14. Lily
LILY
M y scream of delight fills the barn as The Grizzly flings me one more time.
I land hard, but the burn—the shock of it, of knowing I’m experiencing something only a handful of people in this world would?—
It’s so unimaginably good.
“Are you okay?” His hoarse voice cracks, anxious, thick with worry.
He’s towering over me, shoulders heaving, eyes scanning my body like he expects to see me broken.
I blink as the air rushes back into my lungs and laugh breathlessly.
The feeling of being hurled through the air is… indescribable.
Pure adrenaline, pure abandon, pure him .
“Again,” I gasp, my chest rising fast.
Now it’s his turn to blink. His face hardens, but I see the worry flare again in his dark eyes. “Petal?—”
“No.” I roll to my knees, hair sticking to my damp face, grinning up at him. Then I cock my hand back and slap him. Hard. “Again.”
Something shifts in his chest—relief, disbelief, hunger. All tangled together.
Then he growls. Loud. The sound rattles through the pulsating music, shooting straight through me to the rafters.
I take advantage of his hesitation, darting forward, surprising him with a sweep of my leg. He doesn’t fall, but he stumbles, eyes narrowing as if I just insulted his bloodline.
“You little fucking adorable menace,” he snarls.
I giggle—until he lunges.
I fly at him again.
He catches me, and we crash to the mat, his weight caging me, every inch of him solid and unyielding.
I writhe beneath him—not because I want to get away, but because the friction makes me dizzy.
My cheap cotton panties ride up, so I deliberately hike them higher, framing my pussy lips in an obscene way.
He sees it, and the sound he makes—feral, guttural—makes me wetter instantly.
“Petal.” His voice rumbles like thunder. “Don’t play games you can’t win.”
“Then prove I can’t,” I taunt, arching my hips into him as I slowly lick my lips.
He surges to his feet, hauls me up, and slams me gently but firmly against the ropes, biceps flexing like tree trunks. He poses for me—spreads his chest, rolls his shoulders, lets me see every inch of the beast I’ve caught.
My pulse trips, and my thighs squeeze hard .
God, he’s beautiful when he roars.
“Want me like this?” he demands, looming over me. “The Grizzly? The man they all wanted to tame?”
I hook my fingers into the waistband of my panties, tug them tighter so they cut across my swollen clit, spreading my thighs so he can’t miss how sopping wet I am. For him. “I want all of you. My Bear.”
His jaw snaps tight, like my words hit something he can’t control.
Then I do something reckless. Something stupid.
I dart toward the duffel bag I’d noticed in the corner earlier, yank out a small bottle I’d tucked in after snooping.
Baby oil.
He spins around to catch me, but he freezes now, his eyes widening as I pop the cap and pour it over my chest and stomach, slicking his vest until it clings to me like wet paint. The cotton goes transparent, nipples dark and proud beneath it.
His mouth gapes. A sound escapes him—half roar, half groan. “J-Jesus.”
I toss the bottle away, drape my arms over the ropes, head thrown back and hips thrust out. “Come and get me, Bear,” I croon.
He charges. I dart away and only succeed in reaching the next corner.
Then he’s on me.
“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.” Then he’s ripping the vest in two with his bare hands. The oil makes my skin slippery under his palms, and he glides them everywhere—breasts, ribs, hips—like he can’t decide where to worship first.
I laugh, writhing beneath his touch, but the laugh turns into a gasp when his mouth clamps down on my nipple through the thin fabric, sucking until the oil runs onto his tongue.
“You’re mine,” he rasps, dragging his teeth across me. “No one else gets this. No one else gets you slick, shiny, pussy tight and begging in my ring. Say it, petal,” he barks, wild and unfettered.
An animal. My animal.
“Yours,” I whisper, dizzy, tugging at his trunks. “Now show me mine.”
He strips them off, cock springing free—thick and hard, the sight alone making my walls flutter and quake in anticipation.
He hauls me into the center of the ring, pushes me to the mat. We grapple, laugh, claw, kiss. I surprise him again by rolling on top and locking my thighs around his waist.
“You’re too cocky,” he grits out, flipping us so fast my head spins.
“And you’re too big,” I gasp back, nails raking down his back.
His hips grind against mine, cock sliding along my slick folds, oil and sweat making us a blur of heat and motion. He doesn’t thrust in just yet.
He toys, teases, grinding until I’m clawing at him, begging.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say what this is, petal.”
“A beautiful fantasy,” I whimper. “One I didn’t even know I had.”
His eyes burn. “And you can have as many of them as you want. Just say the word and I’ll give it to you. Make it real. Every time. All over again. Until you can’t think of anything else.”
Emotion slams into me alongside the lust. My heart swells so hard it hurts.
I kiss him, filthy and desperate, then break off to pant, “Fuck me. Please, Bear. Split me open with that monster cock!”
He grips my hips, finally slamming inside with a guttural roar.
The stretch burns, but it’s perfect. Oil slicks our skin, and sweat drips into my mouth when I cry out, and his thrusts shake the canvas beneath us.
“Take it,” he snarls. “Take all of me, my fierce little warrior.”
“Yes!” I arch, scream, rake my nails down his back as he pounds into me, the slap of skin on skin, balls on ass, echoing in the barn.
“Louder,” he demands. “Let the walls know who makes this pretty, tight cunt gush.”
I sob his name, cry out with each feral thrust, until the pressure snaps and I break apart beneath him, shaking, screaming, my orgasm crashing through me.
He follows instantly, a roar tearing from his chest as he spills inside me, shuddering, crushing me to the mat like he never wants to let go.
We lie there panting, tangled, glistening in oil and sweat. His lips find my temple, soft and reverent even as his chest still heaves.
“My petal,” he murmurs. “You fucking own me.”
And heaven help me, I believe it.
Lily
The bathwater laps against my shoulders, warm and soothing with the faint scent of pine salts he must’ve tossed in.
My body hums everywhere, scratched, stretched, and sated.
And yet, when his massive frame slides in behind me, the ache fades into something softer.
Bear sinks down slow, his thighs bracketing mine. His chest presses to my back and his arms cage me. I sag back into him as his hands spread wide over my stomach, like he’s claiming every inch all over again.
“You’re sore,” he murmurs, voice husky in my ear.
I laugh weakly. “You wrestled me half-naked and fucked my oiled-up body silly all over your ring, Bear. Sore doesn’t begin to cover it.”
A half-regretful growl vibrates against my spine as he reaches for the cloth draped over the edge, wets it, and starts dragging it slow over my shoulders, down my arms. Careful and reverent, like he’s washing away the marks he left.
But when I glance down, I can still see faint bruises popping up on my body where his fingers dug in a little harder. My nipples are tender from his teeth. And between my thighs—God. Every shift in the water reminds me he was inside me, filling me, wrecking me.
His hands pause, thumbs smoothing over the faint rings on my waist.
“Shit, I should’ve taken better?—”
“No.” I catch his wrists to pull his arms tighter around me. “Don’t you dare take it back.”
His breath hitches, and for a moment, there’s silence. Just the water moving and the steady pound of his heart against my back.
Then he presses his mouth to my temple. “You’re dangerous, petal. You know that?”
I tilt my head back against him and brush his jaw with my smiling lips. “Why? Because I made The Grizzly roar and very nearly knocked you off your feet?” I tease.
He groans, low and guttural, and the cloth slips forgotten into the water. His hands slide up to cup my breasts, squeezing gently, soap-slick fingers teasing at swollen peaks.
I whimper, arching, half bewildered by the heat flickering again despite how wrung out I am.
“No. You’re dangerous,” he repeats, voice rough, “because I’d do it again. All of it. Any time you asked. Even if it kills me.”
My throat closes, thick and tight.
From the sheer weight of him. From the unsullied, priceless beauty of what he’s giving me in those words.
When I can swallow again, I twist in his arms, straddle his thighs beneath the water, the hot slick of his cock thickening against my belly.
My palms press to his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. “I don’t know what I want to ask for. Not yet. Or even if I deserve it. But I do know one thing.”
“What?” he croaks, his dark brown eyes digging deep into mine.
“No talk about dying, Bear. We only talk about living. To the fullest. However we both choose.”
His eyes flare dark, wild… maybe a little terrified. All of it echoed and mirrored inside me.
But then his hands lock onto my hips, anchoring me.
“Trying, petal,” he rasps. “God help me, I’m trying.”
And when his mouth crashes to mine, water sloshing over the sides of the tub, I believe him.