quickened. I gave myself to her, losing thought of anything but the way she felt in my mouth and her desire coating my lips. The world narrowed to my tongue dancing over her hot flesh and to her moans filling the room like music.
Her muscles tensed beneath my hand and I sucked harder.
“Kassandra.” She moaned my name again.
The sight of Lenorre throwing her head back in pleasure almost undid me. Passion drove me as I pushed her to the edge. The sound of her pleasure filled my ears, sweet and encouraging. Lenorre moaned, going rigid under my touch.
Then I moaned, the sound muffled against her. My hands tensed, nails digging into the skin of her thighs. An invisible pleasure built unexpectedly at the base of my spine and spilled through me. I tore my mouth from Lenorre and cried out.
----
Chapter Eight
Everything was hazy as I tried to breathe past the pulse thundering against the side of my neck. Lenorre seemed to be doing the same. I rested against her thigh, and she met my gaze with a light and breathless laugh.
“What?” I panted.
“You.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“You look so…spent.”
I drew a deep breath. “What the hell was that?”
“Wondrous,” she said, falling back on the pillows. “Exciting. What is the term they use nowadays? Mind-blowing?”
“Yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Your orgasm?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Projection,” she said.
“You pushed your orgasm onto me?”
“Yes.” Her expression was damn near mischievous.
“I’ve heard of people projecting,” I said, “but never of someone projecting an orgasm.”
“You’ve been amongst the humans too long, Kassandra.”
To that, I didn’t know what to say, except, “I need a bath.”
A shower was out of the question. One, I didn’t feel like standing up. Two, I wasn’t sure I could.
“So do I.” Something about the way she said it sounded suggestive.
“Oh, no.” I sat up. “No more. After last night, and this afternoon…” Thinking about last night, I looked and, sure enough, I’d torn her mattress all to hell again. The first time I’d torn the mattress apart was when the beast was trying to rip through my skin. It was also the first time I’d shifted into a bird.
I gave Lenorre an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Did you have to replace the last one?”
“The last mattress? Yes.”
“Lenorre, I’m—”
“Kassandra, do not worry about it.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “Besides,” she smiled like a lazy cat, “that is not the only thing you tore.”
My hands were still on her thighs. Confusion made me furrow my brows. A moment later, something warm trickled over my hands. I flicked my gaze to Lenorre’s thigh. I’d lost myself to a moment of passion, and when the orgasm had shaken my body into pure oblivion I had cut her. The blood was very bright against the stark white of her skin, but the wounds were already beginning to heal. I stared for several moments, wanting to run my tongue across those scratches. It wasn’t entirely the wolf’s desire that motivated me, although the scent of fresh blood was making the wolf pace, disturbed by the fact that it was Lenorre bleeding but wanting a taste nonetheless.
I shook the thought away.
“Kassandra,” she mused, “if I was so afraid of your nails, I would’ve asked you to cut them before we went to bed.”
I hadn’t cut her with my claws, but with my human nails. Not a lot of women in law enforcement have long nails. In fact, for obvious reasons, not many lesbians that I know have long nails either. Maybe it had to do with being a werewolf. I was used to having that defense and felt naked without it. But if I did this kind of damage with them, I could hurt someone I cared about in human form or in wolf form. Thoughts of what I could accidentally do to Lenorre during a moment of passion overwhelmed me. I started to draw away.
Lenorre untied the knot at her wrist with quick, light movements. She stood,
Her muscles tensed beneath my hand and I sucked harder.
“Kassandra.” She moaned my name again.
The sight of Lenorre throwing her head back in pleasure almost undid me. Passion drove me as I pushed her to the edge. The sound of her pleasure filled my ears, sweet and encouraging. Lenorre moaned, going rigid under my touch.
Then I moaned, the sound muffled against her. My hands tensed, nails digging into the skin of her thighs. An invisible pleasure built unexpectedly at the base of my spine and spilled through me. I tore my mouth from Lenorre and cried out.
----
Chapter Eight
Everything was hazy as I tried to breathe past the pulse thundering against the side of my neck. Lenorre seemed to be doing the same. I rested against her thigh, and she met my gaze with a light and breathless laugh.
“What?” I panted.
“You.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“You look so…spent.”
I drew a deep breath. “What the hell was that?”
“Wondrous,” she said, falling back on the pillows. “Exciting. What is the term they use nowadays? Mind-blowing?”
“Yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Your orgasm?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Projection,” she said.
“You pushed your orgasm onto me?”
“Yes.” Her expression was damn near mischievous.
“I’ve heard of people projecting,” I said, “but never of someone projecting an orgasm.”
“You’ve been amongst the humans too long, Kassandra.”
To that, I didn’t know what to say, except, “I need a bath.”
A shower was out of the question. One, I didn’t feel like standing up. Two, I wasn’t sure I could.
“So do I.” Something about the way she said it sounded suggestive.
“Oh, no.” I sat up. “No more. After last night, and this afternoon…” Thinking about last night, I looked and, sure enough, I’d torn her mattress all to hell again. The first time I’d torn the mattress apart was when the beast was trying to rip through my skin. It was also the first time I’d shifted into a bird.
I gave Lenorre an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Did you have to replace the last one?”
“The last mattress? Yes.”
“Lenorre, I’m—”
“Kassandra, do not worry about it.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “Besides,” she smiled like a lazy cat, “that is not the only thing you tore.”
My hands were still on her thighs. Confusion made me furrow my brows. A moment later, something warm trickled over my hands. I flicked my gaze to Lenorre’s thigh. I’d lost myself to a moment of passion, and when the orgasm had shaken my body into pure oblivion I had cut her. The blood was very bright against the stark white of her skin, but the wounds were already beginning to heal. I stared for several moments, wanting to run my tongue across those scratches. It wasn’t entirely the wolf’s desire that motivated me, although the scent of fresh blood was making the wolf pace, disturbed by the fact that it was Lenorre bleeding but wanting a taste nonetheless.
I shook the thought away.
“Kassandra,” she mused, “if I was so afraid of your nails, I would’ve asked you to cut them before we went to bed.”
I hadn’t cut her with my claws, but with my human nails. Not a lot of women in law enforcement have long nails. In fact, for obvious reasons, not many lesbians that I know have long nails either. Maybe it had to do with being a werewolf. I was used to having that defense and felt naked without it. But if I did this kind of damage with them, I could hurt someone I cared about in human form or in wolf form. Thoughts of what I could accidentally do to Lenorre during a moment of passion overwhelmed me. I started to draw away.
Lenorre untied the knot at her wrist with quick, light movements. She stood,
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