“More,” I find myself saying, even though he can’t hear me. I burrow the fingers of one hand into his hair and urge him on.
He lifts his face and smiles at me, his lips coated in my juices.
“More,” I say again.
“I heard you.” He’s still smiling. He taps his temple. “In my head. Your words projected into my head.” Wonder and celebration shine in his eyes, and I’m hit with the significance of his words.
I project my thoughts into his head without even trying.
That must be how he found me in the tower’s tunnel.
Mate, my wolf insists.
But I can’t focus on that problem because Noah returns his tongue between my legs. He’s more aggressive this time, laving me with his perfect tongue then using his thumbs to part my labia. He suctions his lips around my clit and pulls at the same time he strokes his thumb over my slick entrance.
“Please,” I beg. “Please, please, please.” I grip his head, my fingers winding into his hair and tugging. I need more.
I need it all.
No–not all, not…oh, fate. Oh fate.
I scream, my hips bucking against Noah’s mouth as he continues to suck hard on my clit. “Yes! Yes, please! Yes, yes, yes!” My internal muscles squeeze and pulse in a glorious release.
Oh fate, it feels so good. I’ve never experienced this kind of ecstasy.
Didn’t know it existed.
When the tremors finally quiet, I tug Noah’s head up and throw myself at him, winding my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Clinging to him with a desperation I don’t understand.
Noah lifts me off the counter, his forearm propped under my butt, his other arm banded around my waist.
I’ve got you, Starshine, he projects the words into my mind.
I burst into tears.
Chapter Twelve
Noah
Oh fuck.
The scent of Aster’s tears drains all sexual aggression from me. My wolf was glorying over making her come, but now he whines, needing me to fix whatever went wrong. At least I have the privilege of holding her through it.
I’m sorry. She speaks telepathically. The apology only worries me more.
“Sorry for what?” I ask out loud, except I can’t see her lips with her face pressed into my neck like this.
She lifts her head and looks at me. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” I think that’s what she says. It’s hard to tell when her lips twist with emotion.
Lip reading is imperfect at best. Most say it’s only 30 percent accurate, but I usually get the general idea. I have the benefit of a keen sense of smell to read people’s emotions which helps me decode a little more.
She wipes her tears. “Thank you.” She attempts to sign thank you, but instead signs fuck you, flicking her fingers under her chin which is adorable.
Her smile is sheepish. “That was incredible.”
Pride kicks through me. “Yeah?” I smile.
“Yeah.”
