Chapter Five
Chapter Five
I ’m crazy.
Well, we know that. Everyone said you were crazy to leave handsome, successful, athletic Felipe. Said you were crazy to live alone in an RV, taking photos and hoping and praying to pay the bills. They said you were crazy for spending hundreds every year to go home for Carnival when there are months that you live on scrambled eggs, rice, and soup.
I’m crazy about him. I was from the moment I laid eyes on him. I wonder if this “mates” thing works both ways.
Bryce is gently lowering me to the ground, looking at me with shining eyes as if I’m an angel and a gift all in one. “You stayed,” he repeats.
I love the feel of my body against his, and now that I have permission to hug him, I do. I plaster myself to him like he’s a fluffy pillow—only I can feel the hard muscles under the layers of thick fur. I can feel something else hard, too. “Did you say mate?”
“Like partner,” he rasps.
I wriggle against him, feeling his bulge with my wiggling lower abdomen. “Has a human ever mated with a yeti?”
“Huh? Oh, yes. There’s a couple who lives near Pine Ridge—Onyx and Kyra. They have twin boys.”
“So mates can actually mate ?” I’ve lost all subtlety as I realize he’s packing something that would only be seen in the extreme section of an adult catalog. All the pent-up horniness that I’ve carried since setting eyes on him is making me careless.
“Absolutely. Um. It might not always be completely compatible at first…”
“I like a challenge.” I let him lift me up so I can reach his mouth, making sure that our first kiss is one he won’t forget. My teeth clamp down on his lower lip before my tongue slides against his fangs. His tongue spars with mine instantly, a groan rattling from his chest into mine when I start to rock my pussy against his erection. Even though we’re divided by layers of clothes, the width of his shaft presses every spot I crave as I rub.
“I would help, of course,” Bryce pants between kisses.
“Help? How?”
He looks suddenly surprised. “Don’t human men make their lovers come before entering? How can they make sure you’re slippery enough to take their length?”
Good Lord. Could there be a better combination of sexy as hell and sweet as sugar? “I’m sure some men do. Not so much in my experience. Also, the ‘length’ of most human men isn’t enough to worry about preparing for.”
“Oh.” Bryce looks down at the tent (I think it’s more like a settlement, actually) in his pants. “I think maybe it would be a good idea if you let me show you what yetis do?”
The way he licks his lips while looking pointedly below my waist has me convinced that I will combust if he doesn’t show me in the next five minutes. “Yes, please.”
Bryce nods and stands still, lips pressed together, eyes closed for a few seconds, an expression close to pain on his face.
“What’s the matter?” He might be worrying about what I’ll think of him, but I suddenly have a slice of panic pie myself. What if human-yeti relationships are frowned on by his family, even if they’re cool in Pine Ridge? What about this body he fell for? It’s been a long time since I was obsessed with flat abs and toned thighs.
“I don’t want to rush you. You might think I only wanted one thing.” His shaggy, silky locks fly around his face as he shakes his head in denial. “I promise I don’t.”
Maybe it’s the mating thing that makes me feel so connected to him, so attracted to him, but I already feel like I know him. I know there’s more in store than just a quick tumble—but that’s what I want to start with.
“I believe you, baby,” I whisper, pulling on his waistband. “And I love how sweet and gentle you can be. But I also liked that lethal weapon I saw on the ice. I don’t mind if we start off in a rush tonight. The second time can be nice and slow,” I purr, running my hand boldly, lingeringly down the thick bulge between us. That’s the last time I want to be slow for a while.
Bryce’s entire body is covered in thick white and gray fur except for his face, his palms, and his grayish cock that sticks out straight and tall like a spear, ready to impale me. I lick my lips at the size of it, mentally stretching my jaw around that monster. Impaled is right.
He shed his clothes with obvious relief and none of the bashfulness I expected from the stammering gentle giant I met earlier. I fumble with my top, but I don’t get far before Bryce scoops me up, kissing me, strong hands soft as they peel layers off my jeans, jacket, and tee-shirt.
“You’re even more gorgeous up close,” he says, breathing out shakily. He buries his nose in my neck and inhales as his fingers unclasp my bra. “That’s not it,” he grunts.
“What’s not—oh, fuck,” I gasp as his mouth moves from my collarbone and down to my breasts, heavy, full breasts that made me an instant hit in any skimpy swimsuit.
Bryce’s mouth engulfs half of one breast easily, sucking to the rhythm of my pounding heart, lips kneading my hard nipple to the pulsing I can feel in my clit as his hand begins to stroke down my spine.
“Mmm, closer.” He says when he releases my breast—then drops to his knees.
I make a choked sound when he buries his face against my still smooth (but softer) middle and plants a longing kiss on the fabric of my soaked panties. “I’m—”
“You’ve been getting ready for me,” Bryce nods. “But I should help. May I?”
If he means what I think he means, hell yes, he may. “Completely yes.”
“I think it would be best if you laid down. You’d be more comfortable. I want to be inside of you so much—but I don’t intend to rush this part.”
I sink down onto the bed, but Bryce doesn’t join me, remaining on his knees. The second I sit, he whips my panties down my legs and plants his hands possessively on my calves. Electricity jumps through me at his touch, racing down my spine as he strokes my legs, first with two hands, then with one. My mouth waters as I see him give his cock some attention. His fist closes around it easily, pumping in long, fast strokes that push beads of shiny white pre-cum from his tip.
“You’re so big,” I say, not caring if it’s obvious. He is—as big as a prize-winning cucumber, just a little smaller than my favorite 35 mm lens.
“It’s okay if I don’t fit. We can work up to it,” Bryce reassures, slowly stroking up to the apex of my thighs. “You’re stunning. Just like I imagined.”
“You imagined?” I tease. I know hundreds of guys probably jerked off to my pictures. That’s what happens when you pose for sexy pictures.
Bryce ducks his head. “I—I did today. When I met you in person, I imagined what would happen if you were my real mate, that you would look just like this—all beautiful shades of brown and pink.”
Any shyness I had has been wiped out by want and the way he looks at me like I’m his goddess. He kisses his way from knee to thigh, and my stomach flip-flops when he holds my legs apart, pinning them down. He lets out a deep, satisfied chuckle that has my face flaming as he takes in my short black curls, matted down with slick arousal. I can’t imagine how gooey wet I must be from thinking about him for hours.
“There it is,” he croons, leaning forward. “That sweet, sensual smell. Yetis have very strong senses of smell, you know.”
I swallow. Is that good or bad right now?
“We smell things human noses miss, particularly the scent of our mate’s arousal. You smell like sweet, wet sex—and cinnamon, cardamom, and nutmeg. And look at you…” His finger circles around my outer lips, making my hips jump, “so generous to me.”
And that’s the last word he says for a while, or at least the last time I understand speech for the next ten minutes. Bryce shoves his head between my legs and goes wild.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s a yeti or because his mouth is so big, or because yeti-human mating needs to have the best hard, fast, sloppy foreplay ever, but whatever it is, I want to bottle it and sell it.
Bryce’s head slots between my thighs, and his wide mouth parts over my sex, loosing his wide, flexible tongue. One swipe completely covers my outer folds and drags juice from my core upward. A hearty suck pulls my clit into his mouth with enough force that I think I’m going to cum on the spot. “ Meu Deus !” My spine arches forward, and my hands grip his hair.
A savage growl stops me. “Not yet,” he warns from his hot hollow before lapping me again, his tongue actually making splashing sounds as he parts me and invades every nook and cranny, seeking out my juice like it’s ambrosia.
“Such a needy little pussy. A perfect river and no one to drink from it until now.” Strong thumbs pry apart my outer lips first, then my inner ones, leaving me exposed to his hungry gaze. I see the concern on his face as he looks at how tiny I am compared to his rod.
“I stretch,” I say, my clit throbbing, protesting the break from his onslaught.
“You’ll have to,” he says.
She’s divine. Sweet, rich, and complex, with spices, sex, and sweat tickling every tastebud of my tongue and making my cock twitch and leak, pre-cum sliding down to coat the thick padding of fur on my thighs.
Fia hasn’t been touched in a long time. Neither have I, but I can tell her body is desperate to be pleasured by the way she bares herself to me and lets me maul her pussy with my kisses and licks, finally splitting her open and pushing her calves over my shoulders so I can fuck her hard and fast with my rigid tongue.
Her little walls clamp down when I fill her, her sound of breathless surprise urging me on. I’m going to fuck her until she comes, rubbing her clit with my thumb as my tongue works inside of her, finding the stretchy, spongy secret spot I know must be lurking inside. My plan is to learn her fast and perfectly so that she’ll be the happiest mate in the world.
I forget to be strategic about anything when her legs arch against my shoulders and her fingers yank my hair as her soft, slippery pussy humps my mouth. I growl and burrow forward, only to meet her hips as they bounce off the bed to fuck my tongue with her dripping slit.
I love it, but I need to do more. Serve my mate better. I flip Fia over fast and without warning (oops), making her scream as I push her hips up high, her face down flat. I kneel behind her with my face buried in her from behind, able to steal glances of her clawing at the sheet and burying her face in the comforter to smother her increasingly loud moans.
“Please, Bryce… Please,” she begs.
Fia, my Fia, is begging for me.
“Soon, my beautiful gift,” I say after I swipe my tongue between her folds again.
“I want your cock. I can take it,” she argues, voice almost a whine.
“Not yet!” I say, thwacking her sensitive nub with the flat of my tongue, probably harder than I should. To my surprise, my sweet, soft little mate moans and arches back.
“Again! Hard like that,” she pleads.
I replace my tongue with my hand, hard palm against her bead, rubbing in circles as I watch her walls spasm. “Come for me,” I beg. “Come while I watch your pretty pussy practice for my big cock.”
The mixture of words and the hard circles on her clit break the last dam, and her warm juice floods my palm, so wet that I see drops fly as I rub her hard, hoping to push her to the brink of a second orgasm.
Fia flops forward, shaking and sighing.
Was I too hard? You got carried away! “Fia? I’m sorry. Was that too hard?” I whisper, curling up beside her, cupping her face in my hand.
“Just hard enough,” she reassures, flushed, sweating face pressing close to mine. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a kiss, her tongue swirling with mine. I hear her moan, and her delicious scent gets heavier. My love likes tasting herself on my tongue. My love is a little bit wild and savage—just like me.
“Do you have lube?” she whispers, snuggling to my chest.
I wince. “No. I… I never planned on needing it,” I confess. “I always believed I would never find a mate.” I nuzzle the top of her head, kissing her dark curls, “Probably because I knew I’d already lost my heart to Miss Valentine.” It’s a miracle she’s in my arms. I hope she knows I’m serious about not letting her go…
Fia hums softly under her breath and then begins to worm her way down my body, hands massaging. I can’t get over the fact that she seems as enthralled with my giant, fur-covered form as I am with her small, nearly hairless one. The silky skin of her bare thigh rubs pointedly against my erection—which is a mistake, seeing as the slightest pressure might make me explode. Her hand follows the path, slowly wrapping around me, even though there’s a fraction of space left that prevents her fingers from touching.
“So big. And so slippery. I think this might work instead of lube. Even if it doesn’t, I’m willing to take a chance.” Fia lifts her fingers high, spreading them apart and showing strings of my thick, viscous arousal spiderwebbing between them.
I roll to my hands and knees for the second time, pussy still throbbing and tingling from the double whammy of an orgasm Bryce already delivered, body tense and excited as I feel him kneeling behind me. Him being on top is something we’re going to have to work up to.
When I spread my legs wider, notching myself backwards until I can feel his cock resting between my cheeks, I’m startled at the amount of wetness that suddenly coats me. When Bryce strokes my pouting lips with his hand, I hear an audible plop of liquid into his palm. “Was that you or me?” I ask, my inhibitions on hiatus with this lover.
“You—but only because my fur is absorbing the river you cause to flow from me,” he chuckles.
I sigh and jiggle my cheeks against him, listening to his growling moan of longing with temptress satisfaction. “I was thinking about you all day. I was planning to get my biggest toy and play with myself while wishing it was you.”
“How big are these toys?” Bryce asks, leaning down to kiss a trail across my spine.
“Not as big as you, that’s for damn sure—but one of them is a big hefty. I ordered the wrong size—or maybe I didn’t. Maybe I ordered the perfect size to work up to you,” I chuckle.
As we move together, his cock pressing against my folds without going in, just rocking together to spread our soaking wetness around, my lust-drenched brain starts to think about the path that brought us here. It’s like an ultra-sped-up video clip that plays in my head, but it makes me wonder—is he really my mate? Not just a lover, but a lifelong partner like his culture makes him believe?
He plays hockey. I love sports photography.
He loves sports. He had the old magazines and calendar I was in.
Through that, he followed my career and started to support it.
I treasured the words of the stranger who would always praise me, even when the people in my “real life” dismissed my dreams.
My best friend asking me to cover this random event because of her sick kids.
Sam Grendel joining the team only recently, and Bryce being next in line.
The confrontation, the knock at my door, the wrong toy…
He finally pushes into me, and I gasp and dig my fingers into the mattress at the stretch, a painful push that wedges him tight in my opening and makes tears spring to my eyes as I consider asking him to retreat. Before I can, it’s like there is a chemical reaction between my arousal and his, relaxing my muscles and sending him sliding forward, filling me so hard and deep that my whole body shudders and settles.
Stuffed. Stretched. Spread to my limits. I let out a guttural noise of all the air rushing out of me.
The deep, “Can this be fate?” thoughts of a second ago vanish.
I don’t care if it’s fate or not, I’m keeping this cock and the man attached. “Oh, wow.” I finally can make an intelligible sound.
“Wow,” Bryce echoes in a hazy voice. “I… I didn’t think it would happen fast like that.”
I move experimentally, but I can’t move much. I run a hand between my thighs, rubbing my clit to help combat the burning sensation of being stretched to the breaking point, only to find that I’m literally bulging, belly pushed out. “I didn’t expect that, either,” I say in a strained voice. “Move slow.”
“I will. I don’t have to move at all.” Bryce puts one palm on each of my cheeks and parts them. “I could come just from looking at you spread around me. Feeling your walls ripple against me.”
I twitch, muscles trying to relax against this sudden intruder. Bryce groans, and a new flood of wetness soaks me. When he moans, the deep bass rumble of his voice shoots through me, and now we’re connected. He vibrates inside of me, and my muscles start to go soft.
“You might be able to, but I can’t. I need friction,” I say, gently rocking forward, seeing what it feels like. It doesn’t hurt this time, but the deep, Oh-My-God-I-May-Never-Walk-Again stretch is still there.
“Oh, I’m sorry, my love. My mate. My treasure. I was caught up for a moment in how good you feel.” Bryce massages my lower back with one hand and snakes the other one around my hip. With his long arms, he easily reaches my pussy and rubs it too.
I’m in the center of a massage sandwich with a delicious, thick filling.
“I would never neglect my mate,” he whispers, beginning to rub more purposefully.
Tingles of pleasure work with the “hurts so good” stretch, and I feel us start to slip and slide together. I cautiously let myself fall forward, head on a pillow, spine arching high with his huge cock parting me. My hips rock and his rush to meet me, short, shallow thrusts at first, getting longer and harder as we build up our tempo.
“You feel amazing,” he whispers.
I look back over my shoulder to see the enraptured expression on his rugged face before pleasure forces my eyes closed. “More,” I beg, sure that’s a word I shouldn’t be using.
“You won’t take more yet,” Bryce cautions.
“Harder. Faster. Not deeper. Not yet.” I know bodies can stretch, but there’s no way I can have ten or twelve inches stuffed inside me on the first try. “I like a challenge,” I say.
He gets it. “Don’t worry. I’ve never missed a practice, never missed a game,” he chuckles. “We’ll go as far as you want. Just being with you is all I need.”
“So sweet,” I purr, marveling that this massive monster can be pounding me steadily while still romancing me.
He’s kind of perfect.
Perfect for me.
“Harder,” I remind him, hips working back insistently.
With a grunt that sends those delicious vibrations through me, he complies.
Slap, brush, slap, brush. The room is silent except for my thighs on his fur and the obscenely wet, splashing sounds that turn to a steady squelch as he fucks me harder. In moments, we’re both lost. His hands fasten to my waist, and his grunts are a deep, growling staccato, little bursts of spine-tingling noise on every thrust.
I’m not even aware of the sounds I’m making at first until I realize that the constant moan that rides up and down the octave like a singer warming up is me, riding cycles of pleasure. The cycles get shorter and harder, more pointed. Every space inside of me is filled. Every spot I’ve ever wanted a lover to find is touched and rubbed by default by the huge, heavy cock inside of me.
“Soon?” Bryce asks in a strangled voice.
I think he’d keep pounding me until he passed out. Or until I did. The pressure from inside radiates down to my clit. His hand connects with mine over the swollen bulge of my lower abdomen, circling on my clit as he slams in deep, making my eyes fly open as I let out a screech.
The orgasm that rocks me is like nothing I’ve felt before. It doesn’t stay in my erogenous zones, but it fuses them all together until my entire body feels like it’s pulsing, throbbing. It’s scary for a second, feeling everything burst, everything slip from my control as I sob in pleasure and my muscles desert me, leaving me limp under Bryce.
But he has me in his strong arms, holding me tight as his own orgasm follows mine, a pumping torrent of hot cum that somehow adds one more wave of mini-climaxes to the tsunami that just hit me. “Fia!” he bellows, hips suddenly slamming into mine out of rhythm, jerking and dancing against my legs until I can feel sticky streams overflowing my spent pussy and coating my thighs.
I’m such a mess. Such a happy, happy mess. “Bryce.” I reach back to caress his face when we crash down, his body huddled around mine, spooning me as we’re still joined.
“I love you,” he pants, spent. He clutches me close, post-orgasmic shudders rocking his giant frame.
He loves me?
I wait for the panic alarms. The red flags to wave inside my mind.
I waited for years to hear Felipe say he loved me—outside of one of his diatribes where “Look, I love you, so listen to me” was used as blackmail and control.
“Oh, God.” Bryce’s sleepy, relaxed voice turns fearful. “Oh, God, I said it out loud. Fia, I didn’t—”
“Shhh. It’s okay, my love,” I say soothingly. It’s not quite an “I love you,” but it feels right for right now. “Shh, my mate. That was wonderful.”
***
She sleeps. I doze. We’re a mess, and I think I’m just going to throw these sheets out and reimburse the hotel for the damages. Maybe I’ll throw the mattress out, too, I think as I slowly withdraw from my sleeping beauty, blushing in awe as at least a cup of our combined essence flows from her in a creamy, glistening tide.
“Bryce?” She reaches for me in her sleep, my name on her lips.
I know she’s mine. I know it.
But I can’t force her to believe it. Truth-or-Dare games don’t work in the light of day, which is just a few hours away.
“I’m right here, Fia. You can sleep.”
“Don’t wanna sleep,” she pouts, shivering. “Get back here.”
I laugh softly and cuddle back up to her, my cock sliding between her thighs instead of filling her. “I will never leave you—except to go to work. Or while you’re at work.”
Her sleepy nod and noise of agreement lull me into relaxing—for a second.
“I’m not going to stop traveling because I found someone,” she says, a yawn breaking her sentence in half.
Found someone? My heart leaps. That sounds promising.
“I wouldn’t ask you to! I’m your biggest fan. I love your work. What kind of idiot would I be to ask you to stop doing what you love, especially when I love it, too?”
“You’re smart.”
I have to laugh at the factual way she declares it. “So are you. You wouldn’t ask me to stop playing hockey, would you?” I hold my breath. I know she won’t—but I also know I would give it up this second if she said it meant she’d stay with me.
“No! I… I really like when you play and I watch.” Her voice is more alert—and more sensual.
My cock starts to harden. I guess he’s making up for years of voluntary celibacy.
“You like to watch me play?”
“So hot. The way you… It’s like you hunt the other players. Ruthless. Skillful. Graceful.” She turns to me with a sudden roll, dark eyes meeting mine as she licks her lips. “Would you ever make love right after you played?”
“I wouldn’t even take off my helmet if you like it on,” I tease—only I’m not really teasing.
Fia stares at me.
“What?”
“I’m trying to figure out the right word for you.”
“Yeti?” I suggest, brow wrinkling in confusion—and cock starting to throb as she mashes herself to my chest, apparently not caring about my soaked, matted fur from the waist down.
“You’re not a cinnamon roll. Or a golden retriever.”
Did I fuck her brains out? “Did you hit the headboard, love?” I ask, cupping her face with a frown.
“Some women call really amazing boyfriends who are so giving and loving cinnamon rolls and golden retrievers. But you’re all of those things and more. And you’re not golden.” She beams at me, kissing my startled mouth. “I don’t quite know what to call you, but I’m looking forward to finding out.”
I kiss her back, one palm coming up to massage her breast, loving the way she instantly leans into my touch with a happy moan. “Just call me yours. Your mate,” I encourage, knowing I sound desperate and selfish. I make a last-ditch effort to be strong. “If you want. I know you’re so beautiful, and you’re a world traveler, and I’m a hometown hero monster…” I shrug helplessly. “In hockey terms, maybe it seems like we’re a missed shot, but—”
Fia cuts me off, finger to my lips and one leg sliding pointedly over mine to start fusing our bodies once again. “Shh. We’re a perfect shot—in hockey or photography.” She smiles, nodding seriously. “Sometimes the unexpected angle sinks it deep in the back of the net.” Her hips part, and my semi-erect cock easily slides into the soaking slickness of her pussy. “Sometimes the picture that you never expected to take is the one that wins the prize or becomes your favorite.”
“You’ve always been my favorite,” I whisper, head bowing so my forehead can rest against hers.
She smiles up at me, dimple deepening with the width of her grin. “You’re the prize I’ve been wanting.”
I sink into her.
She moans and flexes, sending ripples of pleasure through both of us. “Perfect,” she sighs.
“Agreed.”