Page 120 of Have a Bear-y Little Christmas
“You were amazing today,” Jeannie said, opening her arms to me. Ever since she’d sat in my lap at the community center, the tension had built between us, and I yearned to have her.
Naturally, we’d had to wait until our kids were well and truly asleep, and despite the fact that all of them were fighting to keep their eyes open on the drive home, they’d insisted on a bedtime story.
As horny as Jeannie and I were for each other, there were some things we would never pass up on. Because while I was certain that she and I would crave and indulge each other until our bodies were too decrepit to do so, our kids would only want to hang out with us for so long, so we were making the best of the time while we had it.
We took turns. She read the first half of the bedtime story while I showered, then I did the second half while she did the same. Was it the sexiest buildup in the world? Absolutely not. But it was ours. We were a family after all, and family was all about compromise—and learning how to be really good at quiet quickies.
We were still working on that part of the equation.
But nothing about tonight was going to be quick. After thinking about all the things I wanted to do to her while she splashed around in the water park, glistening in that blue, polka-dot bikini of hers, I was ready to spoil myself.
I certainly had some ideas.
Apparently, Jeannie did too, because she jumped up, those thick, powerful legs of hers clamping around my waist. Fuck, I loved that she was never shy, never tentative. She wanted what she wanted, and she had no problem communicating that to me.
God, I loved her.
I caught her, grabbing that ass of hers, and my inner bear rumbled his approval. He’d been coming up to the surface a lot more since our picnic. I’d only shifted once since then, but it was a healthier balance between both sides of me.
He still wanted me to breed Jeannie and fill our den with cubs despite that not being physically possible, so I let him think what he wanted to and went about making love to my girlfriend without worrying about procreation.
“I want you,” I rumbled, taking a few steps and kneeling on the bed. I could have thrown her onto the mattress, because I knew Jeannie liked being manhandled in that way, but there would be time for wild romps. Right now, I wanted slow and sweet.
“I want you too,” she breathed, and even just her breathless voice was enough to have me rock hard. She truly spoke to each and every part of me. Physical. Mental. Spiritual.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I slowly lowered her onto her back, settling between her legs and resting my weight on my elbows. Jeannie was strong enough to support me resting on top of her, but I wanted to build the anticipation between us, to really get the fire going before I fully settled against that delicious body of hers.
We made out—I refused to call it any of the nicknames our children had used—kissing, nipping, licking, teasing. It was slow and lazy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I slid one hand down her body into her pajama bottoms, fingers moving lightly against her. She was wet for me, and I could tell it wasn’t just from the aforementioned shower. The smell of her arousal overpowered the logical part of my brain.
Oh well. Not that great of a loss anyways.
I taunted her at first, never quite touching her where she really wanted me. It was a careful line, going between building up tension and being outright annoying or frustrating, so I locked in on every single signal she was giving me.
And there were many. They all merged together, each an important instrument in the symphony that was Jeannie. The percussion of her heart, thump-thumping in an ever-accelerating rhythm. The bass of her blood pumping through her veins, increasing in tempo. The melody of her moans, a chorus of woodwinds to cheer me on. And the counter-harmony of her deep breathing and the little curses she dropped every now and then.
It was perfect. Perfect and beautiful and belonging entirely to us.
“There you go, sweetheart,” I murmured, kissing down the side of her neck as my fingers finally found their home inside of her, stroking upwards toward the spot that never failed to make her go wild. “Tell me how good you feel. Tell me how good you feel as you come all over my hand.”
Her eyes were locked on me, pupils blown wide as saucers, her petal-pink lips parted in little gasps as her cheeks reddened. After all this time, I could still make her flush brighter than a stop sign.
“That’s it. You’re doing perfect. So good for me. You’re always so good for me.”
Better than I deserved, but that was something to ruminate over another time. I didn’t mind spending an entire lifetime striving to be good enough for her. In fact, I could imagine no nobler mission.
“Wanna be good for you,” Jeannie breathed, voice so soft, so honeyed. It drizzled over my soul and made the air between us headier. There was no rush, no hurry. Just a slow build of pleasure until it exploded in the most wonderful way.
“You don’t even have to try,” I said, then kissed my way down her body, taking one of her nipples into my mouth. Jeannie arched into me, and I drank up her reaction.
As my fingers quickened and my thumb began to circle her clit, that slowness, that laziness, began to ebb with Jeannie coaxing me onward. More. More.More!Until she was clapping her own hand over her mouth and arching off the bed so far I was worried she might pull something. I knew better than to stop what I was doing until she was done riding out that wave of pleasure, however, and kept moving my fingers until she collapsed onto her mattress.
So beautiful. I could see her do that a thousand times, and it would never be boring. Especially not when she looked at me, all hazy-eyed and fucked out, only to get a devilish expression on her face as she reached for me.
“Your turn.”
