by Kiki Howell
He made short work of shoving her hand down under the waist of his boxers. More than happy to obey, she grabbed his hard cock as she listened to his breath hitch. Yet still, he managed a growl deep in his throat after. It vibrated through her as she squeezed him harder, moving her hand up until the rounded head settled in her grip. She moved her other hand down to cup his balls, hearing the changes in his breathing patterns, as she rubbed and squeezed as gently as she could manage, though she could tell her slight roughness only fueled the fire of his need for her.
He pushed her back to the bed then, tugging open her thighs, revealing to him her glistening folds there that pulsed, ached, begged for him. He gave her what she wanted and more in no time at all, gloriously ungentle in his biting and sucking of the area, his licks more gentle spanks against her flesh. When he swiped his tongue across her hard clit, she rose up, arching her back. When he kissed her folds again, with more force this time, she let out a cry that surely scared the animals in the surrounding woods. With no magic at all, she swore the world tilted, the animals rushed away, the energy of the entire universe converging to help them come together in this moment.
She moved with it, sitting up, grabbing his erection and forcing it into her mouth, loving the salty taste of his skin mixed with the first drops of pre-cum. She explored him, by feel and touch. She granted more pressure in places to add to that frail line between pleasure and pain, then allowed for some gentleness in other spots to the point of a tickle and tease. She studied how he responded to her with urgency and curiosity, as if nothing else in the world could be more important than this.
She took as much of him as she could get into her mouth, responding in elation to the way he sucked in air. As she pleased him her stomach continued to tighten. Even with all the other sexual encounters she'd had that had meant so little, she'd never allowed herself such freedom with a man. She sucked him into her mouth and then released, letting her lips slide along the taut, red skin until swollen veins showed there, too. She let her tongue ride along them, lick and press, inciting him to pump his hips. She held on, digging her fingers in as he tried to get more and shake her off at the same time, she assumed not knowing how much more he could take. She knew that line well.
When she'd crossed it, she guessed, he reached down and grabbed her, pulling on what he could manage to grab of her body. He turned, falling to his back on the mattress, taking her along with him. She landed straddling him, and with a firm hand pressing on her back he moved her up higher until she ended up on her knees, thighs spread, positioned over his head. He brought his mouth up hard against her tender flesh. He pressed his fingers into her generous hips holding her tightly in place as he went back and forth between teasing kisses and torturous sucks. As she came, falling over that edge this time, he moved his hands to cup her ass, kneading the skin there, massaging it until she wanted more, wanted him inside of her.
As if he read her mind, he slid her back down his body, settling her over his erection a second before forcing her down on his hardness. The thick invasion to her heated core stole her breath, even her train of thought until they were just one, a union of overly enticed nerves rubbing against each other in a furious and greedy display.
She rode him hard, at his direction, at her desire, her inner thighs hitting his hipbones, sending shots of pain that amplified the pleasure. The bed squeaked under their escapades, but it sounded like music as he took her up and over that edge once again. This time she couldn’t have told him her name if he'd asked. The rubbing of his pelvis under her clit joined with the thrust of his cock against that soft fleshy skin inside of her caused more contractions within, making her walls grip him as he slid in and out, pushing her again over that precipice.
With a loud growl he tensed, crying out his own release on a howl into the wilderness surrounding them as they finally came together as one inside that cabin.
Only when he had drained every last ounce of energy, emotion, and pleasure out of her, did she let herself fall into his arms, her body covering his. As she nuzzled her face into his neck, his fingers combing through the tangles left in her hair, she sighed out her satisfaction, sated beyond reason, exactly where she wanted to be. A place where only the two of them existed, someplace different, experiencing something different, like love, as they settled into each other.
"Tell me, once and for all, about this savior stuff, about why my best friend gave me his girl. I believed him, or we wouldn't be together now, but I need to know the how and why of it," Jacob said into her hair, the brush of his breath telling her how he truly felt about her and what had just happened between him.
She wiggled a little, eliciting a moan, and so she started her Sylvia story. Luckily, he'd laughed, sat stunned, chimed in his relief, as she'd told him each sordid detail starting with the day at her mother's house.
"I can't tell you how happy I am to hear it all, to let go of any sort of bro code that hung over the situation no matter what Ian said, no matter how emphatic he was about your relationship being fake."
"It was fake, Ian and I. This isn't, Jacob. For the first time in my life, this isn't fake, and I'm on board, terrified and all."
"I'm all in, too. First time, just the same. Talk about finding good in a horrible situation. We get to live here together, just us, for who knows how long. I can't take you out on any dates, but I can give you the cabin you always wanted. I can give you time. And, I can give you love."
"Love?"
"Yes, love. You realize that panthers mate for life?"
"I think this witch can live with that."
With a smile on her face, and a peaceful yet slightly erratic beat to her heart, she snuggled into him again, falling asleep to the slowing rhythm of their synchronized breathing, knowing she had found her savior in so many senses of the word. Some day she'd get her life back, or some semblance of it, only this time, she'd have the love of her life with her. She'd fallen victim to Sylvia, keeping the woman's record intact, and she had no problem with that, with having fallen in love with her true savior.
The End
Read the next book in the Furever Mates Series, Book Two, One True Mate by Gina Kincade.
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A Taste of Book Two, One True Mate
About
Curvy psychologist—and panther shifter—Tallan Walden gave up on men a long time ago. Fed up with the insults and innuendoes about her size making her an easy target for sex, she's pretty much sworn off them for good. She's happy with her life just the way it is.
That is, until Sylvia Ludus, co-owner of the Shifting Hearts Dating Agency, sets her up on a blind date. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, and he’s hot for her generous body. Can he be for real, or is he just a better liar than the others?
Yet even if he’s truly her one true mate—as Sylvia promises—there’s one more enormous obstacle. No way can Tallan bring a bear home to meet her species-purist mother.
Will Sylvia’s magic touch bring Tallan the happiness she now wants, or is she destined to break the Shifting Hearts Dating Agency’s winning streak?
Chapter One
"You are absolutely stunning, Trina Marie Walden," Tallan said, love swelling in her heart for her baby sister.
She watched as Trina's smile grew in the mirror in front of them. In the reflection, Tallan saw her baby sister in her wedding gown, a glossy white satin with small touches of lace and pearls. Trina didn't need much to make her beautiful, though. A thinner, younger, stunning replica of herself, Tallan had never been jealous, always content to sit in the shadows, help her little sister shine, achieve, since before she even realized that was what she was doing.
Trina liked to throw around the old maid card when trying to get Tallan to come out of her shell, to take her nose out of a book, or come home early from work. Tallan took it as a term of endearment by now. She found nothing wrong with throwing one's life into one's work. In fact, this ethic made her a woman she could be proud of, culminating in her
point to existence, her reason for being in the world.
As a psychologist, the gratification of the work sustained her, gave her the connection to humanity she needed. When the work became tough and draining, this thought process gave her an excuse to dig in, to study harder, to have something to fight for, a higher level to strive to achieve. Everyone needed to love and to be loved. Tallan simply showed her love through listening and subtle suggestions that made her patients feel as if they'd come to the solution on their own. Pride in one's accomplishments went a long way, for her and for them.
It had always been enough. With a big family and black panther pride, her heritage gave her the strength she needed, the connections to others, the love that sustained her, filled her enough to offer to others such a gift. She needed nothing else.
What the mirror also reflected was the way in which Tallan hid behind her sister, not caring to see her own well-rounded body in her burgundy bridesmaid dress. Not that she hadn't come to terms with her curvy figure and her looks long ago. She had, but she didn't need to stand out in a crowd. One could have the self-confidence to love themselves as they were without flaunting, contrary to popular belief. She didn't need the limelight. She didn't need to turn men's heads. She needed to support her family, her pride, and her patients. Her looks didn't affect any of that. Loving her roles in life, comfortable in her own skin, she'd found contentment even if no one else around her could accept that she had.
"If only I could but see you as happy, my sister," Trina managed, a laugh interrupting her words before she could finish, the joke getting funnier to her every time she used it.
While this amused Tallan, also touching her heart, she feigned her distain.
"You dare to attempt to quote Jane Austen to me, again, and poorly this time around, too, I might add. Well, sweet sister, I appreciate the attempt, both in speaking to me through a dearly loved novel and in the sage advice. Though you butchered the line, words, and delivery, I shall give you a pass because it's your wedding day. You focus on you, dear sister of mine. Today is your day." Tallan gave her sister's shoulders a squeeze, as the door opened to the room they had used to dress in.
Their mother walked in, shoulders square and her back ramrod straight, confident in herself. A stunning, fierce, and exceedingly intelligent woman, her panther always hovering close to the surface, protecting her young, she made a formidable appearance whenever she walked into a room. She gave most of the men in the pride a run for their money, though few, save their father, dared challenge or correct anything the woman said. He didn't even try very often, though more out of exhaustion they all assumed than anything else. He wasn't one to be trifled with either, so if she upset him in any way, he made note of it. While meddling parents, still active in all of their children's lives, they had a good marriage, and example to them all of the slight balances it took with the push and pull, the compromises. Work. Marriage, hell all relationships took work. Looking at her sister, she knew the woman she'd become knew that, too. Her and Lyle would be fine.
"It's time. The pride awaits. Let's go now," her mother instructed from the doorway, turning on her heel with the last word to walk away, fully expecting to be followed without a word said otherwise.
"Mom, doesn't Trina look beautiful," Tallan said, her eyes wide, signaling her mother to compliment her sister before they went though all she could see was her back already.
"Of course, it goes without saying," she stated with no tone to her voice at all as she whirled on them again. "Now, come. We mustn't keep the pride waiting. It is time one of my daughters wed, even if it is the youngest."
This whole day was to be a Jane Austen novel, apparently, the youngest not able to marry until the oldest did. With all of them out in society at once, it could hardly lead to sisterly relations, she quoted in her head, knowing her own quote to be lacking in exactness. She'd just have to read the book again, or maybe watch the movie when she got home tonight. The thought brought a bigger smile to her face. She took her mother's dig in stride, shaking off, literally with her head, then the rest of her body following. She moved behind Trina to follow her to the door as her mother again turned sharply on her heel to walk away. To lead, actually. Stopping in the hall, the older woman turned back again to scold Tallan into coming out first, as she needed to align herself with the best man to walk first down the aisle.
Doing as bid, Tallan stood up tall, or as tall as her five foot five frame allowed, to move to stand parallel to the best man who towered over her by at least a foot, making her look more like a dwarf in a short fancy dress. The ceremony small, as Trina had wanted, they'd chosen to also break a few wedding rules. For some unfathomable reason, Trina had insisted that the best man escort her sister, the maid of honor, down the aisle, rather than waiting by the groom. After this adjustment to the proceedings surely meant to give her old maid sister a few minutes with a man, though Tallan viewed it as more of several minutes in hell, the rest of the ritual would carry on as society dictated. Following her brutal obligation, their father would escort Trina down to her soon to be husband, Lyle.
Only to please her baby sister, Tallan looped her arm through Luke's, a bear shifter, and Lyle's best friend since boot camp who had somehow managed special leave from his current assignment to be here for the wedding. Though how he'd pulled that one off she still had no clue. She looked away when he grinned at her, keeping herself stiff, a forced smile on her face, and looking toward the end game: the end of the aisle in the great hall they used for pride business.
The building had been in the pride for decades now, having one great big room for gathering, along with a series of small offices in the back in which they had just used to dress and primp themselves for the wedding. The pride had access to the hall for whatever they deemed necessary, and this would not be the first time it had been used for a wedding. The ceremony short, performed by the alpha and pride counsel, the rest of the guests stood to either side of the room without chairs. It allowed for them to easily gather in a semi-circle around the couple for the nuptials, and then clear way for tables to be set up in the same area for the reception.
In place of pew or aisle chair decorations, each female standing there now had been given a small bouquet of flowers that resembled the large bouquet held by Trina.
Tallan had thought Trina's cascading flowers of purple, white, teal, and burgundy, full of calla lilies, hydrangeas, and orchids a stunning choice. Now, seeing that arrangement all over the hall, she mused her sister had an eye for this sort of thing and felt grateful the beauty gave her something to focus on other than the fact everyone in the room stared her way. Her own small bouquet accented her burgundy dress, which her sister had also chosen, having done much better than 'the purple potato sack' Tallan had originally picked. Her sister's words, of course.
At first, Tallan had scoffed at the dress with a crisscross bodice, empire waist, and full short skirt topped with taffeta and lace. Standing here now, ignoring Luke's frequent glances that had bordered on gawks and ogling, she breathed a bit easier, having seen how the dress not only pushed up her large breasts, but also accented each of her curves. More comfortable in simple dresses and sweaters for work—the style of a sweater to her meant long, big, and soft, one that could double as a blanket when needed—or a pair of cozy jeans with the same style sweater for anything outside of the office, she'd have never tried such a dress on had it not been to please her sister. She never wore flashy colors either, earth tones only for this raven haired, full-figured woman. However, she'd given in just for the day, for her sister's sake. Thankfully, she believed Trina would only marry once.
Her keen hearing relayed the soft, muffled behind hand gasps that rippled throughout the room as she filled the doorway. She'd take even the unexpected positive words regarding her appearance, surely spoken only out of surprise, as compliments to get her through the torture of walking down an aisle with all eyes focused on her. Heat flushed up her neck, making her pale skin blotchy, she assumed
. And, everyone knew red and burgundy clashed. Her cat purred at the encouraging words even as Tallan outwardly bristled her embarrassment.
She couldn't wait for her sister to make her grand appearance and gather the attention for herself for the rest of the day. No one gave her a second look with Trina around, and that's the way she'd come to like it. Wallflower or behind the scenes support roles suited her just fine.
"I've got you, babe," the bear clasping her arm whispered, moving his other hand over to pat the back of Tallan's hand.
"Who are you, Sonny or Cher?"
"What?"
"The song. You know the song, I've Got You Babe?"
His puzzled look showed he wasn't much into old music. She shook her head, faced forward, and waited for the signal from her mother to begin their walk. Yet, the woman took forever to strut down the aisle herself, not going to give the one in charge of the music the signal to begin the song until she was seated, her time in the limelight over.
"Let me rephrase. You look like you would rather be just about anywhere but here. So, just hold onto me if you need to. I'll get us there. You know, metaphorical support, not physical."
She shot him a side eye glance as if to tell him to shut up before saying, "Yeah, I got it the first time, but I'm good. Thanks anyway."
"Sorry, just trying to be a gentleman to a lady in need."
"I'm never a lady in need. Remember that." Tallan's claws flexed under her skin as her snarky retort hit its mark. She pushed her cat down, making her behave so as to not ruin Trina's day.
The song she knew to be their signal to walk began, at least ending this moment of torture only to replace it with another. As they moved, if she heard one more comment about how she should dress differently, in more flattering clothes like this dress, or how she really needed to get herself a man, she was going to hurt someone. She held back for her sister, secretly plotting revenge, or counting up how many times her sister was going to have to take her out for a movie and or dinner before she paid her debt.
