by Rosanna Leo
“Wes, please shift back. We can talk about this some more.” She retreated, moving behind a couch. “If you mark me in your bear form, you’ll hurt me, and I know you don’t want to do that.”
The bear didn’t seem concerned. He plodded toward her, his breath shooting from his muzzle in angry bursts. Gioia crept backward around the room, Wes’ bear following her the whole time. She made her way back to the door and tried the lock again, but it seemed stuck. Darting nervous glances toward her approaching bear cousin, she banged on the door. “Please! Help!” She grabbed the handle and shook it for all it was worth.
In her terror, she was sure she heard a noise on the other side of the door. No, surely she imagined the frantic shuffling. But then there was a voice, or two.
“Gioia!”
“Mom!”
Soren and Gunnar. She pounded on the door. “I’m here!”
The door pounded back as Soren tackled it from the other side. “Stay back, Gioia. I’m kicking it in.”
“Wes is here,” she cried. “He’s shifted.”
A flurry of curses sounded from behind the door. Soren wasn’t pleased. As Wes moved toward her, she ran to the far side of the room. He picked up his pace and ran after her, his enormous paws landing on the concrete floor with an awful thud. Gioia stumbled over an end table and fell on her backside. Wes slid over her, caging her in with his hairy body. His lips pulled back in a hungry sneer.
There was a huge wallop on the door, then another, then another. Just as Wes lunged for her, the door was kicked open and Soren ran in, Ryland and Gunnar hot on his heels.
“Mom,” shouted Gunnar, frantic.
Soren took one look at the situation and shifted. He shook his head, growled in warning, and his body erupted in white fur and bear muscle. The massive polar bear surged toward the brown bear. Wes looked back and roared at the interloper. Gioia slid out from under him and raced toward Gunnar and Ryland.
Ry eased her behind him, and she hugged her son. “Can we make them stop?” she asked Ryland. “I don’t want them to kill each other.”
He produced a tranquilizer gun and aimed it at Wes. Unfortunately, the two bears were already all over each other, rolling and biting and swiping at one another. Soren clamped his mighty jaw on Wes’ shoulder, and the brown bear bellowed. Wes struck back by clawing Soren’s muzzle. As three vicious streaks of scarlet marred Soren’s beautiful white coat, Gioia gasped, “No!”
Ryland tried to aim as the bears battled. “They’re too close.” He let out a frustrated huff. “Soren, move your hairy ass!”
Soren ducked as Wes swung out again, retreating a couple of steps. Ryland swore for luck and took his shot. Gioia watched as the tranquilizer dart lodged in Wes’ thick neck. He stopped moving, uttered a low moan, and fell to the floor.
She raced over to bear Soren and buried her face in his strong shoulder. He nuzzled her with his large head, huffing. His coat felt so wonderful, soft and warm, but his heart was racing at a frightening pace. She looked at the hulking beast and bit back a cry at the sight of the blood absorbing into his fur. Running a hand over his brow, she whispered his name, overcome by emotion.
He shuddered and shifted back to his human form. He clasped her to his bare chest and murmured against her hair. “Are you okay, little owl?”
She touched his wounded cheek, almost sick to her stomach at knowing he could have been badly hurt. Seeing his beauty so damaged cut her to the core. “Your face.”
He offered her a sad smile, flinching as his facial muscles stung. “I’ve had worse. It’ll heal.”
As Gioia remembered how she turned from him during the Marci debacle, she was flooded with remorse. “I’m so sorry for not believing you. I’m sorry I ran.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “You had every right to worry. My history isn’t exactly inspiring.” He looked her right in the eye, his hands on her cheeks. “But I’m telling you, Gioia. You are the only woman for me. Marci was making a play for the old Soren, but he’s gone. I don’t want her. I want you.”
Gunnar chose that moment to appear at their sides. They both welcomed him into their embrace. He leaned into his mom but gave Soren the stink-eye. “Dude,” he said, grimacing. “Put on some pants. You do have a hairy ass.”
They all burst out laughing, and she pulled Gunnar toward her to hug him. She looked over his head at Soren and smiled at her savior. He smiled back, his expression laced with tenderness and sweet need. She watched as Ryland, prepared as ever, handed him a spare pair of track pants. Soren stared at the well-used garment and pulled a face at his brother. “Track pants. Seriously?” He eyed the label but found none. “Who made these? Style-deficient elves? Could you shoot me with that tranquilizer gun now?”
“Don’t tempt me, little brother,” Ryland said, laughing. “I just might.”
Gunnar piped up. “Shoot him in the hairy ass.”
Soren gave him a look. “Watch it kid, I’ve got your number.”
Gioia’s heart swelled at their banter, marveling at her son’s participation in the trash talk. For the first time in a long time, she had a sense of family. Not a family on eggshells, as life had been with Paul, but true stability and honest caring. That’s what she felt with the Snows. Sweet yearning gripped her chest as she watched her lover slip into the old pants. And as the men moved around Wes’ now-human form, Soren looked at her. His gaze was hot and burned with the same longing she felt.
She had a feeling it wouldn’t take long before he rid himself of those borrowed track pants.
Chapter 10
By the end of that day, Soren was at the end of his rope. Not in an angry sense. In a sexual sense. The need to mark and claim Gioia was making him see pink. The pink of her cheek as he scraped his teeth on her soft skin. The pink of her fleshy bottom as he doled out a few love taps. The pink of her swollen lips as he plundered her…
He held a hand to his fevered brow. He needed to get her alone. It was proving difficult.
After the stress of the morning, Gunnar didn’t leave their sides. He couldn’t blame the kid, after almost seeing his mom get mauled by his lust-struck uncle. At least Wes had left. After he’d come to, bewildered and surrounded by Ryland’s security guards, he’d agreed it might be a good idea if he gave Gioia a bit of space. Soren had never been so happy to see someone board the ferry off the island. Pheromone or not, he didn’t want Wes anywhere near his mate.
They’d eaten lunch as a group. Had shared afternoon coffee as a group, with Gunnar opting for a root beer float. They’d shared a tense dinner in the pub together, with Ry and Lia joining the party for good measure. And now, as Ursa Major lit up the dark Northern Ontario sky, Soren was tempted to throw the whole lot of them in the lake and steal Gioia away.
He wanted his mate.
It occurred to him once that perhaps he felt such urgency to mate with her because of the pheromone, but he had quickly dismissed the idea. It was different in his case. Those other men had clearly been driven by blind animal magnetism. Sure, Soren experienced that as well, but he’d retained his head. He could only conclude it was because he was meant to be with Gioia. The pheromone didn’t need to work on him because he already wanted her.
And he would have her tonight.
The timing was actually perfect if one appreciated a sense of romance and atmosphere. This evening, his brother had planned an event for the resort guests: the annual “Set the Lake Ablaze” party. And Soren had made a few preparations of his own.
He’d asked Ry if he could take Gunnar to the event, and his brother had happily obliged. All the resort guests would take up a spot on the lakefront, but Soren had set aside a special spot for Gioia and himself.
“Where are you taking me?” she said on a laugh as he directed her through the woods. He’d placed a velvet blindfold around her eyes, one he happened to keep in his luggage for just such an occasion. She clutched his arm, and he guided her over the pebbled trail, a possessive arm looped around her waist.
/> He whispered in her ear. “Don’t you trust me?”
She licked her bottom lip and smiled. “I probably shouldn’t, but I do.”
The tip of her shoes caught a couple of times on loose rocks, but Soren held her up, maneuvering her easily in the darkness. They had a ways to go. He’d chosen a spot that was nice and remote so they wouldn’t be disturbed.
He took her in as they walked. He liked her in a blindfold; he could stare at her all he wanted. She’d dressed up a bit for him tonight, as much as she could dress up while visiting a country resort, and he appreciated her efforts. Her mane of black curls was tied back away from her face and neck, exposing her soft skin. His cock throbbed at the thought. He couldn’t wait to lick and nibble her skin. Maybe give her a few more hickeys on top of his mark. She was wearing dressy shorts and cute, heeled sandals, a look that made her legs appear about ten feet long. He couldn’t wait to wrap those legs around him. And her top was a silky number with no sleeves. Her nipples were pebbled underneath it, and Soren’s mouth dried out when he remembered trying to coax that sweet inverted nipple out of its shell. He knew it was physically impossible to make the nipple as erect as the other one, but damned if he wouldn’t try again.
She stumbled and let out a nervous giggle, but he righted her and pushed some overgrown branches out of her way so they wouldn’t scratch her skin. “We’re almost there,” he assured her in a quiet voice.
“I should have asked where you were taking me,” she teased. “These heels are not really helpful right now.”
Inspired, Soren stopped in his tracks and held her still. “Then let’s take them off.”
She cocked her head, her voice cracking with obvious desire. “I can’t see with this blindfold.”
He knelt before her, his face so close to her fragrant pussy, and breathed her in. Oh, fuck me! Steeling himself against the need to bury his face between her legs right there, Soren sat her on a nearby log and reached for her ankle. “Let’s take care of this shoe.”
His hands shaking with need, he undid the tiny latch on the sandal and slipped it off her foot. He held it in his hands for a moment, stroking, memorizing its delicate lines. He skimmed his fingers along those sexy high arches that had first mesmerized him and watched her shudder in delight. “You like that?”
“Mmm,” she responded on a whisper.
“How about this?” He lifted her foot, massaging it the whole way. Then, as he’d wanted to do since he first saw her, Soren brushed his lips against her arch.
Gioia gasped. But when he flicked his tongue on her skin, his name fell from her lips in a cry that was half strangled and half exultant.
Good. He’d see to it that she always cried his name like that.
He spent a heady moment sucking on her skin while she writhed in clear sexual agony on the log. And then, as slowly as he could manage it, he disposed of her other shoe and treated her other arch to the same reverent caresses. God help him, he’d never wanted to kiss the feet of any other woman, but Gioia had him reeling. He wanted his scent and his saliva all over his mate, an obvious signal to any other man who dared to look at her.
“You’re mine,” he affirmed, his own voice cracking now. And before she could respond, Soren picked up her heels and gathered her in his arms. Carrying her at a frantic pace, they arrived at their destination.
He put Gioia down, stood behind her, and gently removed her blindfold. “Look.”
She adjusted her glasses on her nose and stared ahead. He walked around so he could see her face. Her mouth twitched as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’d dazzled her. Fucking awesome.
She took a step and whispered, “The lake’s on fire.”
He smiled. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” He’d brought her to a faraway spot on the boardwalk, a location that sat opposite the resort on the lake. The “Set the Lake Ablaze” event was in full swing. Every year during the event, the lodge guests were given little paper boats and candles. They lit the candles and set them in the middle of the boats and let them glide into the lake. By the time each guest had let their boat drift, the lake was covered in hundreds of tiny lights. Soren wasn’t really one for the outdoors, but even he could see the majesty in such a night.
Her lips trembled with awe, and he could see the shiver ripple through her. “Soren, it’s beautiful.”
He placed his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her close, kissing the tip of her nose. “It’s nowhere near being as beautiful as you.”
Awe made her voice hushed. “I don’t know what to say.”
He smiled, his heart pounding out of his chest. “There’s more. Come.” He led her to the edge of the boardwalk. Affixed to the planks was a large floating dock, one Ryland used from time to time for fishing when he wanted to escape the many guests at the lodge. Soren had borrowed it for the evening and had laid out several soft blankets and pillows. He’d surrounded the makeshift floating bed with tea lights. The tiny candles flickered in a lovely counterpoint to the glimmering boats on the lake. The area was sheltered by tall willows, and the graceful branches offered a sort of camouflage to the dock so it wasn’t visible from the lodge. A perfect hideaway.
Gioia stared at the softly glowing refuge and then turned her enamored gaze upon him. She opened her mouth but no words came. She shook her head, clearly at a loss.
“That’s okay, little owl,” he said, drawing her in for the first of many kisses that night. “I wasn’t planning on talking from here on in.”
He smashed his lips against hers, desperate for her taste. Gioia took a breath and whipped off her glasses, setting them on the edge of the dock. Soren picked her up and carried her to the bed of blankets. Setting her on her feet, he immediately set to work on removing her clothing, while she frantically scrambled with the snap and fly on his jeans. He couldn’t get her naked quickly enough. He could swear an evil fisherman had devised the tie on her blouse, it was knotted so intricately. Cursing, Soren almost ripped it from her.
“Here,” she said, smiling. “Let me do it. Just make yourself naked in the meantime.”
He did, in about three seconds flat.
Gioia somehow untied her blouse with her delicate lady fingers and slid it over her head. Soren went to work on her shorts, feeling like a clod as he tried to work the buttons. After what seemed like ages, he slid them over her hips and gaped. She wore the sexiest bra and thong set he’d ever laid eyes on. The cups of the bra were so skimpy and sheer he could see the top curve of her nipple over the edge of satin. And the thong, well, she might as well have left it off because there wasn’t much to it, either.
“Fuck, oh, fuck,” he uttered. Licking his lips, he peeled the bra straps off her shoulders and freed her from the sinful contraption. He eased her to the blankets below and knelt in front of her. Hooking his fingers in the thong elastic, he started to pull it down but was then inspired. Leaving the thong half on and half off, he ordered her, “Turn over.”
Gioia rolled onto her stomach and threw a sly smile over her shoulder. He pulled her onto her knees and dragged her ass closer to his face. Leaning over her, he grabbed at the thong with his teeth, nipping her right in the crack of her sweet bottom. Slowly, he inched the thong over her voluptuous cheeks, letting his nose dip into her divide to tease her. She moaned beneath him, wriggling, but he held her fast. Once the thong was sitting at the seam between her ass and her thighs, Soren flipped her onto her back.
The scrap of satin still covered some of her pussy. Her lips played peek-a-boo with him over the top of the elastic. Dazed and needy, Soren took the dainty fabric in his fingers and stretched it thin, easing it between her wet ruffles. Gioia wailed in ecstasy as he slowly slid the thong along her pussy. He watched, thirsty as all hell, as her juices drenched the fabric.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Soren peeled the thong from her body and replaced it with his mouth. He groaned as he drank her delicious essence for the first time that evening, sure in the knowledge that was exactl
y where he belonged the rest of their lives: between her legs, making her scream. He plunged his tongue into her seam, sucking her lips into his mouth. Her back arched and her hands flailed at her sides, burrowing between the blankets so she could grip the slats of the wooden dock below. When it looked as if she was about to come, when her throat produced those glorious shattered cries, Soren latched onto her clit and inserted three fingers into her core. Curling them inside her, he drank her orgasm, eager not to waste one precious drop of her moisture.
And when her body fell back onto the dock, spent and limp, he caressed her frame and tickled his way up to her breasts. Delirious, he gazed at the offbeat beauty of her irregular nipples and thanked God for sending him such an incredible playground of a woman.
Gioia lay under him, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling. He circled her nipples with his fingers, knowing he’d give her little rest tonight, and watched as she cracked her eyes open.
“What are you doing to me?” she moaned. “It’s too much.”
“It’s not enough,” he answered with a wicked grin. While he twisted the peak of one lovely breast, he sucked on her inverted nipple and absorbed the shock as her body jolted.
That was one powerful nipple.
She clutched at him, burying her fingers in his hair, and he held on for dear life. Milking her, wringing those noises out of her, made him more satisfied than he’d ever been before. He didn’t ever need to come again himself; it was so enjoyable watching Gioia come.
Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t come too. And hard.
“Soren,” she begged, and the fervent timbre of her voice indicated just how close she was to the edge again.
It was time.
Releasing her breast, Soren adjusted his body between her legs, letting his cock explore her tight entrance. He’d fantasized about how she would feel, had dreamed of how his mate would suck him dry, yet the import of the moment made him pause.
He wanted this to be so incredible for her.
She cupped his cheek, already so in tune with him. “It is.” She smiled. “Mark me, Soren. Fuck me, my bear man.”
