact that he's deliberately taking his time is only making it worse. Your heart races as he pulls his pants down, revealing his boxer-clad erection. You can't tear your eyes away as he reaches inside, freeing his throbbing member.
"So beautiful," he murmurs, stroking his thick shaft. "Look how hard I am for you, doll." Your breath catches in your throat as he continues to stroke himself, the tip of his cock glistening with precum. You can't help but let out a small whimper of desire, and the sound seems to spur him on.
His hand moves faster, pumping his shaft harder and faster.
"Do you want this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You can only nod, transfixed by the sight of him pleasuring himself right in front of you. "Then get on your knees."
Your whole body tingles with anticipation as you drop to your knees in front of him. The 'thump' sound echoes in the air, the wood floor biting your knees. Logan looks down at you, his gaze scorching your skin as his hand continues to move up and down his cock. "Suck me," he demands, his voice a low growl. You couldn't say no if you tried. His eyes were like liquid fire, and you can feel yourself melting under his gaze.
Your hands tremble slightly as you reach up to grasp his length, your fingers wrapping around the thick shaft. He feels so warm and hard, and you can't resist leaning in to flick the tip of your tongue over the head of his cock. The salty taste of him makes your mouth water, and you can't hold back anymore. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, savoring the velvety softness of his skin.
You start slow, swirling your tongue around the tip before moving down his length, inch by agonizing inch. His hand moves to the back of your head, gently guiding you as you work him over. If it's possible, he seems to get even harder as you take more and more of him into your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating, and you can't help but moan softly as he hits the back of your throat.
"Fuck," Logan groans, his voice ragged with need. "That's it, doll. Just like that." The hand on the back of your head tightens, urging you on. You obey his silent command and quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head up and down. The wet, lewd sounds of your mouth on his cock fill the air, and you can't get enough. His scent is all around you, and you breathe it in deeply, wanting to memorize every detail. You can't believe how turned on you are, the wetness between your thighs growing by the second. Your core throbbed with desire, and you couldn't resist sliding one hand between your thighs to relieve the ache. Logan notices the movement and grabs your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. "Uh uh," he murmurs, pulling you to your feet. "Not yet."
"But I-" you begin to protest, but he silences you with a heated kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with lust. "If you want to come, you're going to have to do it while I'm inside you."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, and he takes advantage of your momentary surprise to pull you towards the bed. You're practically dripping wet, and the thought of finally having him buried deep inside you has you panting with anticipation. The sheets are cool against your skin as he lays you down, his body covering yours like a blanket.
His fingers are at the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down in one swift motion. You lift your hips to help him slide them off, and they end up somewhere on the floor, not that either of you care. Logan leans down, his lips capturing yours once again.
As his tongue explores your mouth, his fingers slip between your folds, parting them and finding your entrance slick and ready. "Mmm, someone's eager," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice. He rubs his thumb over your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. "Oh god," you moan, squirming beneath him. His thumb keeps working your clit as his fingers slowly enter you, stretching and filling you. His fingers were thick, and the stretch felt divine.
He moves them slowly at first, working you open until he's able to slip a third finger inside. You cry out, the sensation bordering on too much. His thumb presses down on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles as his fingers curl, finding the spot that makes your eyes roll back in your head. You're so close already, but he seems determined to keep you on the edge.
"Logan, please," you beg, not caring how desperate you sound. "I need you." You can feel him smile against your lips, and he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His fingers are still moving inside you , although it feels more like torture than pleasure now. "I love it when you beg," he murmurs, his eyes alight with amusement. You moan, rocking your hips in an effort to get his fingers deeper inside you. He chuckles softly, his fingers withdrawing and leaving you aching with need. He chuckles and leans down, "That can be arranged," he murmurs, positioning himself at your entrance. You can feel the tip of his cock teasing your opening, and you whimper with need. "Tell me what you want, doll," he whispers, his cock pressing against you but not quite entering.
"I want you," you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist. "I want all of you."
"All of me, huh?" He slides the tip of his cock along your slick folds, and you moan in frustration.
You nod, unable to form words. He slowly enters you, and the stretch is even more intense than with his fingers. The feeling of him filling you up is almost too much, and your walls flutter around him, your body adjusting to his size. He couldn't have prepared you for his girth. It was perfect.
He holds still for a moment, his breathing ragged as he lets you adjust. "You okay?" he asks, his hands running soothing circles along your thighs. You nod again, unable to speak. You've never been more okay in your entire life.
As the last bit of tension eases, he slowly starts to move, his hips rolling in a gentle rhythm.
The feeling is exquisite, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts, urging him on. His pace quickens, and his hand slides up your thigh to your hip, his grip tightening. "You feel so fucking good," he groans, his fingers digging into your flesh.
Your hands move to his chest, exploring the hard planes of his torso as he drives into you over and over. He feels like steel covered in velvet, and you can't get enough. He was perfection, the kind that poets wrote about and artists tried to capture on canvas.
He shifts slightly, the angle changing, and suddenly his cock is hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars. You cry out, your nails digging into his skin. "Fuck," he groans, his fingers sliding between your folds to find your clit.
The feeling of his fingers on your most sensitive spot is too much, and you feel the familiar wave of pleasure building. He seems to sense it too, because he starts thrusting harder and faster, his fingers moving in perfect time. "I'm so close," you gasp, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter inside you.
"Me too," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Come for me, baby." The sound of his voice pushes you over the edge, and you explode, your vision going white as waves of pleasure crash through you. Your walls clamp down around him, and with one final thrust, he comes too, his cock pulsing inside you. He painted your walls with his seed, and you felt the heat from each spurt.
"Oh my god," you breathe, your body boneless and sated. Logan collapses on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel his heartbeat thundering against your chest, and you run your fingers through his hair, reveling in the afterglow.
"I told you 10 minutes was enough," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin below your ear. "Or was it 20?"
You swat his arm, a chuckle escaping your lips. "I'll show you 20," you tease, nipping his earlobe playfully. "Just give me a minute to recover."
"Oh, don't worry," he says, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. "We've got all the time in the world."
You lie there, snuggled against him, and think about how lucky you are. You never would've guessed, when you met him, that this would be where you'd end up. But you wouldn't change a thing.
"Uh Logan ," you murmur, his fingers drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. "When were you supposed to meet with that person?"
"10 minutes ago," he says, his tone nonchalant. He pulls a cigar out of his pocket, and you watch as he expertly rolls the wrapper off, his long fingers working the delicate paper. "Don't worry," he says, placing the cigar between his lips. "I'll call and reschedule. Right now, I have more important things to take care of." He gives you a pointed look, and you can't help but giggle.
"Why didn't you say something sooner about it?!" You sit up, the blissful haze from the sex wearing off as you realize how late it is. Logan shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I was busy," he says, gesturing to your naked bodies.
You try to be mad, but a giggle escapes your lips. "You're terrible," you scold, playfully smacking his chest. "They're probably wondering where you are!"
"Oh, I'm sure they're used to me being late," he replies, a grin spreading across his face. "Besides, there's nowhere else I'd rather be." He pulls you down for a kiss, and you melt into his arms.
"Oh.. one more thing .." you look up at him, he returns the favor by looking back with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, doll?"
"Could you.. change my bandages when you're done here? "I'm just worried about infections or something," you explain. "They're sticky and uncomfortable, and I can't stand it anymore." You tug at the fabric, trying to loosen it a little.
Logan sighs and nods, giving you a sympathetic look. "Sure thing.."
"We can wait a little though..." You sigh with a hint of sleep in your voice.
"You sure?"
You give him a soft nod. He replies with kisses to your forehead, holding you close as the warmth of his embrace envelops you. You're so happy, so content in that moment, that the rest of the world just falls away.
It was all you needed.
After a few moments, you fall asleep in his arms.