Eric's Edge

by Holley Trent

  Kissing between her cleavage and down her soft belly, he let his hands rove down the insides of her thighs, where he pressed her legs farther apart. Holding them in place, he kissed her clit before pulling it into his mouth.

  Her fingers locked into his hair as he swirled the tip of his tongue around the bud and gently flicked at it.

  No hard presses, no punishing thrusts, just a teasing taste of her cream and a loving appreciation of her body.

  He licked her slit slowly, her toes digging into his legs, the press of her hands urging him on because she probably wanted to come.

  But, so did he, and she was going to make him come.

  He kissed the inside of each of her thighs—wet from her own arousal—and hovered over her, his cock pressed to her entrance.

  No condom, no barrier, no impersonal impediments. She needed to be claimed. She’d been his for so many years, but unclaimed, and the part of him that was bear wasn’t going to let that stand any longer.

  “What happens, happens,” he said. “But, I’m going to fuck you like this. Tell me no.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled her down, sinking the end of his cock into the entrance of her pussy. “Yes.”

  “You’re mine.” He sank home, hissing as her sheath clenched his cock so tightly. “I’m going to make sure you never forget.”

  Maybe it was corny, but he didn’t care. All that mattered at that moment was how warm she felt, how welcoming she was of him into her body.

  Her hands smoothed up his arms and shoulders to his cheeks, and she guided him down for a kiss, imploring his tongue with her own.

  Beginning a slow, easy rhythm with his thrusts, he moved in and out of her, loving her gently as his tongue claimed her harder, and even with his lips, he wanted softness, and he slowed there, too.

  His bear wanted more—more speed, more intensity—but the man part of him was behind the figurative steering wheel, and he wanted to make sure Maria knew what she meant to him.

  She wrapped her legs around his torso and just held on, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as he stoked her so slowly.

  “You’re killing me,” she whispered, even as she shuddered beneath him and clenched him tightly.

  “Just returning the favor.” He reached between their bodies and pressed his thumb to her clit, making her buck, and still, he kept up that excruciating pace.

  He loved feeling her—loved finally having the chance to pay attention to her body and not just wreck it. There’d always be time for fast, itch-scratching sex, but making love was important, too.

  Kissing down neck, she raked her nails up his back again and again, alternately whimpering and moaning as his balls ground against her sex. She was taking every inch of him and he knew she could take more—could take it harder so he slammed the very end of her with every thrust—but this was better for him.

  He grabbed a fistful of her hair and nudged it away from her ear. “This is how I want to wake up every morning. Inside you, and you letting me have my way.”

  “You can have your way.” She rocked her hips up and let out a surprised-sounding gasp, and he figured he must have hit something she liked.

  So he thrust again and again, trying to hit that some spot and she came apart beneath him, shuddering and barely able to draw breath. Clawing at his back.

  “You’re really gonna let me have my way?” He increased his pace moderately, now stroking for the purpose of completion—to finally give his tortured cock its long-wanted respite inside her, his mate.

  “You can have your way,” she repeated, her body still slightly convulsing and her teeth chattering. “You can have what you want. Just don’t…”

  “Don’t what, honey?”

  One more forceful thrust had his dick convulsing and his seed spilled, and his inner bear roared his approval. Maybe he’ll be quiet for a while now, and even as the thought it, the bear thought of his consciousness returned, Fat chance.

  He wanted to take Maria again and again, because she was his, and she was compatible. She’d give him cubs, he hoped, and it was the season where he wanted to try to put one in her.

  “Don’t break me,” she said softly.

  He brought his mouth down to hers once more and kissed her lips, then her cheeks, then up to the eyes that were wet and spilling their tears.

  “Not gonna break you, honey. I’ve been trying to fix you all this time. Why would I go and break you now?”

  “Promise me.”

  “I shouldn’t have to. You’re the empath. You can feel that I mean what I say.”

  “But I want to hear it from you. Tell me.” Her voice was desperate, and if she needed those words so badly, he was going to give them to her. He’d give her whatever she needed for as long as she let him.

  He’d tell her whatever she wanted, and he’d mean it.

  “I promise, Maria.” He kissed her temples, and then rolled onto his back, taking her with him to lay her on his chest. “I promise I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you happy and satisfied. I want you smiling and glowing, and not just because the sex is so good, but because you’re at peace with yourself.”

  “Eric, I—”

  “No, if I’m going to make promises, you are, too. I’m gonna stick around, Maria. I know things about you, and I haven’t gone running. Haven’t you figured that out? I’m not going anywhere. I know what you are, who you are, and I love you anyway.”

  “You do love me.” Her voice took on a bit of a rise at the end as if she somehow couldn’t understand how that would be the case.

  “I do.”

  She patted his chest idly for a minute, maybe, and let out a resigned sigh. “I love you, too. That’s why I try so hard to push you away.”

  “That’s not the way it’s supposed to work. You’re doing it wrong, honey.”

  “I just don’t want history to repeat.”

  “It’s not going to repeat. You’re with the right guy. You have what I want, so why would I try to change you…aside from making you wear shoes and eat a decent meal every now and then?”

  She snorted, and the forceful expulsion of air tickled his chest. “Buyer beware, Falk.”

  He chafed her back and got them upright. “I know what I’m getting.”

  “And you’re sure you want it?”

  He herded her toward the bathroom, pinching her ass appreciatively as she walked. “Yep.”

  “Make sure of it.”

  “Get in the shower, woman. I haven’t wavered once in years. Why would I change my mind now?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Pouting, Maria watched Eric retreat into the kitchen with a couple of Bears on his heels, and felt a surprising sense of loss.

  “He’s just going to start dinner. He’ll be back,” Dana said with a laugh.

  “You caught that, huh?”

  Dana shrugged and settled onto the sofa in the lodge’s great room across from Maria. “I guess it’s normal when you’re a shifter’s mate. Tamara has mused about it before.”

  As if summoned, Tamara glided into the room at that moment with Astrid, chattering a mile a minute.

  “I’m feeling pretty pathetic,” Maria said.

  Dana gave her a dismissive wave. “You’ll get over it in time. He’s your man. Eventually, you won’t care who sees, who knows, or what they think.”

  Tamara stopped in her tracks. “Who’s whose man?”

  Astrid snorted and took the seat beside Dana. “Eric is Maria’s man.”

  Tamara stomped her foot. “Since when?”

  “Since forever, apparently,” Astrid muttered. She settled low in the chair and put her feet up on the coffee table.

  Tamara sank heavily onto the cushion beside Maria and glowered at her.

  Maria shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “So when you told us that we should be getting recreational dick to mitigate some of our stress, the dick you were getting all that time was Astrid’s brother’s?”

 
Astrid made a noise of disgust.

  Maria laced her fingers together atop her lap and shrugged. Dana had said that Maria would get to the point where she didn’t care what people thought, but she was with the Shrews. She was always going to care what they thought.

  “You little minx,” Tamara said.

  Maria chuckled. “I’m just an opportunist. He was safe and available, and I guess he was what I needed.”

  “The safe part is important.” Astrid scanned the room and looked at each lady. “We’re down just one Shrew.”

  “We could always video chat with Sarah,” Dana said, “but I talked to her a couple of hours ago and she was dying for sleep. I think Gabrielle’s hitting one of those growth spurt periods where she’s always hungry, and Sarah’s going a little batty.”

  “I’m sure Felipe is, too,” Astrid said. “Fabian’s just like him. They both overreact to baby stuff.”

  “Can you blame them given the way they grew up?” Maria asked. “They’re going to be extra clingy to the little bit of family they have.”

  “I’m sure they didn’t expect their family to practically triple in a year.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Tamara twirled a length of her long blond hair around her finger and narrowed her eyes. “Their father showed up, both got married, Felipe has a baby, and Fabian has one on the way. Your kids and Sarah’s are going to be first cousins,” she said to Astrid.

  “Yep. I think both guys want big families, so we’ll see what happens.”

  Maria could tell when Dana’s mood started bottoming out, even if neither of the other ladies could. She may have been wearing a tender smile, but inside, she was torn to shreds. Her aura was weak, and her energy was so cold. So sad.

  “It’ll be okay,” Maria whispered.

  Dana let out a breath. “Hope so.”

  The other lades stopped smiling. They’d always been intuitive, even without owning Maria’s empathic gifts.

  “What did the doctor say?” Tamara asked. “I worry I may have the same issues as you. I think Bryan has been afraid to bring it up.”

  “She said there are options.” Dana shrugged halfheartedly. “If we can’t find the right drug combination to make my womb hospitable, there’s always surrogacy.”

  “It’s not a bad option,” Maria said.

  “I know. I still can’t help feeling a little disappointed. It’d still be my kid and Patrick’s, but I wanted that nine months, you know?”

  Maria fixed her gaze on her lap and nodded. Pregnancy was kind of the gateway to motherhood. It was a visual countdown of what would happen and helped Mom adjust to the upcoming event. And of course, there was the bonding part. Even Maria’s mother had wanted it, in spite of her dire medical predicament. It was all the time she’d had with her baby.

  “When will you decide?” Astrid asked.

  “Not until after this Bear mess settles down,” Dana said. “Who knows how long that’ll take? But while we’re on the subject of Bears…”

  Maria didn’t have to look up to know why Dana’s voice had trailed off. She could feel the incursion in their space, into their energy. Someone else had entered the room. She did look up, though, to confirm who it was.

  It was the woman from the loft.

  Astrid waved her in. “Don’t mind us. We look like we’re shooting the shit, but we do manage to get a little work done every now and then. Turn on the television if you’d like. The remote is on the mantel. If you’d like a snack to tide you over until dinner, there are some pretzels and nuts on the wet bar.”

  The lady nodded, but didn’t move. Her dark gaze shifted from Astrid to Maria and locked there.

  Oh, hell.

  “Maybe it’s this place or the altitude,” she said in that lilting voice, “but somethin’ ain’t right to me.”

  “I hear the lodge is haunted,” Tamara said.

  “It’s not ghosts. I know ghosts. No ghosts here.”

  Maria glanced at Dana, who was staring at the newcomer agape.

  The lady pointed to each of them. “No, I don’t think my mind’s playin’ tricks. You’re not right. None of you are right.”

  The Shrews got accusations like those every now and then, and their tactic was generally to remain quiet and see what the people were getting it. Sometimes, they weren’t referring to supernatural stuff at all, so the Shrews had learned to be silent.

  “You’re not human.”

  Shit.

  The lady brought her finger around again, pointing to each. “I see you. All you. You look human enough. Got all the right parts and appear the right way, but you ain’t normal. Something’s wrong with you.”

  “What do you imagine it is?” Dana asked in a neutral tone.

  The lady shrugged. “Dunno. I think you do, though.”

  Dana turned her hands over in concession.

  “No word for what you are.”

  “There are plenty of words.” Tamara brushed a bit of lint off her black cardigan. “None of them are particularly flattering. You could call us Shrews, if you like. That’s the word we’ve claimed.”

  “Shrew. That’s your company.”

  “How do you know that?” Maria asked.

  The lady pointed to Maria again. “Followed you. Asked the lady at the desk in your office where you went. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to, but she let me know after I told her why I asked.”

  “And why did you ask?” Astrid said. “Drea is good at keeping her lips zipped, so she had to be pretty convinced you weren’t up to anything malicious.”

  The lady bobbed her chin in Maria’s direction. “I think she knows.”

  Astrid cut Maria a gaze. “Do you?”

  “I think so. I think she might be my sister. Half-sister.”

  “Half. Whole. Doesn’t matter. I came here to see who this person trying to reach out to my grandmother was.”

  “I was just trying to connect. I don’t want anything from her.”

  “You’ll have to pardon me for being protective of her.”

  “Everyone should have someone looking out for them, even if they don’t think they need it.”

  “We all need it.” Tamara gave Maria the sweetest, shortest side-hug. Just right.

  The lady raised her chin and let it fall finally in a slow nod. “Just to connect, you said.”

  Maria nodded slowly. “Making up for lost time before it’s too late. I’m compelled to do it now. I don’t like having regrets.”

  “That’s definitely a Shrew thing,” Astrid said softly. She got to her feet and cracked her back. “I’ll go see if Eric needs any help.”

  “Why bother?” Tamara asked. “He’s just going to send you out saying you’re disrupting his flow.”

  Astrid gave Tamara a long stare. “Maybe we’re disrupting the flow in here, too.”

  “It’s fine,” Maria said. “I don’t have anything to hide.” She looked to the lady. “Do you?”

  “No. Not a thing.”

  “Well, then.” Dana stood, too, and leaned across the coffee table to extend a hand to the woman. “Dana Slade-O’Dwyer.”

  The lady shook it. “That’s a mouthful.”

  “Marry an Irishman, and you can get your own fun collection of consonants and vowels. I’m the owner of Shrew & Company.”

  “B-B-I-C,” Tamara said with a snicker.

  Dana rolled her eyes.

  “Big bitch in charge,” the lady said, laughing.

  “Now I know who came up with that. Thank you, baby Shrew.”

  Tamara grinned.

  “My name is Marcella Bailey,” Maria’s sister said. “Most folks call me Marcie.”

  “But what do you want to be called?” Maria asked.

  Her sister narrowed her eyes and seemed to have to actually think about it. That was why Maria had asked. When she’d said “Marcie,” her energy had flared as if the name offended her.

  “I’m fine with one person calling me Marcie, and that’s my grandmama. Can’t get upset at an old lady. Sh
e does what she wants, and you just cope.”

  The Shrews all laughed.

  “Marcella it is, then,” Maria said.

  Tamara moved over and Maria patted the cushion between the two of them.

  Marcella sat and looked at Maria. “Mama don’t call you Maria.”

  “What does she call me?”

  “She calls you Deborah.”

  “She wouldn’t know that name. My mother never had a chance to give it to me.”

  Marcella twined her fingers. “They talked. Before you were born, I guess. Made Mama promise not to let anything happen to you. Only so much a person can do from another country. She said the last time you went, she didn’t want to send you back because she knew she wouldn’t see you again for a while.”

  “Did she know that…my mother wasn’t my mother? My birth mother is dead. I was raised by my aunt.”

  “Ohhh, that explains it.” Marcella put her head back against the top of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “She always said something wasn’t right. They used to talk all the time, before you were born. Your mama was the one who reached out to her, and then she didn’t call anymore. Just sent you.”

  “I hope she isn’t upset that I couldn’t visit after that.”

  Marcella shrugged. “She was upset. Took it personal. I think she’s coming around, though. I told her you called. Old lady don’t wanna get her hopes up, though.”

  “I’ll try not to disappoint her.”

  Dana leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and tented her fingers. “So, what do you do for a living, Marcella, that you could just hop on a plane and come vet the lady you worried was harassing your grandmother?”

  Marcella turned her hands over and smiled serenely. “This and that.”

  “Oh, hell. That sounds like something one of my brothers would say,” Tamara said.

  “And what do these brothers of yours do for a living? I’m always interested in networking with fellow freelancers.”

  Tamara snorted and wedged her phone out of her back pocket. She tapped her thumbs against the screen for a while and chuckled. “Freelancers. That’s a new one. I’m going to have to share that with them because it sounds a lot better than the truth.”

  Soren busted through the kitchen doors, reading his phone screen, with a curious-looking Eric behind him.