Page 29 of Protected By the Wolven

Her trust in me makes my heart clench, but I don’t waste a moment pulling off her white panties, yanking her knees wide, and kneeling between them.

“The Goddess smiled on you, Starlight.” I love calling her this. It’s the perfect name for her. “She made you so pretty… everywhere.”

I’m normally satisfied talking to my fellow Wolven Warriors in monosyllables and grunts; how did this female turn me into a poet?

“Petals. Pretty pink petals.” Though my words sound ridiculous to my own ears, Zoya hums with pleasure. The noise unleashes something in me, gives me permission to dive in.

I lap at her, immersed in my wolf-like origins as I use my long tongue to make slow, sensual drags along her slit, from her back hole to her little pleasure button. Touching her clit makes her yelp and thrash her head. I’ll go more slowly, since I’m not sure whether that noise meant it felt like heaven or was a wordless plea to be more gentle.

I take a self-guided tour as I lick her folds, pull them with my lips, tug them gently as I force myself not to bury my face as closely as it will go, just to cover my entire face in her juices.

Then I can’t control the urge and do it anyway. I practically consume her, painting my cheeks and chin and nose with her cream. Yips and soft growls bubble up from the back of my throat as I claim this woman in the most primitive way possible.

Her moans grow louder, and her fingernails dig into my shoulders. Despite that, I don’t stop. I let my instincts take over as I lap at her folds, tease her entrance with the tip of my tongue, and breathe in her scent.

She tastes sweet and tangy. Though I’ve never tasted anything like it, a picture of a night-blooming flower floods my mind. The wet, arousing sounds reverberate around the room as I suck her, providing suction as I devour her.

As I taste her, I suck on her clit as though it’s the most succulent morsel of food ever discovered. She shudders under me, accompanied by the wet sounds of my tongue on her most intimate spaces. Her mewls grow more desperate as her legs scissor at my hips.

I spread her open wider and thrust my tongue inside her, lapping deeper as my fangs strain against my lips. It’s as though the Goddess herself whispers in my ear, reminding me this is what I was made for—pleasing a female like this one. A woman who deserves the heights of bliss because she’s been through so much.

As I lap at her clit, I can’t help but let out a low rumble of joy from deep in my chest, feeling the heat of her arousal seeping into my fur as she writhes beneath me. Her scent intensifies, a heady mix of desperation and need that fills my nostrils and makes my cock punch against thin air.

My long tongue delves deeper, curling into the little indent of her G-spot while I tease her entrance with the tip of my fangs, waiting for her to beg me to take her. And she does. With a softmoan and a whimper, she opens her thighs impossibly wider, offering herself up for whatever I want. To make her needs more clear, she gasps, “Please.”

“Starlight,” I murmur against her flesh, the word so garbled she could never discern it with her ears. But she hears my affection. I’m sure of it.

My cock is pulsing, leaking, impatient, but nothing is more compelling than Zoya’s need. Sheathing my claws, I press against her plump little clit with a fingertip, listening to every rasp of her breath, noting every moan and gasp and plea until I’m riding it just right.

Her thighs squeeze me tighter, her breathing comes faster, harder. Her hips rise as her hands gently grip my head. For a moment, it seems she’s holding back, but then she clasps my head closer. I get the hint, press harder, lick deeper… her orgasm detonates with enough force to take down a fifty-story building.

My little Starlight, shy and modest under most circumstances, shakes wildly as her channel spasms around my tongue.

“Blin! Lash!” More syllables spill from her lips, but they’re in Ukrainian. I don’t know a word of it, but I’ll take every one of them as high praise.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Zoya

I’m panting and sweating and flying in an alternate universe. Maybe I’ve taken a trip to An’Wa. Lash not only nursed me through the most powerful release of my life, but he’s still got his head lodged firmly between my legs as he laps my juices, his tongue gentle, reluctant to leave my private spaces.

My knees have fallen to my sides, my muscles too spent to follow my orders. I’m not really sure why the first words to spill from my mouth are, “You called me Starlight.” Saying that out loud makes me feel as though I’m flying again.

“Magic,” I say. “Magic.”

Finally, he crawls up to join me, face to face. A jolt of embarrassment flies through me when I smell myself on his face,but I tamp it down. This is Lash. We’re just Lash and Zoya. In the privacy of this room, we can be ourselves with nothing to hide. No games. No secrets. And no worries about anything as mundane as our smells or the noises we make.

I kiss his mouth, then lick a stripe up the middle of his lips, making sure to catch a taste of myself there.

“I’m Starlight, Lash? You just earned a nickname, too, Magic Man. No. Magic Male.”

“Mmm.” There’s a satisfied look on his face, though he’s probably desperately needing his release. I think the happy-smug look is purely from giving me pleasure.

“Come inside me.”

He says nothing, but there’s a question in his glance.

“I’m ready. It’s what I want.” I doubt I need to tell him I’ve never said that to a man before. But it’s true. I want him… desperately.

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