Chapter 7 #2
“Come on. After all these years living under the same roof, you never noticed I was different?”
“We barely lived under the same roof, and what do you mean different?”
He tsks and leans back, his palms meeting the countertop. “Isabella, you saw my knot.”
“And am I supposed to know what that is?”
“Many mammals have it.”
“Yeah, but not humans.”
He smiles. “Exactly.”
A forced laugh escapes me. “So what are you saying, you’re not human?”
“Not entirely.”
I arch backwards. “What is this? Are you fucking with me?”
“Isabella, have you ever hallucinated before? Why are you doubting what you saw?”
“No, but I also haven’t experienced an orgasm like that before, so it’s not hard to imagine a minor lapse in brain function.”
Time stops at my words. Derek’s mouth hangs open, and his bare chest heaves.
The mention of my orgasm makes everything heavy.
What more is there to say after a confession like that?
We can’t pretend it didn’t happen. How can we talk about anything else now that the words are out in the open?
He may be trying to convince me he’s a monster or whatever, but all I can think about is the way he felt between my legs, and from the look on his face—I can tell it’s the same for him.
The moment cracks as he parts his lips. “What a pity.”
“What?”
“That was minimal effort for me—injured and unfocused—and that was your best?”
“I said best in a while, excuse me.”
He flips to his knees, crawling the small space between us. It can’t be good for his injured arm, but he doesn’t seem to care as he moves over me. Once his lips are at the shell of my ear he whispers. “Want better?”
I’m dizzy from the fumes of him. Thank God I still have the ability to nod.
His lips crash against mine, and my hands snake around his neck, pulling him closer.
He kisses me reverently—peanut butter and beer on his lips.
The hand on his injured arm pushes the straggling strands of hair out of my face before tracing my jawline. He trails down my neck.
Before, in his bedroom, our embrace was rushed and full of determined ruin. This is immediately different, reverent even, as if he has something to prove.
His touch lowers, brushing my collarbone peeking out from my sleep set.
He works on the buttons of my shirt, torturously slow, pushing me back against the granite countertop as he crawls over me.
He palms my freed breasts, rolling my pebbled nipples under his calloused fingers.
I gasp for air under his lips, unable to stop my moans.
He lowers his lips to my ear, his stubble tickling. “Damn, you’re responsive. You hate me, so there’s no reason for you to pretend you’re enjoying something more than you are.”
I’m too delirious to respond. All I can do is moan.
“God, I could make you come like this, couldn’t I? Your ex must fucking suck at pleasuring you if this is all it takes.”
I arch into him. “Please,” I beg. The urgency for more weighs heavily on my nerves.
“Please?” He chuckles, eyes catching mine as his hand travels lower.
“Damn it, Isabella. Begging suits you.” His hand dives beneath the waistband of my shorts, immediately seeking out my wet heat.
“Fuck, Isabella.” He groans, remaining still as if his movement against me is too much for him as well.
I buck against him, needing more. “So fucking desperate. I love it.” He dives his fingers through me, stroking me softly.
“Jesus Christ!” I cry.
His mouth meets mine again, and he swallows my screams, still dancing his fingers through my slick valleys. “I fucking want to knot you,” he says into my mouth, the words barely audible. I have no idea what he’s talking about, but God, do I want that too.
“Fuck me,” I plead.
“Not yet.” He drags two fingers to my clit, and inserts another two inside of me.
“Fuck!” I yell. It only takes a few seconds before I’m barreling towards my edge. It’s so abrupt that it makes it impossible to stop my guttural groans. I should be mortified, but Derek’s moans mix in with mine, and his mouth drinks up my sounds. He doesn’t stop until I’ve stilled.
The fog clears, and I pop my eyes open, finding Derek gazing down at me. I reach for his tattooed neck, pulling him to my lips again while simultaneously reaching to free his cock. “Fuck me,” I whisper against his lips, my orgasm doing nothing to sate the deep-seated need to be filled by him.
He pulls back. “Wanna get pregnant?”
“What? No!”
He chuckles. “Then it’s probably not a good idea for me to fuck you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m on the pill.”
He scrunches his lips and studies me. “Hmm. I guess that should work.” In one fell swoop, he yanks my sleep shorts off, my ass cold against the counter.
I sit up on my elbows, barely fast enough to catch him pull himself free of his black sleep pants, his cock huge and glistening with precum.
He folds over me again, pinning me down.
He breathes against my neck as he angles his dick at my entrance.
I brace down, wanting him to fill me, but he laughs against me.
“I’ll fucking split you in two if you do that. ”
“Oh, shut up. You’re not that big.”
“Hm, seems like you need your eyes checked.” He inserts his tip, and I cry out.
“Your small hands are an illusion,” I say around my blinding pleasure.
“That’s it.” He slams all the way inside of me, and my vision blurs. It fucking hurts, but I completely forget about the pain as he thrusts in and out.
“Fuck you!” I groan.
He smiles against my neck, “Too busy fucking you.” He speeds up, as if unable to hold back.
I hate to admit it, even to myself, but he’s much bigger than any man I’ve ever experienced.
I’ve never felt so close to the edge from just penetration, especially after releasing so recently.
It infuriates me that I’m about to give him the satisfaction of another orgasm.
I cling to him, surprisingly desperate for more, for something I can’t name.
“I’m close. This is going to hurt at first.”
“What’s going to hurt?” He catches my gaze at the last second, his eyes wide in panic.
But it’s too late. His mouth curves around his pleasure as he releases inside of me, changing before my eyes.
Hair spreads across his skin. His nose elongates.
Ears pop from the crown of his head. His entire frame grows, caging me in.
As he sputters inside of me, something stretches my entrance.
I scream—not of pleasure, but at the giant fucking bear in the place of my stepbrother.
My stepbrother has turned into a bear.
I should push him away, should fight for my life even in my last moments, but as he expands further inside of me, the pain quickly changes into overwhelming pleasure.
Euphoria clouds my reason as my second orgasm washes over me.
I’ve never experienced anything as glorious.
If I survive this, I fear I’ll become addicted.
My screams of terror quickly turn into ones of sheer pleasure.
I can’t look away from the bear looming over me.
This can’t be real. I must have lost my mind, but as his pumps cease, my head clears once again, and the bear before me slowly melts away—returning to the human Derek—I realize the truth.
I just fucked my stepbrother. My stepbrother, who also happens to be a literal animal.