He watched from his perch above, frowning down his muzzleat her, and the sight just made her laugh harder.
This poor,sweetman!
Before he could get too grumpy, though, Maeve smacked her hands on either side of his dear face and pulled him down by his cheek tufts to her. “Take advantage of me more,” she insisted before claiming his open, shocked mouth in more deep, laughing kisses.
16
Maeve hadn’t been so preoccupied with memories of a steamy tryst in…quite a while, perhaps ever. Her body still tingled with the aftermath of Soren’s touch even the morning after, and she positively floated through her morning ablutions, breakfast, and walk to school.
Fates, if she let herself think about it for more than a moment, the phantom sensation of his tongue swept across her center, throwing off her balance.
She’d been touched and kissed down there before, by lovers more practiced, more skilled, but never so enthusiastically. Maeve hadn’t bothered expecting it from partners—why would she want to lay there knowing he was doing it only so she’d reciprocate when she could bring herself more pleasure with her own hand? Maeve wanted enthusiasm, to have her partner lose himself, and that was happening for neither of them if he viewed oral stimulation on her as a chore to be done.
Whereas Soren…Maeve shivered as she set down the little bundle of her luncheon on her desk. He touched her as thoughhe meant to devour her, like he couldn’t get enough.
I want that again. Badly.
Perhaps it’d been safer not to know what she’d been missing, but for now, it was all she could think of.
She could hardly keep her focus through morning lessons. More than once, Kiri or Liese had to remind her where they were in the lecture.
“Are you all right, miss?” asked Liese finally.
Was she? Maeve didn’t feel quite right. A needy sort of desperation had lodged in her lower belly, an ache that wouldn’t subside. Every spare thought was of Soren and what they’d done together, making the ache even worse.
Fates, this was starting to feel out of control again. It wasn’t reassuring, but then again, she didn’t dislike it as much as before. Ache and long as she did, there was still something delicious about it.
At luncheon, as the children played rowdily on the green, Maeve spotted a familiar tail swishing on the other side of the open shed door. Jumping up, lunch forgotten, Maeve hustled over, none of the children paying her any mind.
Poking around the shed, she found Soren’s broad back turned to her as he put away gardening implements.
He had to have heard her coming, his ears turned backward to track the sound of her footsteps, but Maeve still couldn’t help ducking to catch that swishing tail. A choked sound caught in his throat, and Soren jerked around.
Her playfulness fell away at the sight of him. Need throbbed between her legs as she stepped in closer, dropping his tail to run her hands up his chest. It was a travesty she hadn’t seen him totally bare yet and decided that’s what she wanted—after.
“Miss Maeve…” he rumbled, even as a paw came up to hold her by the waist.
“I need you to do that thing with your tongue again,” she saidwithout preamble. She needed it something fierce.
His thick brows rose, and for half a moment, Maeve waited with expectant dread for that smug, arrogant look to overcome his face, the one men got when they knew a woman wanted something from them. Maeve hated that expression, hated how it made her feel the loser and the man a winner somehow.
Soren made no such expression, though. Instead, he nodded, mien serious. He ran his claws through her hair, pushing it back and cradling her head as he pulled her closer.
“Whatever you need.”
Oh.
Just like that, her desperation turned to anticipation. The wicked edge of it softened into something far more languid and pleasurable.
Held tight to his warmth, Maeve enjoyed the simple, profound sensation of being held. Fates, this had never felt so good before.
“Will you kiss me?” she whispered. “To tide me over?”
He considered her a moment, his claws gently digging in at her waist and head. Her pulse fluttered to feel the small pricks.
His gaze flicked over her head, assessing whether any of the children had noticed them no doubt. Maeve thought he was about to deny her when his head dipped to level their gazes.
Her heart actually skipped a beat as she watched his slitted pupils dilate.
