by Lisa Ladew
Bruin raised his head, looking down the driveway they’d come in on, past the crowd of bearen. “We hand him over to the wolves.”
As if on cue, a line of police vehicles appeared out of the forest, heading up the drive.
Willow wiggled in his arms. “Bruin put me down.”
Bruin did, steeling himself against the heartache that came when she left his arms. She rested a hand lightly on his arm, the bear on her pendant staring at him from between her breasts. “There is one more thing which must be done.”
She held her free hand out to Beirne. His face showed how confused he was, but he still raised his hand for her to grasp. When she touched him, his eyebrows shot up. “Oh,” he grunted, and his free hand went to his left shoulder.
Willow nodded, keeping his hand for a few moments, then releasing him. Tears shone in his eyes as he ripped his shirt off and turned around and around. “Can you see it? Is it back?”
“Back,” Conri rumbled. “A fat berry on a vine.” He shot Bruin a tight smile. “Ah Rhen, I remember it now. Bru, you used to call him raspberry, remember?”
Bruin smiled. He did remember. Back when he and Conri had been cubs and the triplets had just been born. They’d come out of their mother’s belly with their thick, proud marks, and no one had ever believed they would lose them.
Willow held her hand out again. “Who’s next?” she said.
In no time at all, the line of bearen stretched around and around the estate, three hundred strong, all waiting to touch Bruin’s mate, most of them whispering a few words of apology to Bruin before they did so.
The wolven came and took his father away, and yet Bruin never lost his smile, or his satisfaction.
Chapter 32
“Where are we?” Willow mumbled. The vehicle had stopped. She was exhausted. She had returned renquas for many hours straight, finally touching the last bear as the morning sun rose in the sky.
“Conri’s place. He said he’ll sleep at the station house and we can use it for as long as we need it.”
“I’m sorry your house blew up,” Willow murmured, snuggling up against the car door, using Bruin’s spare shirt as a pillow.
“I’m just glad we weren’t in it,” Bruin said. “Sit up, ok, I’m coming around to get you.”
Willow did what he’d asked, and within a few seconds, she was in his arms. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his chest. How many times had he carried her now? It would be old hat by the time they got married. Married. No, mated. She’d plucked that word from Bruin’s mind and liked it. It sounded official, and long lasting, like mated for life.
Bruin got them inside the small house and headed down a hallway to a good-sized bedroom with a king bed in the center. It looked much stronger than the unused bed at his own house had been. His house that was now gone. Willow felt like crying at the loss. All his things she wouldn’t get to touch, to feel, to use to get to know him better.
Bruin sat her in a chair and rummaged around in a closet for something. “You need to get some sleep. I think someone is going to ask us to do some traveling soon, if you’re up for it.”
She perked up a little bit. “Traveling?”
Bruin stripped the sheets from the bed and remade it. “There are bearen all over the world, on every continent, who need their renqua back.”
“When do we leave?” Willow breathed, sights and sounds she’d only seen in movies marching through her mind.
“I don’t know. We’ll hole up here and wait for someone to contact us. Conri, probably. He’ll be in charge now. Do you need food?”
“No.” She’d eaten crackers and beef jerky on a short break about four hours before. All she needed was sleep.
Bruin finished with the bed and faced her, pulling her out of the chair, bending his head to hers, his face serious, his dimples hiding. “Can you stay awake long enough for a bath?”
“Bruin, I don’t want to take a bath.”
“I’ll bathe you.”
Oh. Well, maybe then. Erotic images sprang to her mind and she imagined the way he purred when he planned on kissing her. Would he purr? He stayed silent, but still her core swelled in anticipation and her breath came quicker. “I can stay awake.”
Bruin nodded quickly, sat her back in the chair, and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. She relaxed, listening to him move around in there, dismayed at how she was almost falling asleep again…
Bruin was in front of her. He pulled her to her feet. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, trying to dislodge some of the sleepiness. She wanted to experience this—
He plucked at her summer blouse, untucking it from her skirt. Willow stared at him, then drifted her arms up over her head. She’d kissed him dozens of times. Rubbed herself to orgasm on his leg. Encouraged his fingers to stroke her shamelessly. But she’d never been naked around him. She wasn’t big enough up top to need a bra, so if the shirt came off…
It did, falling to the ground as Bruin feasted on her tiny breasts with his eyes. That was the only way she could describe it. He consumed the sight of her and she sighed into the brazen naughtiness of it.
He licked his lips as he stared. Heat poured off him. A thought-form twisted around him, centering on his core, but she left it alone. She did not need to examine it to know what he was thinking or feeling. The same things she was. Need. Want. Thick and endless desire.
Bruin licked his lips again and the purring started, straggling at first, then stronger. She let her eyes drift closed and she put a hand on his chest to feel the vibrations. The purring was delicious, and it made her feel powerful.
His fingers hooked into her skirt, pulling it down slowly. Willow stepped out of it easily, eyes still closed, hands on Bruin’s shoulders. All that was left was her boots and her panties, white lacies that made her feel cute. Bruin’s purring accelerated at his view of her, making her feel sexy.
She opened her eyes and stared at her… mate. He was fully clothed, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark blue khakis with big pockets, and work boots. The same kind of outfit he’d been wearing when she’d first met him, but it had been a different color. She found it unbearably sexy on him, highlighting what he was at his core. A hard-working guy who got stuff done.
The situation felt incredibly erotic to her, in so many ways. He was clothed. She was practically naked. He ran a finger down her chest, between her breasts, down her belly, skirting her belly button, then playing with the top lace edge of her panties. How much he liked what he saw was obvious in every fresh line on his face, and she bloomed for him, becoming his for the taking.
He tried to speak and purr at the same time. She loved the result. “You’re incredibly sexy,” he rasped, his voice thick and sensual. She bit her lip and stared into his eyes, her hands hanging at her sides.
He circled around her, his finger tracing that top edge of her panties still, making her shiver as he crossed around to her back, then side, and then back to front again, tingles shooting to her clit and making it throb. She was ready for him. For this.
He brought her panties slowly down her legs and around her boots and she stepped out of them, her hands on his shoulders again, watching as his eyes zeroed in on her core. He couldn’t look away. He scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, then made to stand. Willow kept her hands on his shoulders and pushed down lightly, no more than a suggestion. Rogue had once called her greedy, sexually, and Willow realized she absolutely was. She’d shucked off her exhaustion entirely, and now she would ask for what she wanted.
Bruin looked up, checking in with her, then smiled, a sweet smile that put him at the candy store, about to partake in his favorite sweet things. He knelt before her, drawing her to him and throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, pulling her other leg to lean against him. Anticipatory pleasure shot through her, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. But she could feel his breath on her curls, then the soft whisper of what had to be a tongue almost on her flesh. She looked down at him, not wanti
ng to miss this, winding her fingers in his hair and holding on tight.
He locked gazes with her. “I don’t know what I’m doing, so you’ll have to direct me. I’m eager to learn, though.”
She bucked against him, trying to figure out what he meant. “You have to know what you’re doing. I know you’ve done this before.” But a rising thought-form told her that he’d meant what he’d said. He was a virgin. Had never even fooled around with a woman. He’d been waiting for his mate, the only female who could ever excite him, who would ever make him feel right.
Willow swallowed, nervous suddenly. That was a lot of expectation to be dropped in her lap, that this gorgeous hunk of a man had been dreaming of her, only her, for over a decade. What if she didn’t live up to-Oh! Sweet pleasure licked across her skin as Bruin latched onto her with his mouth, sucking ever so slightly, working entirely on instinct.
She threw her head back and yanked at his hair. Ohmygodyesyes! She remembered he needed encouragement or discouragement. She licked her lips, trying not to grind against his face and moaned a little bit. The moan felt good, relieving some of the tension his tongue was creating in her body, and so she moaned again, louder.
Bruin’s suction broke as he smiled but he got it right back, sucking a little harder and making her yelp as the intensity increased. She yanked his hair harder and lost her battle, grinding away, moving her hips in tiny circles that built tension rather than relieved it.
“Ohholycrudbruinyes!” she panted as he worked some sort of magic on her lower half, like nothing she’d ever imagined or experienced.
His purring, which had been idling, ramped up in speed and power as she manhandled him via his hair, yanking him harder against her. The lovely vibrations transferred from his tongue to her flesh and she cried out, unable to help herself, as sweet pleasure flowed through her, pushing all thoughts and feelings from her brain. She was only feeling, only light and energy. Her orgasm came hard and fast, pulsing through her as Bruin lapped at her.
She sagged, done, finished, her earlier sleepiness slamming back into her. Bruin stood, holding on to her the entire time, his smile one of pure male satisfaction. He wiped his mouth, and for just a moment as she pressed against him, she felt the stiff rod of his cock against her hip, then he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. She would never walk again with him around.
She kicked her boots off, wishing they were going to the bed, instead. Sleep. Sex. She would take either, but she did not want this bath.
Until he lowered her into the warm water. He’d set a rolled towel up on the edge to function as a pillow and she eased her head onto it. He knew how to spoil a girl, that was for sure.
He poured cups of warm water over her shoulders, while she let her head loll and her eyes close. His thick fingers explored innocent parts of her body, but she somehow made it dirty, with her utter enjoyment of it, and the way his touch made her want more from him, no matter where or what it was. She was swelling again already, swelling and throbbing and wanting.
The cup of warm water went to her crown, and he shielded her face with his other hand. “Your hair, Willow.” She shimmied so he could pour the water over her head and groaned as the warmth ran rivulets down her neck. Her feelings were on overwhelm, and she loved it.
He wet her hair, then squirted a strawberry-scented shampoo into his hand. His thick fingers speared into her hair, massaging her temples and all around her scalp. So relaxing. He spoiled her constantly, and she’d yet to give him one orgasm. Her fingers itched to touch him, and just when she was about to pull him in with her, he rinsed her hair, then pulled her out of the tub.
He dried her off with a lush towel, sliding it against her skin, as she appreciated his thick body. He stood, dropped the towel, and stared down at her. “This is what I was born to do,” he murmured.
“What?” she whispered.
“Take care of you.”
His fingers curled around her neck and his thumb caressed her jaw line, once, twice, burning a firebrand of sensation through her, spearing wetness at her core, making her lips swell and throb with intensity. God, the male was walking sex like this, his muscles bulging in his bent arm. She grabbed onto his forearm with both hands, holding on like the Titanic had gone down and he was a buoy, the only thing around for miles to cling to.
He swept her under the knees, and within minutes, he was laying her on the bed. “I need to wash,” he muttered, tucking her under the covers. “Give me three minutes.”
Again, Willow drifted off, her thoughts scattering as her mind rested. Quickly, Bruin was back. He eased onto the bed behind her, pressing only his upper body close to her, like he thought she was asleep and would not wake her. She reached behind herself, finding his damp naked hip. Oh thank god. No clothes. She pulled at him, trying to bring his body to meet hers. Wanting to feel… something.
And then she knew what she’d been waiting for. His cock, erect and so thick it made her gasp pressed against her backside, a steel rod that would not be denied. Her eyes flew wide. She was supposed to fit that inside herself? No… she didn’t think so.
Her body didn’t agree. It wiggled and squirmed against him. The purring, which had stopped while he was in the shower, started again full force. She couldn’t wait…
“You want this,” Bruin said, matter of factly, pressing into her.
“Yes.”
“I want you to have it,” he told her, his deep voice husky.
She wrapped her fingers around his cock, stopping him, her eyes on the wall. “Bruin, I’m a virgin.”
“I know you are,” he said. “So am I.”
She needed to remember that. “Bruin, I think you might be too big for me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, pulling his bottom half away from her, a note of concern in his voice.
She grabbed for him, curling her hand around his cock. The more she touched it, the more she loved the velvet feel of it. “I think you just need to… prepare me.”
“Ah.” She expected him to ask how, but instead he slid the blanket down off her shoulder, pushing it to her knees. He grazed his fingers down her arm and she shuddered with the sweet bliss of it. A touch without equal.
He ran his fingers to her wrist, then down to her hip and past, to her knee, then back around, twisting around her front as she curled her fingers around his erection, stroking it, but forgetting it, too, when her own pleasure heightened.
His fingers found her clit, softly touching and rubbing, gliding and pleasuring, until she cried out, and then he dipped them inside her. Her first time and it felt wonderful. Her sheath clenched at him, the pulse making her pant and get too aggressive with his cock, pulling at it. He bucked his hips and moaned, like he loved it.
There was no pain, no nothing but pleasure, and it filled her until she thought to beg. “Bruin, now.”
His fingers disappeared, and at her entrance was his thick cockhead, pushing slightly from behind. She hadn’t seen it yet, but she would, and when she did… She licked her lips and plotted, as Bruin thrust an inch into her. Just a bit. Just enough to make her want more. Perfect fit so far. The luxury of the slide and glide of hard cock against absolute softness made her gasp as her body teetered on the edge of another orgasm.
“Bruinbruinbruin,” she chanted. “Don’t stop. It doesn’t hurt at all. Not yet.”
“I was born to do this, too,” he said, his voice low and so sexy her core clenched down hard at his words. He eased more of himself inside. Too much, but when he reached around her body again, she relaxed.
“What?” she panted. “What were you born to do?”
“Pleasure you.” He thrust deeply, and the impossible stretching of her lips around him made her lose herself as she came, grasping his arm and pulling on it as her body clenched and spasmed around him. No pain. Intensity. Thickness. Stretching.
Fading fast, tired, her body ready to give in, she encouraged her mate, wanting to feel what came last, the finish, the compl
etion. Wanting everything he had to give.
He thrust twice more, hard, then stiffened, a thick moan coming from him, heating her insides with his lust and his seed.
Satisfaction combined with exhaustion made her logy.
She drifted to sleep.
Chapter 33
Bruin whistled to himself in his brother’s kitchen, cooking eggs in a basket for his mate. Willow. His mate. Him. The BOGI. Bruin chuckled and shook his head. Who would’ve thought? It didn’t matter what the job or title was. If it included Willow, he would rock it.
They’d slept for more than twenty-four hours, and it was morning again, but no one had called him, which was cool with him. He knew exactly what he planned on doing all day.
He heard the snick of the bedroom door opening in the hallway, and Willow’s footfalls approaching the kitchen. His cock swelled in his pants immediately and he stared at it for just a moment. Can’t even let her eat breakfast, huh?
But he couldn’t. Being inside her had been mind-blowing, amazing, better than he’d ever imagined all those years when he’d taken himself in hand and imagined what his mate would be like, how she would sound and smell and talk and walk. Fate had done a bang-up job with Willow. She was exquisite. So perfect for him and perfectly his. They fit together like lock and key. Honey and jam. Berries and pies.
He’d been up for an hour, and all he’d been able to think about was claiming her. Would she bleed? Did he actually have to bite her?
Willow came up behind him and wrapped her slim arms around his midsection. “How do you feel?” she asked, then, almost immediately, she stiffened, like she’d seen something that surprised or worried her.
She stepped back slightly, and he turned around, sorry for the tent in his boxers, but unable to do anything about it. When he saw she was as naked as he’d left her the night before after cleaning her up, the purring started in earnest.
She was looking just over his shoulder, her hands up to her mouth. “You’re going to bite me?” she said, fingers fluttering to her neck. Bruin wanted fiercely to be understanding of her worry, but when his eyes took in the smooth skin of that spot where her shoulder met her neck he licked his lips. He couldn’t help it. Bite. Yes. Hard. Yes. Now.
