Page 50 of The Howling
In the morning,I’m face to chest with a very furry monster. Reavely sleeps on his side, arms and legs held at right angles, and I’m in between.
I’m also a little sore in my lady parts, but there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of mess. As I wriggle around, I hear a sleepy, rumbling yawn.
Reavely gazes down on me.
“I cleaned you up, little mate, with my tongue. I hope you didn’t mind,” he rasps, his voice filled with smoke and gravel.
I think about it. In fact, it makes a change. Reavely took care of me and he did a great job.
“I don’t mind.” My voice is hoarse. And I know exactly why.
How many orgasms did this big beast give me?
It’s his turn to wriggle, and before I know it, his head is between my legs and his tongue in my pussy.
“You taste like the sun,” he murmurs between laps. I have hold of his mass of hair steering him to where I want him, and he isn’t complaining.
Neither am I. This is certainly a good way to wake up.
“How can you know what the sun tastes like?” I half groan as he turns his attentions to my clit, sending me spiralling.
“I’ve tasted honey, and it is made from the sun,” Reavely says, redoubling his efforts, adding in a thick finger which heslides inside me. “You taste like honey and you taste like the sun,” he rumbles, not slowing down in any way.
Reavely seems to know things about my body I can’t possibly imagine he has had any experience of, but he’s certainly intuitive as an orgasm fires through me like lightning, increasing my grip on his hair as he licks me through it, making obscene noises as he takes everything I have.
When I open my eyes, he’s grinning at me and wiping the back of his hand over his lips.
“Such a tasty mate.”
“Reavely, you can’t keep doing that,” I say, my breath finally returning.
“Why?” he asks, his brow furrowed. “I like to pleasure my mate because she gripped my prick and knot so tightly I thought she was never going to let go.” He gazes at me with a look so innocent, so needy, my heart flips in my chest. “And you take pleasure from my tongue, I take pleasure from your taste, so why not?”
“When you put it like that.” I would shrug, but Reavely has left me boneless. “I suppose.”
“Now you need food.” He vaults out of bed.
Wait, what? He doesn’t expect anything in return?
“What do you like?” he asks. “More hinnies? Yes, more hinnies.”
And, yet again, before I can say anything, he’s gone. Leaving me wondering exactly what just happened.
What I’ve just unleashed.
REAVELY
Iam mated and mating isincredible.
The feeling of being sheathed in my Wynter is something I want to experience over and over, along with her taste and scent and everything about her.
I want my mate comfortable, secure, and filled with pups. I want to make my castle a place to live again.
The Duegar have surpassed themselves as I reach the table in the great hall. I call out my thanks as I fill a platter with all the things I think Wynter might like and a few things I would like myself before returning to the bedroom.
To find it empty of her.
Her scent hangs heavy in the air, delicious, perfect, intoxicating. But she is missing.
