Page 62 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
“Did it hurt you?” he demands.
I shake my head and look past him, but there’s nothing out there. Jerry sniffs the air, apparently eager to confirm the same.
“There was a wolf. It was trying to…” I explain, but Ben’s already moving.
Two strides, and he’s on me. His hands cup my face, tilting my head back. I have just enough time to see the raw hunger in his eyes, dark as midnight, before his mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss is nothing like our first kiss. That was sensual. This is pure desperation. A claiming. His tongue sweeps into my mouth without hesitation, relief and need all mixed together.
“I’m okay,” I assure him, but he’s not listening. One hand slides into my hair, fingers tangling in the strands, while the other grips my waist, pulling me flush against him until I can feel every hard line of his body.
He walks me backward until my spine hits the wall, never breaking the kiss. I should feel trapped, his enormous body surrounding me, but instead, I feel anchored, safe with all that strength and power focused entirely on me.
My hands fist in his torn shirt, needing something to hold onto as my knees go weak.
He kisses me like he’s drowning, and I’m air, like he’ll die if he stops. His teeth graze my bottom lip, and I make a sound I’ve never made before, a needy whimper, that seems to drive him wilder.
“Mine.”
He growls against my lips, and I feel the word vibrate through me at every point where our bodies touch. Something deep inside me responds to that claim, unfurling, ready for him. It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear it.
I should protest, tell him I am not, in any way, his, but there’s no point because I want to be.
So, I forget all the doubts and concerns that linger in the back of my mind and sink into him, letting him take control, letting myself enjoy this adrenaline-fuelled moment of madness.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard. His forehead’s pressed against mine, and his hands are shaking where they frame my face. His thumbs stroke my cheekbones with surprising gentleness after that consuming kiss.
“It was trying to get in. Did you see it?” I whisper. “It was pawing at the door handle. Was it after Jerry? Thank God it was locked.”
His jaw clenches hard, the muscle jumping behind his beard. Instead of answering my volley of questions, he pulls me against his chest, arms wrapping around me, as if he’s trying to shield me from the world.
My body reacts, breathing evening out, pulse returning to a more normal rate.
“You’re safe. That’s all that matters,” he murmurs into my hair. “It’s gone.”
But something about the way he’s holding me, and how he reaches back to slide the deadbolt back into place, tells me that may not be entirely true.
23
BEN
She’s here in my arms, whole and unharmed. I repeat that to myself like a mantra, but my bear isn’t pacified by it. He’s raging inside me, demanding blood. This is just a temporary reprieve. It will be back.
“Ben?” Zara’s voice is soft against my chest. “You’re shaking.”
I force myself to loosen my grip, though every instinct screams to hold her tighter. His scent is everywhere around us, marking where he circled the cabin, where he touched my door, where he tried to get to her.
“Let me look at you.” I pull back and run my hands over her arms, examining her for injuries I know aren’t there, but still needing to check for myself.
“I’m fine, Ben. Really, I’m fine.” She catches my hands and stills them with her smaller ones. “Just scared. That’s all. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry.” My apology comes out laced with guilt. “For leaving you alone. When I realised it had circled back...”
I shake my head and press my lips together to stop myself from saying too much. She needs me to be the calm one. I need to pull myself together.
“It’s okay.” She squeezes my hand gently. “We’re both okay. Jerry protected me.”
I double-check the lock, testing the handle twice. The deep scratches in the wood outside make my jaw clench hard enough to hurt my teeth.
