Chapter 17 #2
“Don’t let it go to your head.” She tried for sarcasm, but it came out as a gasp.
He pulled her panties aside and pushed two fingers in, hooking them in a way that made her see little bursts of light. She ground down, squeezing around his fingers, and wishing like hell it was his thick cock instead.
“Get inside me,” she panted. “Now.”
He withdrew his hand, slow and slick, and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact.
She nearly came just from that. “Bear… Oh my God… please.
He laughed, but the sound was broken and raw, not really laughter at all. He gripped her ass in both hands and lifted her, lined himself up, and filled her with one hard, blind thrust.
The breath punched out of her.
He was so goddamn big. She’d always thought she liked men her size or smaller—easier to throw off, less likely to smother or trap her. But now, she reveled in his size. He pinned her so thoroughly that she could only cling for the ride. She’d definitely leave claw marks on his back.
Good. She wanted him to carry that proof.
His cock was thick, and she felt every inch of it stretch her wide, fill her, scrape places she’d never let anyone reach. He didn’t give her a moment to adjust, just slammed in again and again, bottoming out so deep it bordered on too much.
She wanted too much.
She wanted everything this man would give her.
She nipped his neck, just below the jaw.
“Jesus fucking Christ. You’re like a vise.
” He pulled her up slowly until just his tip remained inside her, then slammed her down again.
He fucked her like he wanted to break something.
Like he’d been holding back for years, and now there was nothing between him and the want.
Every thrust set her spine against the rough wood, and she felt bark dig into the backs of her arms, the bite of splinters through her shirt.
She loved it. She wanted more. She wanted to leave a Greta-shaped dent in the side of his shed, wanted to leave a streak of herself on every surface he ever touched.
He was frantic now, the rhythm uneven, hips snapping up so hard she couldn’t breathe.
He rocked her up and down the wall like she weighed nothing, and she clung to his biceps for dear life, fingers digging so hard she’d leave bruises for sure.
God, she wanted to mark this man. She wanted him to see her when he looked in the mirror tomorrow, see the bite on his neck, the raw scratches down his back, and think of her.
He buried his face in the side of her throat, mouth open and desperate, gasping for air like he was drowning in her. His beard rasped her skin raw.
She’d always wondered what Bear looked like out of control.
Now she knew.
He was beautiful.
His muscles bunched and released under his tattoos, and the tendons in his neck flexed with every trust. There was sweat on his forehead, dampening his dark hair, and his pupils swallowed up the brown in his eyes, leaving only black and the ring of gold in the sunlight.
She fixated on those dark eyes. On how his hands dwarfed her waist and his cock took up so much room inside her that it felt like he was excavating her. Digging down to the roots, to the splintered and feral core she never dared show anyone.
She didn’t hide it now. She met every motion, slammed herself down to meet him, took him to the hilt, and flexed around the thick shaft until he shuddered and made a noise she’d never heard from him before—a desperate, choked sound.
He let go of her ass long enough to wedge his thumb between their bodies and press right above where he was splitting her open.
She was right on the edge. Every hot, frictionless pump of his cock made her grit her teeth and swear. Every flick of his thumb on her clit sent her spiraling higher.
She was going to burst into flames and crash back to earth at any minute. “Fuck. Fuck, Bear. Do it, don’t stop, don’t—”
He wrapped his arms around her, crushed her in, and moved his mouth to her ear: “Give it to me, Greta.”
That did it. She clamped down on him and came so hard she had to bite his shoulder to keep from howling it to the whole goddamn street.
He fucked her through it, then gave one last brutal thrust, every muscle in his body turned to steel, and growled against her throat as he pulsed inside her.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Bear’s chest pressed her to the boards, pinning her there, and her legs trembled around him as the aftershocks rippled through her.
Finally, he eased himself out, leaving a fading burn in her core, and moved back just enough to lift her by the waist and set her on her feet again.
She caught herself on the wall, jeans bunched around her knees, underwear snapped and hopelessly askew.
He was already hard again, and she reached for his cock with the sudden, urgent need to taste him, but he caught her wrist.
“No.” His voice was destroyed. “Not in the yard.”
She laughed and lanced toward Joy Roberts’ house. “She can’t see us back here.”
He buttoned himself up, hands unsteady, and glared at her like he could pin her in place with his stare alone. “I want you in a bed so I can take my time.”
She stood on her toes to lightly kiss his lips and wound her arms around his neck. “Then take me inside, Sasquatch.”