Chapter Twenty-One-Donny
“Wow,” he whispered, as I lifted my head.
I agreed. Yes. That was so wow.
My stomach clenched—tight, nervous, electric.
Anticipation wasn’t just part of the experience, it was half the magic. And right then, every fiber of my body was screaming that I’d waited long enough.
“Look, Bear,” I said, voice low, trembling with something that felt dangerously close to longing. “I’m not sure about anything. But if I don’t keep kissing you right now, I’m going to regret it. Whatever else happens, happens. We’re adults, right?”
“We are that,” Ryan murmured, voice like velvet dipped in sin.
That was good enough for me.
Before I could take another breath, his enormous hands settled on my hips and tugged me forward.
Firm, possessive, but not pushy.
He touched me like he’d been born to hold me.
It should’ve sent me running.
It didn’t.
My eyes were glazed with want and my brain—usually so sharp, so logical—was a melting mess of static and heat.
When had this happened?
When had I started aching for him, not just in my body but somewhere deeper?
Maybe it didn’t matter.
His mouth met mine, and the whole world went still.
Just still.
The kind of kiss that turns off time.
The kind of kiss that burns a blueprint into your soul.
Clean rain and cinnamon sugar and something uniquely Ryan—something warm, male, safe and wild all at once—wrapped around me like a blanket I didn’t know I’d needed.
I moaned as he tilted my head, deepening the kiss, his hand threading into my braid with this quiet sort of reverence that shattered me more than if he’d just grabbed me and claimed me outright.
It was gentle and tender and so heartbreakingly intimate that my chest cracked open.
Oh, Goddess. Could my Bear kiss.
I felt the vibrations in his chest as he growled his pleasure, and it did something to me.
It called something inside me to life.
Something raw and hungry and his.
And still—still—his hands didn’t stray.
They didn’t slide lower.
Didn’t grab or grope or grovel.
They held me steady, respectful, strong.
Which somehow made it worse.
Because I wanted more. Needed more. Needed him.
Was something wrong with me? Or was there something so right about this it scared me?
Because I knew what this was. I knew what that voice inside was whispering.
Fated.
I pulled back to catch my breath, to clear my head, to deny the truth I already knew.
But Ryan just sat there, gazing at me with those warm, chestnut eyes ringed in gold, like I was something precious.
Something chosen.
Guilt threatened to overwhelm me, and a flash of regret for all the time I’d wasted trying not to feel this. To block it out. To pretend that what was happening here wasn’t real.
“None of that now, Honey,” he whispered, moving his mouth, sliding his tongue against mine in a duel as old as time.
Geezus. He was so good at this.
The way his magic pulled at mine? The way my body answered his touch before I’d even told it to move?
These were things I couldn’t fake.
His hair curled around my fingers as I ran my hands through his thick locks, and my breath hitched.
I’d left it longer on top. On purpose.
Maybe because I knew I’d want to do exactly this.
I sucked his lip into my mouth, teasing with my teeth.
His answering growl rumbled right through me. I felt it in my bones.
This was crazy. We were practically strangers, but here I was ready to climb him like a mountain—and for some insane reason, I was so there for that.
“We’re not strangers, Honey,” Ryan rumbled into my mouth. “We’re mates.”
His voice—low, certain—echoed in my head like a spell.
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to scream that I wasn’t ready for this.
That I didn’t believe in fairytales.
That I didn’t believe in fate.
But those were lies.
Because my magic believed.
And my body sure as fork did.
And that terrifying, treacherous place inside my chest—the one I’d boarded up and buried years ago—was listening now.
Even as I denied it with my words, every cell in my body recognized him.
“No,” I whispered. “Fuck buddies, maybe. But not mates.”
“You’re wrong. And I’m gonna prove it to you.”
His growl was pure heat, vibrating through every inch of me as he pulled me closer, grinding my body against his thick, hot need.
I gasped, shocked at how ready—how desperate—I was.
His restraint should have reassured me.
It didn’t.
It drove me wild.
Because I could feel how much he wanted me. I could feel how close he was to snapping.
I rocked my hips again, teasing us both, and my magic flared like sparks on my fingertips. I could taste his hunger. I could feel mine.
The tension snapped.
He stood, lifting me effortlessly, carrying me across the room to press me against the wall. His strength made me feel weightless and wanted and wicked.
We kissed like we were starving.
We kissed like we’d been waiting lifetimes.
Clothes were nothing but an obstacle.
Magic danced around me as I stripped us both with a single flick of power.
“Oh, fork,” I gasped as his skin touched mine—hot and hard and alive.
“Your magic is so fucking hot,” he groaned.
And then he was lowering me onto him.
Yes. YES! But no.
What the fork?
He paused, eyes glowing, voice hoarse.
“Not yet.”
I almost cried.
“Why?”
He grinned, infuriating and sexy. “Because I’m a Bear, Honey. And I want to taste you first.”
And then he knelt.
The sight of this enormous, powerful man on his knees for me stole the air from my lungs.
His hands wrapped around my thighs, lifting them to his broad shoulders as his mouth moved closer to my center.
My head hit the wall with a thunk.
He stopped, growling as he stood and lifted me, dropping me onto a nearby chair instead.
His concern touched me. Ryan rubbed my head, kissed it, and I nodded, spreading my legs and shoving his shoulders down, waiting for him to take the hint.
He did.
And he fell face first into my pussy, inhaling me like I was his favorite meal, and then, those lips—his crazy bearish lips were tugging at my clit, and I went wild.
“Oh, fuck!”
I opened my eyes, waiting for pink lightning to strike, but the Goddess—bless her—gave me a reprieve.
Ryan growled, and my eyes met his as those prehensile lips curled around my hard little nubbin, and holy fork—my thighs shook.
My fingers dug into his hair.
My magic sparked and sizzled around us like a golden storm.
“You’re so hot for me, Honey. So goddamn sweet.”
“Ryan,” I moaned, panting as he ate me like a starved man.
Two thick fingers plunged inside me, but it wasn’t enough.
“Please,” I grunted. Pulling his hair, needing his thick cock to fill me.
“Patience, Honey,” he tutted, nuzzling my pussy with his lips and nose. “I’m gonna fill you alright, but I wanna feel you come on my tongue first.”
And when I came, it wasn’t just an orgasm.
It was a surrender.
A truth.
A bond I could no longer deny.
He didn’t stop.
Not until I was sobbing and shaking and clinging to him like he was the only thing anchoring me to this earth.
Which, in that moment, he was.
Because this wasn’t just sex.
It wasn’t even just magic.
It was him.
Ryan McLeod.
My Bear.
My fated mate.
And whether I was ready or not, this was only the beginning.