The King's Return

52| MINE

AMIRA'S POV

When I finally stirred from sleep, time seemed irrelevant. The soft glow of morning filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room, but none of it mattered. All that truly mattered was the comforting warmth of Logan’s embrace.

His arms were wrapped around me, holding me close as if even in sleep he couldn't bear to let me go. He lay next to me, lost in slumber, and the gentle curve of his lips hinted at dreams filled with happiness.

Seeing him so content and peaceful, made my heart swell with an overwhelming mix of love and gratitude. I felt a serene joy, a profound sense of belonging, knowing that I was the reason for that smile, even in his dreams. It was a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, one I wished I could hold onto forever.

Reflecting on our past, it’s astonishing how far we’ve come. There was a time when our relationship was defined by hesitation and uncertainty. In Manchester, Logan had always been so patient, insisting we wait until I felt I was completely ready to be his.

His kisses had been the limit of our intimacy, a silent promise that he was willing to wait for me for however long I needed. Each kiss was a tender reassurance of his love, his way of telling me that even though he wished we could do more, he still loved me despite my reservations.

I had always assumed our relationship would remain in that delicate balance until I told him I was prepared for more. I know he has always felt the same aching anticipation that I did, the same yearning for something deeper each and every time we kissed.

Despite my inexperience, I’m no stranger to conversations about s*x. Being a virgin doesn’t make me naïve; I understand my own desires well enough. I’ve always listened to girls in school and in the pack discuss their relationships and their passions, and I’ve absorbed every detail.

Each time Logan’s lips met mine, a spark ignited within me from my toes and straight to my core and I became acutely aware of the deeper longing that lingered beneath the surface. His kisses, while sweet and fulfilling, left a hollow ache that whispered of something more, something yet to be discovered.

There had always been an unspoken hunger in the way our bodies responded to each other, a magnetic pull that was becoming increasingly difficult to resist. The tension between what was and what could be grew with each passing day, filling me with both excitement and fear.

When he kissed me today, I thought he was just going to stop there, as he had done so many times before. The familiarity of his lips on mine was comforting, a known rhythm in our evolving dance. But this time, there was something different in his touch, a deeper urgency that I hadn’t felt before.

Even though I somehow challenged him unintentionally, playfully teasing him with my own desires, I didn’t think he was going to act on it. His patience had been a constant, and I assumed this moment would be no different.

But maybe I should have known when he pulled me onto his lap, his strength surprising me. Just a moment before, he seemed too exhausted to even wake up from his bed. His sudden vitality should have been a clear signal that this time, things would be different.

I should have known I wasn’t going to escape from him—not that I wanted to. There was a fire in his eyes, a determination that both excited and scared me. His hands, usually gentle and reassuring, were now firm and possessive, guiding me towards a place I’d never been but desperately wanted to explore.

Now, the problem is that after he gave me that first orgasm, I wanted more. It was as if a dam had broken inside me, releasing a flood of pent-up desires and emotions. The intensity of that first orgasm was overwhelming, a revelation of what my body was capable of feeling.

I wanted more than that, even though I knew I wasn’t going to get what I wanted, at least not yet. The satisfaction of that initial release only heightened my craving for a deeper, more complete fulfilment. My body ached with a new kind of need, one that only Logan could satisfy.

I knew I had the power to get what I wanted, and all I had to do was tell Logan that I was ready. The thought of him responding to my readiness, of him doing unimaginable things to me, sent a thrilling shiver down my spine. I really wanted that, more than I ever had before.

This desire was new, raw, and exhilarating, a stark contrast to the initial reluctance I felt about being fully mated to him. Somehow, with that first orgasm, Logan had awakened something deep within me, something primal and urgent.

When I didn’t want to be mated to Logan initially, I was worried about intimacy, about what it would mean to be truly close to someone. But now, those fears seemed almost distant, overshadowed by this newfound craving.

I’m not going to lie, I’ve always wondered what an orgasm would feel like and I’ve heard girls at school and in the pack talk about touching themselves, about exploring their own bodies but I could never muster the courage to be the one to give myself that experience.

Back then, I had wanted Bastian to be my first, to share that special moment with him. When I realized he wasn’t my mate, I didn’t think much about intimacy at all. The idea of self-exploration never appealed to me; it felt incomplete.

When Logan brought me to that peak, the sensation was beyond anything I had ever imagined—intense, overwhelming, and utterly consuming. What I didn’t expect, though, was to fall asleep right after that. It was as if the sheer magnitude of the experience had drained every ounce of energy from my body, leaving me floating in a blissful haze.

I don’t even know if I should be embarrassed by that. Part of me felt vulnerable and exposed, unsure if it was normal to be so completely undone by my first real encounter with such pleasure. I don’t even have anyone I could trust with that information, someone who could reassure me that what I felt was okay.

If I call Maya, she would undoubtedly ask me why I hadn’t had s*x with Logan yet. She would be curious, maybe even incredulous, and I am not ready to answer that question and the many more that would follow.

Maya may be my best friend, but she has a different outlook on relationships and intimacy. She might not understand my hesitation, my need to move at my own pace.

Besides, I also don’t want to disrupt her time with Julian. They’ve been separated for far too long, and I know how much she’s missed him. Their reunion is precious, and I wouldn’t dream of intruding on their happiness with my own uncertainties.

I decided to take a shower so that I could clear my head. Carefully, I untangled Logan’s hands from my waist and slipped out of bed, making my way to the bathroom with quiet, deliberate steps, ensuring I didn’t wake him.

A shudder ran up my spine when I realised how drastically different the frigid tiles beneath my feet were from the warmth I had just left behind.

Once in the bathroom, I closed the door softly and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My shirt hung loosely on my shoulders, the buttons all undone. By some miracle, I was still wearing it, even though my sweatpants and panties were long forgotten. I was basically naked.

I had never been naked in front of people for anything other than shifting. The only other exception was with Maya. We had a bond that allowed for a different kind of intimacy—one born from years of friendship and countless sleepovers where we shared everything, including showers. With her, there was never any awkwardness, just the comfort of familiarity and trust.

I looked at myself again in the full-length mirror and realized that I actually had a perfect body. For the first time, I truly saw myself: a flat stomach, graceful curves, even though they weren’t as pronounced as I sometimes wished, and beautiful legs. I had never paid much attention to my appearance, my focus always on other things.

Now, standing here, I saw myself through new eyes. It was strange because I never really cared how my body looked before. But now, I found myself wanting to have the perfect body, not just for myself, but so that Logan would be proud to have me as his mate and wife.

This newfound awareness of my body and its potential for beauty filled me with a mix of pride and insecurity. I wanted Logan to see me as desirable, to know that I was worthy of his love and admiration. The thought of him looking at me with approval and desire made my heart race.

I stepped into the shower and turned on the hot water, letting the warmth envelop me. As soon as the water touched my skin, my mind drifted back to the moment Logan’s hands had caressed me, his touch igniting a fire within me.

Without thinking, my hands went to my breasts, mirroring Logan’s actions from earlier. The memory of his touch was so vivid, so powerful, that it felt as if he were here with me, his hands guiding mine.

A shiver ran through me as I gently squeezed my breasts, my fingers tracing the paths Logan’s had taken. My body responded instinctively, arching towards the water, towards the memory of his touch. Each movement brought back the intense emotions of our little activity.

My hands moved down my body, exploring with newfound curiosity and confidence. The warm water cascaded over me, heightening the sensations and washing away any lingering doubts. I closed my eyes, letting the memory of Logan’s touch guide me, my body awakening to its own potential for pleasure.

I imagined his hands were the ones touching me as I moved them from my stomach and back to my breasts and I pinched both my n*****s softly. The sensation sent a jolt through my body, and I couldn't help but moan a little. The sound of my own pleasure surprised me, and I realized I needed more than just touching my breasts. My left hand moved down, tracing a path over my stomach, until it reached where I wanted it to be.

“Stop it, amor.” Logan’s voice, deep and husky, brought me back to the real world. His hand covered mine, intensifying the need I felt with each touch. “Your moans make it hard for me to control myself.”

I thought he was going to take my hand away, to halt my exploration, but instead, he moved it lower, guiding me. “You have no idea what I want to do right now, and I am trying very hard to keep my promise, but you’re making it really, really hard for me.” His words were a mixture of restraint and longing, and they sent a thrill through me.

Just as my fingers reached the edge of where I craved his touch the most, he moved my hand away, and I whined at the loss. But before I could protest further, he turned me to face him, and I gasped in surprise. His eyes were dark with desire, and his expression was one of raw, unfiltered need.

“Did you really have to touch yourself?” Logan asked, his voice a low, rumbling growl as he took both my hands and pinned them above my head. My back hit the cool bathroom wall, the contrast heightening the heat radiating from my body.

“You… You turned me into this,” I replied, my voice trembling but firm. I didn’t know where I found the courage to say that, but it was the truth. I wouldn’t have been here, fantasizing about his hands on my body, if he hadn’t ignited this fire within me.

“Really?” He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending shivers down my spine. I swear, I could feel my juices running down my thighs. Somehow, that was the sexiest thing Logan had done since I met him. His eyes flashed red, and I knew his wolf was making its presence known.

“Stop trying to make me lose control, amor. I’m a minute away from burying my c**k inside your little p***y, and we both know you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

“Then what’s stopping you? Even I want to know what it would feel like to have you inside me.” I was surprised to hear him talk dirty, but I was even more surprised by my response, bold and unfiltered.

“Don’t tempt me, Amira. We both know what will happen if I do that, and there will be no coming back. It will take but a moment for me to bite you here.” He brushed his canines against my neck, and I couldn’t breathe for a second, the anticipation and fear mingling in a heady cocktail of emotions.

“And then I would pick you up and impale your tight p***y on my c**k right here in this bathroom because the bed would be too far. Then I would drive into you until we both c*m, and then you would be bound to me forever. You would wake up tomorrow as the queen of all werewolves whether you want it or not because, like I said, there would be no shortcuts in our bond and no coming back. Do you want that?”

My heart rate had somehow increased, and I gulped, feeling a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. I had never seen Logan this way before, and even though he both terrified and excited me, I knew I had started something I couldn’t handle.

“I thought so as well,” he said, his eyes darkening as he looked at me. He must have seen something in my eyes to say that. “Then stop provoking me, amor, or you might not like the consequences.” He dropped to his knees before I could respond. The sight of Logan, a king, kneeling before me was both humbling and exhilarating. I wanted to tell him that a king kneels for no one, but the look he gave me told me to keep quiet.

“Now, can I do what I planned to do when I entered this bathroom?” he asked, not breaking eye contact. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded, my breath catching in my throat.

He didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he took one of my legs and put it over his shoulder, burying his face between my thighs. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, and I cried out, my hands instinctively reaching for something to hold onto.

Logan’s tongue moved with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through my body. My head fell back against the wall, my eyes fluttering closed as I surrendered to the sensations. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he worked his magic, and I felt myself being pulled further and further into a world of bliss.

My moans filled the small bathroom, echoing off the walls. Logan’s growl of approval vibrated against my core, adding a new layer of pleasure. His tongue danced and teased, exploring every sensitive spot, driving me wild with need.

“Oh God,” I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “Logan! Please make me come. Please...”

He didn’t relent, his movements becoming more focused and intense. I could feel the pressure building, a tidal wave of ecstasy threatening to crash over me. My body trembled, my legs quivering with the effort to stay upright.

“Amira,” he murmured against my skin, his voice rough and filled with desire. “Come for me, amor.”

His words were my undoing. With a final, powerful stroke of his tongue, the wave of pleasure crashed over me, and I shattered, crying out his name as my body convulsed in bliss. Logan held me through it, his touch grounding me as I rode out the waves of my orgasm.

As the sensations slowly ebbed, I slumped against the wall, my breathing ragged. Logan stood, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and possessiveness. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

Logan leaned in and kissed me, the taste of my own pleasure still on his lips. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. The bond between us felt stronger than ever.

“Mine,” he said with a soft growl, his voice a promise.

"Yours."