Page 72 of Bear Naked Truth
Autumn lay curled in Dorian’s arms, still fully clothed, her cheek pressed to the solid warmth of his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, a deep, grounding rhythm like it had never once faltered—even when hers had. Outside, Celestial Pines exhaled. The storm was over. The dead had been dealt with. And Hollis… was gone.
Not forgotten or erased. But banished.
And she wasn’t broken. Not anymore.
Her limbs felt heavy in that post-magic way, like her soul was still catching up to her skin. But the ache was soft. Welcoming. The ache of beingalive.Dorian’s thumb traced lazy circles at the base of her spine, tethering her to the here and now.
She tilted her head, found him already watching her—not with fear, not with pity. But with that look. The one he saved only for her.
Like she washome.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice still rough, like it had been scraped raw by everything they’d just lived through.
She nodded. “Tired. But okay.”
“Still with me?”
Her smile curved slowly. “Yeah. Still with you.”
The words weren’t just an answer. They were a promise.
He leaned in, kissed her forehead. Then her temple. His lips dragged down the side of her jaw, slow and aching. Each press of his mouth made her breath catch, but she didn’t pull away.
She didn’tneedto.
The danger was gone. The voices were quiet. Her body? Hers again.
And itwanted.
Her thighs tightened around his hips as she shifted, slowly straddling him. She rolled her hips just once, experimentally—and the sound he made vibrated through her, low and full of restraint.
His hands slid under the hem of her shirt—hisshirt—and skimmed up her back, reverent and warm. He didn’t rush. There was no fumbling, no frenzy. Just him, unwrapping her as if she were something sacred.
“Take it off,” she whispered.
He obeyed, lifting the shirt over her head, baring her skin to the low lamplight and the heat in his golden-hazel eyes. They darkened, turning that milky shade that meant the bear was close, watching.Wanting.
She unclasped her bra and let it fall. His hands slid up to cup her breasts, calloused thumbs brushing over her nipples until they peaked under his touch.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, voice hoarse.
Her hands found the hem of his shirt and tugged. He sat up so she could strip it off, and when their bare chests met, skin to skin, she let out a shaky breath.
“I don’t want to forget this,” she said.
“You won’t,” he promised, mouth brushing hers. “Neither will I.”
Their kiss deepened—tongues sliding, teeth nipping, mouths greedy. His cock was hard beneath her, trapped between their bodies, and she ground against it slowly, moaning when the friction sent pleasure sparking up her spine.
The world narrowed to the rhythm of their breath. The soft creak of the bed beneath them. The low, golden light catching in the sheen of sweat starting to bloom across his chest.
Dorian’s hands moved with purpose, reverence threading every motion. His palms skimmed her waist, rough with calluses but careful—like she was something breakable even though she never had been. Not until him.
“You sure?” he murmured against her throat, his voice pitched low, almost guttural. His hazel eyes were nearly gone now, clouded and molten, a milky brown ring circling the center—his bear so close to the surface it felt like he wasn’t just making love to her… they both were.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Autumn whispered, nails curling gently into his back.
He exhaled, a hot breath that ghosted down her collarbone before his lips followed. He kissed every inch of skin like it mattered—like it was the first and last time he’d get to taste her. She arched as he traced the soft underside of her breast with his tongue, her nipple peaking again beneath the press of his mouth. His hand cupped the other, thumb brushing over it slowly, building her pleasure in slow, deliberate strokes.
