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And as he stripped my leggings off, his chest was rumbling again. The sound of his satisfaction made me even hotter. “You wear thongs?”
“Basically required with leggings,” I managed to say.
His hands slid up my bare thighs, parting my legs wider so he could see more of me, covered only by a thin strip of nude lace that matched my bra.
My breaths came out rapidly, my eyes fixed on his big hands as they slid over my skin.
A cry escaped me when I watched his thumb slide over my clit once, and again, over the top of my panties. When he slowly began dragging them down my thighs, my gaze remained fixed on the hand he left at my core, still working me.
“You like watching me touch you, Si?” I loved the way he shortened my name like I’d shortened his.
“So much,” I managed.
He left his thumb on my clit as he grabbed a pillow off the couch with his free hand, then tucked it behind my head. “Then watch me taste you.”
My breathing grew shallow as he lowered himself between my thighs.
And slowly dragged his tongue over my clit.
A louder, more desperate cry escaped me.
My hips bucked as he licked me again.
My body trembled.
The sounds of my pleasure filled the air when he dragged his teeth over my clit, bringing me release like I’d never experienced it before.
“Fucking hell,” I moaned, as I came down from the high. “I had no idea I could feel like that.”
His chest rumbled in satisfaction. “Keep your eyes on me. You can give me another climax.”
I groaned, but didn’t dare look away.
It took longer the next time—but neither of us gave a damn about the time.
He made me cry out again.
And again.
My body felt like a damn noodle when he finally dragged his mouth down my inner thigh, sucking lightly before he pulled his lips away. “You’re a fucking dream, Sienna.”
He was the dream, not me.
But I wasn’t about to tell him that.
Not when it might stop him from wanting a redo of the night we’d shared.
Or even more.
He grabbed my leggings off the floor and helped me pull them up my shaking legs. I was still drenched between my thighs, thanks to both his mouth and my body’s reaction to it, but I didn’t ask him for a towel.
I knew werewolves enough to know he’d like the thought of leaving his mark on me like that, even though we weren’t mates.
Werewolves were possessive as hell, after all.
Myself included, though I’d never had a reason to be possessive of anyone other than my best friends.
He pulled my sweater over my head without my bra, but I was too blissed-out to even notice.
