Page 72 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
I press my lips to hers; she doesn’t flinch at tasting herself on me, so I pour every dream and hope that I can’t yet voice into this kiss, praying that somehow, she can feel my intentions in how I slide my mouth over hers.
Our tongues meet, and I can’t stop myself from making it deeper.
Fingers still stroking in and out of her in hard thrusts, I kiss her hard, possessively, only pulling away when I feel completely overwhelmed by the depth of my need to claim her as mine.
Every instinct screams at me to cover her, to drive into her, and to make it so every shifter for miles knows she’s mine. It may be too soon for that, but I can still make damn sure this first time with me is the last first she ever wants to have. So, I focus on her pleasure instead, on making this perfect for her.
“Ben,” she moans as I pull away. Her expression is full of tender emotions, as if she can feel just how much this means to me. Her arms are wrapped around my back, clinging to me as we gaze into each other’s eyes. It’s too much and yet not enough.
“I know, baby.” With one last gentle kiss to her swollen lips, I slide back down her body, ignoring her attempts to hold me in place. She needs to come on my fingers first, or she’ll never be relaxed enough to take me.
Curling my fingers to hit the spot inside has her arching further up and writhing beneath me, her blonde hair fanned out on my sheets, as she cries out. Mouth hanging open, she whimpers and mewls as I torture her, teasing her with promises of climax, until I’m pretty sure she’s past the point of no return.
Closing my hot mouth over her again, making sure my fingers maintain their rhythm, I lick her in time, hard and firm, just as she likes it. The way she chants my name in response has my bear growling in delight, and a deep, loud rumble shakes the walls of the cabin as he shows whoever’s outside just who this woman belongs to.
“Ben!” she cries out, her fingers scratching my neck, as she holds my face to her.
Zara crashes over the edge, her core clamping down around my fingers like a vice, as wave after wave of her orgasm overtakes her. As she comes, I continue to stroke her through it, enjoying each mini aftershock and the ecstasy written across her pretty features.
She looks dazed and slightly confused, but happy and satisfied, as she melts into the mattress, every muscle completely relaxed and her body, limp.
I climb onto the bed and pull her into my arms, then stroke her hair as she curls into my chest. One slim leg slides between mine as she clings to me and catches her breath while I hold her close, breathing in her delicious scent.
“You okay?” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as her eyes slide closed.
“Hmmm.” The contented sound makes my chest tight.
Reaching down, I grab the comforter and pull it up over our bodies, worried she’ll get chilly now. She’s so small and fragile compared to me.
“Are you sore? Was that too much?” I ask, suddenly afraid I was too rough.
Zara’s mouth curls into a smile against my chest as she presses a kiss to my pec, right over my heart, and her warm palm slides around my waist to stroke up and down my back.
“That was perfect.” Her words soothe the concern inside me, and I tighten my grip on her, wanting more, but at the same time, knowing that I’m stupidly lucky to even be touching her.
My bear wants to be even more connected to her, but we need to accept that this, the physical side of things, is going to have to be enough.
For now.
“You’re perfect,” she murmurs, already half asleep.
“Glad you think so.” I pull the blanket higher, cocooning us. “Sleep, baby. Nothing’s going to touch you while I’m here.”
He’ll have to go through me to get to her, and that will never happen.
28
BEN
“You’re quiet,” she whispers.
Zara has been awake for a few minutes. Her head is still on my chest, and her calm breaths make this entire situation worse. She has blind faith in me, believing I know what I’m doing here.
Even what we’ve done is enough to drive her stalker crazy. I’ve marked her with my scent, made her cry out my name. He’ll know. And now, he has even more reason to see me as an enemy.
Now, he won’t just want her. He’ll want me dead for touching what he thinks is his.
Zara’s short nails reach back to trail up my thigh toward my hip, and before my libido roars to life again from a simple touch, I catch her hand and pull it to my lips for a soft kiss.
