Snow and the Bear: Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (Grimm Bears Book 2)

by Natalie Kristen

  Whitney frowned and tried to shoo him out of the kitchen but he refused to budge.

  “Let me do my job, Mr Grimm,” she said, half-laughingly. “You'll get me fired!”

  “Fire you? What will I do without you, Whitney? I'll be lost.” He wasn't joking, but she laughed and smacked him on the arm.

  Hans tensed momentarily. Her touch sent shock waves through his body. She had moved out of his bedroom once she was well enough. “I've deprived you of your bed long enough,” she'd said, and went to park herself in the small guest room across the hall. But her scent lingered on his sheets and in his room.

  She tested his resolve and control every single night. Knowing that she was sleeping just across the hall, her soft, luscious body curled under the covers, made him hard as hell.

  She was in his house, within his reach, yet he couldn't claim her. He would only claim his mate when she was ready. Whitney was his mate. His bear had known it and his two brothers had known it the instant they stepped into his house. “You've let out this territorial scent, warning all other males away,” they told him. “Good thing you're our brother, or we'll have to stay far, far away from you.”

  Every night, when he lay on his covers, her sweet, inviting scent drove him almost mad with desire and hunger.

  He wanted her so bad. He stroked himself raw each night, imagining her moaning and writhing beneath him as he buried himself in her slick, tight heat.

  Hans stared down at Whitney. From her gasp and the look in her eyes, Hans knew that she had felt it too. That sizzling, electric jolt that brought the undeniable chemistry and sexual tension between them into sharp focus. They had been tiptoeing and dancing around each other, flirting, teasing and tormenting each other.

  “Whitney...” Hans growled her name as he moved closer to her. Turning off the fire on the stove, he gripped her by the waist and pulled her into his arms. The food smelled delicious, but his hunger was for her. She was the only thing he needed and wanted, and his burning hunger for her was driving him insane.

  Hans pressed his mouth over hers in a bruising, demanding kiss. There was nothing soft and tentative about the kiss. Whitney whimpered but she didn't fight him. Her lips parted willingly as she clung to his shoulders. She tensed only for an instant before her entire body melted against him, her sensual curves pressing deliciously into the hard planes of his body.

  Her eyes opened slowly when he finally broke the kiss. He held her tightly in his arms as she swayed on her feet and blinked repeatedly.

  “You can't do that,” she said hoarsely.

  “Do what?”

  “You can't kiss me senseless, and then...just stop,” she growled and bit her lip hard in frustration.

  “Who says I'm stopping?” Hans smirked. His eyes glinted wickedly.

  Whitney's plump, red lips curved seductively. “Good,” she whispered, pulling him to her. “Don't stop, Hans. Don't ever stop.” She raked her fingers through his blond hair and nibbled his jaw. “God, I've wanted to do this for so long.”

  “Whitney...” He buried his face in her neck and breathed in the unique, intoxicating scent of his mate. “I've been going out of my mind trying to resist you,” he growled.

  Her dark, brown eyes lit up with triumph. “Then we should just act on our desires. Life is too short. I almost died, you know,” she joked.

  But to Hans, that was no joking matter. His eyes flashed as he snarled. “I know.”

  Whitney cupped his face and whispered, “But I'm alive. And I'm here, with you.”

  As she tilted her lips up to him, the scent of her arousal filled all his senses and Hans knew that there was no way he could leash his bear or his lust. His bear was clawing his restraint to ribbons. He had to have her now.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Whitney wrapped her arms around Hans's neck as he swung her up and carried her up the stairs. She was wearing a big t-shirt and track pants that were stained with sauces and oil splatters but she didn't care. She didn't care that she was sweaty from doing the housework and that the smell of cooking clung to her hair and skin. She didn't need to dress herself up in silk and satin to feel beautiful in front of Hans. He made her feel beautiful just by looking at her.

  He found her very attractive and desirable at all hours of the day. When she jumped out of bed in the mornings and raced to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for him with her hair haphazardly pushed back by a frumpy, unfashionable hairband, Hans would still greet her with a smile that sent heat hurtling straight to her core when he came into the kitchen.

  He looked really dashing in a suit, and every morning she would take the chance to adjust his tie at the door, just so she could stand close to him and breathe in the scent and warmth of him.

  He never kissed her each morning before he left for the office, but the way his eyes lingered over her was more intimate and arousing than any kiss. The way he looked at her made her feel both naked and powerful at the same time.

  She knew he wanted her. He desired her, but he also respected and admired her. She might be in his house working as his housekeeper, but he never disrespected her. She felt safe, protected and cherished, and she found herself falling quietly and quickly for her Prince.

  Hans was like her Prince in a fairy tale. He saved her life, and rescued her from the clutches of her evil stepmother.

  Whitney had to stop a girlish giggle from bubbling out of her chest. She had never been in love before. Oh, she'd had boyfriends, but she'd never fallen head over heels in love with any man before. Maybe if those relationships had been given time to grow and develop, love might have blossomed. But she had always put her work and the company first.

  She didn't want to let her grandmother and father down, and she knew that there were many loyal employees whose livelihood depended on the success of the company.

  Whitney never thought that love would happen to her. Most people thought that being the heir to Snow White Cosmetics, she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. They thought Whitney Snow was just a spoiled, privileged little heiress.

  When her grandmother and father were alive, she lived in a nice, big house and enjoyed the best of everything. Her grandmother and father loved her dearly but they didn't spoil her. They taught her the value of hard, honest work, and they showed her that respect and recognition had to be earned.

  Whitney never went to all the parties for the rich and famous. Her stepmother, Queenie, went to all those glitzy parties and events, and frequently appeared on the pages of glossy magazines. It was publicity for the Snow White brand, she supposed, but really, consumers were savvy these days. They would only support a brand if they were assured quality and results. No amount of schmoozing and smiling at cameras would improve a company's bottom line if their products didn't deliver.

  Whitney had never really let her guard down with any man. She knew that some of her ex-boyfriends had been more interested in her family name and wealth than in her. She learned very early on that almost everyone wanted something from her. Even people whom she thought of as friends had tried to get business information and secrets from her.

  Whitney had closed her heart off long ago. She threw her heart and soul into her work, and she opened her heart to nobody.

  Hans was the only one who had broken through her barriers. Maybe it was because he had saved her life.

  Maybe it was because he really cared about her.

  Or maybe she was just delusional because she had taken a hard knock to the head and didn't know any better.

  But what was undeniable was the fact that she was falling for him. She had been falling for him since she first opened her eyes beside the stream and looked into his piercing, worried green eyes.

  She had seen kindness and strength in his eyes. And a raw, fierce protectiveness and love. She would never have believed that a stranger could care so deeply and unconditionally for her if she hadn't met Hans. Hans and his brothers were like her family, her real family, a fami
ly who loved and supported her.

  Whitney buried her face in Hans's neck and let down her defenses completely. She felt safe and free with him, and she wanted her heart to be free as well. Free to feel and trust and love.

  She wanted to feel everything with him, physically and emotionally. “Be with me, Hans,” she whispered. “The whole night.”

  “I will be with you, forever,” he promised solemnly as he kissed her again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Whitney shivered in Hans's strong arms, and inhaled a deep, long breath as he carried her into his bedroom. For so many nights, she had lain in her bed, in the guest room just opposite Hans's bedroom, and remembered the feeling of sleeping in his bed. She had stared at the ceiling and tried not to imagine his hands and mouth on her. She had indulged herself and fantasized about Hans, but she never thought that he would really make love to her. She had never been lucky in love. She had no reason to think that her luck was about to change. Until now.

  Whitney pulled Hans down with her on the bed. She loved the feel of his broad, hard body against hers, and she loved how he touched her. Gentle but possessive, firm yet tender.

  She wanted him to kiss her again, and again. She would never get enough of his kisses now that she'd tasted his lips.

  She reached up to kiss his throat through his open collar. The low growling sound in his throat sent butterflies somersaulting low in her belly. Clumsily unbuttoning his shirt, she pushed aside the two halves of his shirt to expose a ripped, tanned torso.

  Whitney knelt on the bed and traced her hands all over Hans's solid body. She could feel his muscles flexing and tensing under her fingertips. His jaw was tightly clenched as he held himself still for her. His control was remarkable. He didn't touch her at all. He just stared down at her with blazing eyes while she explored his body and drove him crazy with lust.

  Whitney felt giddy with power. Her touch was driving him insane, yet he let her take control and explore every inch of him. He was showing her that she owned him completely.

  Whitney tugged impatiently at his belt. She could hear her own heavy breathing and grunts whereas Hans didn't appear to be breathing at all. He was so still and silent, watching her with burning, glowing eyes.

  Whitney could sense his bear rising, and it aroused instead of frightened her. She had seen his bear once, when he saved her from the burning wreck of her car. Hans was impressive as a grizzly bear. He was ferocious and powerful, and he had saved her life with his brutal speed and strength.

  She saw that same blazing, feral look in his eyes now. The bear and the man were staring at her with undisguised hunger and desire. Whitney whimpered as she felt her own lust cresting to match his. It was as if she could read her own spiking desire in his eyes.

  Whitney dug her nails into Hans's back as she rubbed against him. She hated the feel of her bra and t-shirt on her skin. They were obstructing her, blocking her, hiding her from him. She wanted to feel his hot skin on hers, rubbing, moving and sliding against her.

  When she yanked her t-shirt up over her head, Hans caught her wrists in one hand and pushed her down on the bed. He shredded her bra with his claws and lowered his mouth to her breast.

  Whitney cried out at the wonderful, explosive sensation of his tongue and teeth on her nipple. There was sharp, screaming pain followed by hot, wet, dripping pleasure.

  The ache between her legs was growing more and more intense. Whitney writhed and undulated beneath him, frustrated by the offending fabric between them.

  Whitney felt a rush of moisture between her thighs as Hans ripped her track pants and panties from her hips. She spread her legs wide for him and begged, “Please...”

  Hans knelt between her legs and pressed his mouth hard against her quivering pussy. His tongue swirled around her engorged, erect clit, flicking it and licking it with increasing pressure.

  His hands kept touching her everywhere as he fucked her with his tongue. Whitney moaned and writhed against his skilful, relentless mouth.

  Hans kept sucking and licking her. He thrust his tongue in and out of her slit, and lapped greedily at her juices. He couldn't seem to get enough of the taste of her, and he pushed her thighs wider apart to expose more of her wet, pink pussy.

  Whitney bit down on the pillow as she came forcefully. Hans stroked his fingers into her as he sucked hard on her hard, sensitive clit. Whitney could feel her muscles contracting and clamping down on his long fingers as he kept moving in and out of her body.

  “Hans...” she rasped. “Take me, Hans.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hans stared down at Whitney's lush, naked body, spread out on his bed. The scent of her arousal and need was pulling his beast to the surface. His bear could scent the hunger of its mate, and it was clawing at him to claim her and mark her as his.

  Whitney was his. When he used his body to shield her from the explosion, he had known without a doubt that this amazing, defiant female was his. She had defied death, and he swore that he would fight all her enemies for her. No one would hurt his mate.

  Whitney called his name, and his heart clenched. His female needed and wanted him right now. He could deny himself, but he could never deny her anything. Not now, not ever.

  Hans shed his clothes and pushed Whitney's legs up. He rubbed the head of his throbbing cock down her pussy lips, smearing her sweet, sticky juices over her pink folds. Whitney thrashed her head and moaned.

  “Fill me, Hans,” she panted, digging her nails into the mattress. “I want you inside me. I need you...please...”

  Her body was crying out for his. Every cell, every nerve in her body responded to his touch. She was his mate, and instinctively, her body reacted to his and hungered for his. Her mind might take some time to accept the fact, but it was a fact. She belonged to him.

  Hans nudged his cock into her slit, and Whitney sucked in a sharp breath. She pushed herself up on her elbows and her eyes widened when she saw how big he was.

  But she only grew wetter for him. As Hans inched his rigid cock into her body, her juices squirted out and trickled between her thighs. Hans used two fingers to smear her juices over her swollen clit, rubbing in furious, tight circles until she cried out and came suddenly.

  As her body shuddered with pleasure, Hans drove himself deep into her and felt her slick walls grip his cock possessively. Her channel fisted his cock and squeezed, and Hans almost lost all control.

  He growled and bit down on her breast, making her arch off the mattress.

  Whitney wrapped her legs around his hips as he began to piston in and out of her. She was so wet and tight and hot, and she was fuckingly beautiful. She stretched her arms up and grabbed the headboard as he pounded into her. Her silky black hair fanned out on his white pillow and her blood red lips formed a perfect “O” as she threw back her head to bare her throat for him.

  Hans felt his bear rise and his fangs lengthen. He pushed his sharp teeth into her shoulder and bit down.

  Whitney screamed in pain and ecstasy as she climaxed. Hans poured his seed into her body and roared his claim. Whitney orgasmed again, her walls tightening and rippling around him.

  They held each other possessively, their bodies still joined as they collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets. Whitney was panting, her body still quivering as she struggled to open her eyes.

  Hans pushed himself up and kissed her lovingly on the mouth. He was still hard, and he moved slowly, languidly in and out of her relaxed, sated body.

  She moved one leg up and down the back of his muscular thigh and smiled. “You're making me horny again.”

  “You make me horny all the time,” Hans countered.

  Whitney laughed and hugged him.

  “You know, I've been thinking,” she said as he came to rest beside her.

  Hans nuzzled her lovingly and murmured, “What about?”

  “About going back to the company.”

  Hans tightened his grip
on her shoulder.

  “You're going to confront your stepmother.”

  “I think it's time,” Whitney said grimly.

  “Can you remember everything now?” he asked. “Can you remember what happened…?”

  Whitney took a deep breath and said, “Not quite. But almost.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Magic Mirror.”

  Hans frowned. “You said that before. What does that mean? It didn't make sense when you said it earlier. It still doesn't.”

  “It's what I saw. Before the accident.”

  “You saw a magic mirror?” Hans looked worried.

  “I saw it...on a man.”

  Now Hans looked worried and scared. “Whitney, maybe I should call Dr. Hunter...”

  “No, no, I'm not crazy. I did see it. It was a tattoo...”

  “Oh.” Hans blew out a breath of relief. “A tattoo of a mirror.”

  “Yes.”

  Hans nodded once. His eyes glinted dangerously, and his face became stony and forbidding. “You saw a man with a tattoo of a mirror. I'll find this man, I swear. He has something to do with your accident.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Whitney stood on her toes and kissed Hans on the cheek at the front door. “Have a good day at work,” she said, smiling.

  He pulled her in and kissed her full on the mouth. “I'll find the man with the mirror tattoo,” he said against her lips. “Even if he wasn't the one who tried to run you off the road and kill you, he saw what happened. You remembered him. That's important.”

  Whitney gave a jerky nod. “I wish I could remember everything. But every time a fragment of the scene appears in my mind, it just slips away before I can hold on to it and see the whole picture. It's like I don't want to remember, but that's not true! I want to remember!” She balled her fists, feeling angry and frustrated at herself.