Page 63 of Bear Naked Truth
He reached for her, pulled her against him in one swift motion, and kissed her.
She kissed him back harder.
Desperate. Fierce. Real.
They stumbled through the front door, all breathless heat and desperation. Dorian’s hands were already beneath her sweater, tugging it up, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her back like he couldn’t wait to feel all of her.
Autumn’s mouth was hot and wild against his—tongue tasting him like she’d starved for it. And maybe she had.
Upstairs, the door slammed shut behind them. Clothes hit the floor without ceremony. His shirt. Her sweater. Her leggings. His jeans. All of it discarded in a trail of need leading to the bed.
This wasn’t soft like before.
This was the kind of need that clawed at bone. The kind that had waited too long and held too much.
“Goddamn it,” Dorian growled as he backed her toward the mattress, eyes burning with golden heat. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Autumn’s breath hitched, fingers curling around the waistband of his boxers. “Show me.”
He kissed her again, brutal and claiming. When their bodies hit the bed, he was already between her thighs, pulling her panties down her legs, slow enough to make her whimper, fast enough to tell her he couldn’t wait another second.
She was soaked. Her pussy glistened in the low light, swollen with want. He groaned when he saw it, when the scent of her hit him—earth and lilac and something uniquelyhers, already seared into his memory.
“Fuck, Autumn,” he murmured, dragging the flat of his tongue from her entrance to her clit in one long, reverent stroke. “I could spend days between your legs.”
Her head rolled back, a moan slipping free as her thighs instinctively closed around his head. “Dorian, please…”
He gripped her hips tighter, holding her open for him, and went back to work. Tongue flicking, swirling. His mouth devoured her, his stubble rasping against her tender skin. She trembled with every pass of his tongue, her hands tangled in his thick, dark hair as if she could anchor herself there.
“Fuck—you taste like heaven,” he growled, eyes hazy now, voice vibrating against her clit.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please, don’t stop?—”
He didn’t. He pushed two thick fingers into her, curling them just right, and the sound she made was wrecked. Her pussy clenched around his fingers like she didn’t want to let them go. Her hips began to roll against him, chasing her high.
He let her.
She came hard, back arching off the bed, thighs trembling around his shoulders. Her moan broke on his name—“Dorian!”—and he drank every second of it.
When she stilled, he climbed up her body, kissing her sweat-slicked skin along the way—her stomach, the underside of her breast, the sharp line of her collarbone.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, kissing the spot just below her ear. “Every time you run, I feel it like a wound. And I still want you.”
Autumn pulled his mouth to hers, tasting herself on his tongue. “Then take me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. His cock was thick and heavy, the head flushed dark with need. He gripped the base, lined himself up, and with a breathless groan,sankinto her.
She was tight. Wet. Hot as fire.
“Shit,” he bit out, head dropping against her shoulder as he pushed in deep, inch by inch. “You feel like… like coming home.”
Autumn wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her hips to meet him. “Don’t hold back.”
He didn’t.
He started to move, each thrust hitting deep, driving a rhythm that matched the thunder of his pulse. His golden-hazel eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, she saw the shift—the hint of milky brown, the shimmer of his bear flickering just beneath the surface.
“You make me lose control,” he growled, voice hoarse. “You make me feel too much.”
