Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I draw back and sink in deeper, and she rocks to meet me. My upper lip curls as I drive a little harder, my hips snapping to bury myself deeper with each thrust.
Aster thrashes beneath me, her head sliding over the luxury sheet, her eyes rolling back in her head with pleasure.
I give it to her hard–harder than I mean to, but I’m losing control. My wolf is in charge now, and he needs to claim Aster with a ferocity I’ve never felt before. I catch her nape to keep her head from hitting the wall each time I shove into her. I grip the fronts of her thighs, lifting her pelvis off the bed, so I can slam in hard. My loins slap against her ass with a satisfying smack, reminding me how much I want to spank her gorgeous ass again.
We dance together this way for an eternity. Or maybe just a few minutes. I lose track of time completely, my brain fully embedded in my balls.
Aster’s lips are moving. It takes me a moment to focus on what she’s saying. “Mark me.”
Mark. Her.
“Mine.” I don’t even know if the syllable is intelligible with the growl rising in my throat. My wolf goes insane. I drive into her so hard the bed bounces. My jaw hinges open and snap down on the place where her neck meets her shoulder. The moment I sink my teeth into her, I come like a freight train.
Even though I just orgasmed from the blowjob, an endless stream of cum pours out of me into my convulsing mate. Aster jerks and spasms beneath me, her ass squeezed up tight as her internal muscles clamp around my dick, milking it for every last drop of my essence.
I force my jaws to soften and ease my teeth out of her skin, licking the wounds to help them close and heal. Rocking my pelvis over hers, I shower kisses along her hairline, down her jaw, across her throat.
“Mine,” I repeat.
Aster smiles up at me, luminescent in her post-orgasmic glow. She touches the place I bit her, then touches my cheek. “I’m yours.”
Aster
Noah gazes down at me like I’m the most beautiful female in the world. “I’m so fucking lucky,” he says.
I bask in the glow of his regard. Every cell in my body seems to sing with joy at his claiming.
Mate, my wolf keeps whispering. Mate.
There’s a satisfaction that runs bone deep.
My wolf will keep speaking to me, even if the Grandmothers will now be silent. I reach for them, testing our connection, but feel nothing. Not even their disappointment with me over this choice. It’s just…quiet.
Which I guess is a relief.
My entire life I had this internalized sense of judgement. Maybe human kids have the idea of Santa Claus always watching. Or the Boogie Man. But I had the Grandmothers. Oma was always lecturing about not shaming myself with them. That they’d know if I broke a rule, and they’d tell her, so I could be properly punished.
Now they’re no longer in my head. No longer watching over my shoulder.
I’m…free.
I’m free!
I throw my arms around Noah, nearly strangling him in a wild hug. All the pressure to perform, to be a conduit for the pack’s visions, to survive in a toxic environment is gone.
It’s just me and Noah.
And soon, we’ll have Oriana and Liora. We’ll be a pack of four until Noah and I have pups of our own. We love each other. We’ll find our way.
I push away the nagging anxieties about whether we can safely get Liora and Oriana out without my Sight to guide us.
Or if Noah will lose his job. What Brick Blackthroat will do with us. Or worse, what the Adalwulfs will do if they ever find me. Kill me, most likely. If they find out I’ve lost the Sight, then I’m not only worth nothing to them, but I’ve taken their greatest asset from them. Such a loss would be punishable by death.
But with Noah, it feels like I can face the most insurmountable problems and come out on top. Look at the miracles that have already happened–I’m out of that prison tower! I won’t be magically bound to Aiden Adalwulf.
He eases out of me, and I release his neck. “One minute.” Noah holds up a finger as he slides off the bed then returns a moment later with a warm washcloth. He cleans between my legs then lays more kisses along my skin, traveling from my mons up to my throat.
I love you. He shows me the “ILY” sign, but this time his middle and index fingers are crossed.
I shape my fingers into the same sign.
“It means, I really love you,” he explains. “The R is for really.”
“I really love you,” I whisper as I wave my IRLY hand in front of his face.