Page 80 of Ravaged Wolf
He is. He’s in my heart. If I tune in, I can feel him there—happy, excited, and scared—just like me.
“You’re my mate,” I say and let my knees fall.
His wolf rumbles in the back of his throat as he spreads my folds with his fingers. “This okay?”
“Yeah.”
He licks me, all the way back to front with his flat, raspy tongue. I clench my butt cheeks. This is so much. I don’t want him back there, don’t want to worry about that.
He licks me again, starting farther forward, lapping my lips and then circling my clit, edging, careful not to poke it with his tongue. He does it again and again until my bottom relaxes. He’s not going there.
At first, I can’t focus on anything but the fact that it’s happening, and then it feels nice, and then it feels good. At some point, he scoops up my legs and tugs me closer. I glance down. All I can see is his strong forearms and the top of his curly head.
“Are you getting tired?” I ask softly. I’m not. I think I love this. The good, needy, squirmy feeling is snowballing, and I’m so scared if he stops, I’ll burst into tears.
“Never get tired of this.” His voice is muffled. He doesn’t even stop to answer. He keeps the same pace, the same trail, back and forth, easing off, and then teasing my aching, pulsing clit.
“It feels so good.”
I swear, I can feel him smile against my pussy.
“Do you need to come, beautiful?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
“I’m going to put my finger inside you, okay?”
I whine.
“Okay?” he repeats, still lapping, gently, with his wonderful, magical raspy tongue. “I need to hear you say okay.”
“Yes,” I say, my frustrated hands clutching his hair of their own accord. He laughs softly.
“You’ve got to let go, baby.” He gently untangles my grip and then slips a finger inside me as his tongue continues its tormenting circles.
A guttural moan I’ve never heard before is ripped from my throat. I like this. It feels right. Almost enough.
“More,” I pant.
His wolf growls, and the sound makes my pussy vibrate. Everything swirls tighter, pulses harder, and I’m teetering, almost there, frustratingly, agonizingly almost freaking there, and he slides a second finger inside me, and I crash. Pleasure floods me from my belly outward, rushing through my veins to the top of my head and the tips of my toes.
I growl. Not my wolf. Me.
Trevor chuckles, rising from his knees, licking his mouth clean as he crawls up the bed, tugging me higher with him until not even my feet are hanging over the sides.
Part of me is melting, preening with the pleasure, but as the rush ebbs, another part of me is bracing. I can’tnotremember. He’s a male. The same male. Not the sameperson, but the body is the same. He props himself above me and gazes down. There’s pain in his eyes. He knows what I’m thinking.
Maybe he’s trying not to remember, too.
“Hi,” he says, brushing a stray hair out of my face.
“Hi,” I reply with the same seriousness.
He kisses my lips. Once. Twice. Like he can’tnotwith our mouths so close.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks.
“No. But I’m scared. What about you?”
