Page 52 of The Thief

His weight came off me in a flash.

How in the world was I going to survive this? It seemed impossible for the sex to top the foreplay. But the anticipation was torturous, like the rumbling of thunder before a heavy downpour.

My eyes had adjusted to the light in the room, and Bear was sitting on the couch. He’d taken his pajama bottoms completely off and was gloriously naked and aroused. His legs were slightly apart, hands to his sides. Bear was a handsome man from his beard to his big feet.

I prowled to the foot of the bed like a predator.

“Sit up on your knees,” he said. “I want to look at you.”

This was my nightmare come true—sitting naked under the scrutinizing gaze of a man.

Bear’s eyes glittered with intent, and he raked his teeth across his bottom lip when I moved my hands down my body. Instead of disappointment, he looked at me with wanton desire and nothing else. That look in his eyes gave me confidence to shed my insecurities in his presence.

Putting my feet on the floor, I padded over to him. When I bent over and anchored my hands on the back of the sofa, I placed a chaste kiss on his lips. His fingers lightly traced a pathway to my rear end.

Instead of straddling him, I turned around and sat on his lap. Bear grunted when I pressed my back to his furry chest.

“You’re so soft,” he said, memorizing my body with his fingers.

I cried out when he pinched my nipple and then cupped his big hand between my legs.

Bear stroked me diligently, like a man who had spent years practicing his technique.

I was wet and needy, and he pleasured me with unhurried attention while kissing my neck and shoulder. Then his kissing ceased as his heated breaths panted against my skin. Goose bumps erupted on my arms when carnal hunger pulsed through my body like a heartbeat.

He circled faster, his other hand gripping my inner thigh.

With my hands around the back of his head, I pushed against his erection.

“You’re killing me,” he rasped against my neck.

“Please, yes” was all I could whisper, rocking my hips.

“You’re so sweet. I want to taste you.” Bear changed his rhythm in circles.

Now I knew what his guitar felt like.

Stroke it like a lover, he’d said.

I reached down and stopped him. “Hold on,” I panted, not wanting to orgasm so soon. “It’s too fast. I don’t wanna finish yet.”

I ached for him. When I leaned forward to get up, he grunted as if breaking contact caused him physical pain.

Facing him, I anchored my knees on either side. Bear drew my nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue against it. I rested my body against his chest while he sucked hard enough that I felt a sharp sting of pleasure.

The desperation in his eyes beckoned me to give absolute consent, and his head lolled back.

I guided him to my entrance and slowly let him penetrate me. He was thick around, so I took my time until he filled me. Bear pinned me with a feral gaze as I clutched his shoulders, bracing myself to take and be taken. My mind was so caught up in the logistics of sex that I had to ignore it and trust my body to guide me.

Once I’d taken him to the hilt, I bounced up and down in quick motions.

He grunted loudly, his eyebrows pressed so hard they formed two deep lines between them.

“It feels so good,” he rasped. “So tight.”

The hungry look on his face did me in. We had built this pleasure to a crescendo, and I was ready to explode. I needed to find my release, and fast.

His chest hair brushed against me when I leaned into him, seeking my orgasm at a frantic pace.

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