by Elsa Jade
She brought herself closer again, tight against his massive bulk. She could get used to this, riding her bear into a battle for their shared pleasure. No witch could ever dream of more.
She pulled away from him again, and again sank close, pulsing the water between their bodies, stoking their hunger higher. She reached down between them, feeling the thick shaft against her core, with her even wetter than the lake itself, and nudged the blunt head against her opening.
He groaned. “I’m so close, Rita. If you want me to—”
“I do,” she moaned back. “If you want you to.”
And still he resisted the need twisting between them—not to mention her insistent tug on his cock. “I meant, I can just do for myself what I did for you.”
“You’re very big hands are very nice,” she said. “If you’d rather—”
He groaned again. “No, by the great bear, no. I’d always rather it was you.”
“Then do it,” she urged. “Do me.”
His groan this time was more a growl. “I want to bite you.”
The thrill that shot through her somehow went deeper even than the needy throb between her legs. It couldn’t mean anything, not when this wasn’t the mating season, and he didn’t even have his bear. But the thought of his teeth against her flesh, the magic that was breath and blood and trust binding them together, almost made her come again.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Let me feel this until the morning light.”
She’d experimented in high school, of course, and a bit more in college, but she’d never had a chance to find someone she connected with enough to go all the way. Plus, playing older sister to Brandy and Gin—not to mention living in the same shared space for most of their lives—hadn’t exactly been conducive to torrid affairs. Joining the circle had given her opportunities for other sorts of experimentation, but she knew, even if she’d been the wildest party child ever she’d never have had a chance with someone like Thor. His name alone excluded all lesser males, and if he didn’t actually need the muscles of a demi-god considering she wasn’t that big—well, she’d dream of this encounter long after the moon set.
Between the water, his strong arms, and the post-orgasmic bliss still fizzing in her veins, she thought she might float away. But when he angled his hips and surged into her body one slick stroke, all her focus came back to this moment, this male, this magic. For all his imposing size—everywhere—her body yielded to his slow, sensual invasion. At the same time, muscles she hadn’t realized were strong in their own way gripped him in a relentless bear hug. It was a perfect balance, she realized with wonder. His push, her hold. Their bodies like pieces of a puzzle fitting together, like elements of a spell perfectly aligned. Each of them strong, contained, but somehow more together. The powerful surge and retreat of his thrust into her rocked the water around them in wild spurts that did nothing to cool her heated skin, but it was tidal wave building in her blood that made her clutch at his shoulders and moan his name.
“I need this,” she gasped. “Give it to me.”
“I might be only half of what I was,” he rasped, “but what I have is yours. Take it. Take it all.”
A wild urge to laugh welled up in her, joyous, inappropriate, and freer maybe than she’d ever felt before. “If there was any more to you I’d be so screwed.”
“Oh, very definitely.”
The lethal promise in his voice sent a delighted shiver through her, deeper and darker than the currents under Lake Angel. She met him thrust for thrust, grinding her hips into his, finding the perfect pressure and tenderly aching abrasion that urged her ever higher. “Oh, Thor,” she breathed. “I’m so close.”
The bubbles of pleasure in her blood gathered, swirling and combining, as if a thousand stars had fallen out of the sky to string themselves along her quivering nerves, dancing in their orbit to his magical touch. She arched up into him, stroking herself greedily on his hard, hot shaft. She’d never been greedy before. She was always the practical one, helpful, careful, always giving her best. But now… “More,” she gasped. “I want more.”
With a growl so low it made the water around them ripple outward in ever-expanding circles, he heaved against her, and for a moment, his mighty rhythm was broken. And somehow, that touched her more deeply than every powerful thrust. He felt it too, was shuddering at the unexpected ferocity of this thing between them.
Meaning his penis, of course. It reached past all her sensibilities, past all the little lies she told herself about how she was the good girl, the sensible sister, just one of the weird unwanted Wicks. The tremor started deep in her core, fiercer than anything she’d ever felt, and she clung to him as all the strength she prided herself on seemed to tighten inward, leaving her legs shaking so hard she would’ve fallen if she wasn’t floating.
He held her close, his head bowed around hers.
And he bit her nape, hard.
In a white-hot burst, the tension unfurled through her, igniting in her veins and rushing to all her extremities. With a strangled cry, she clamped down on every part of him.
Including her own teeth in the taut muscle of his pec.
He threw back his head with a choked roar, his body going so still for a heartbeat that they sank deeper into the water, and she realized how he’d been holding them aloft with his paddling under the surface. Duck duck bear… Usually it was her doing all the work where no one could see. To discover that he’d kept them from drowning while she took her pleasure from him sent another sweeter spurt of delight through her. But even as she hazily wondered how long she could hold her breath—not long considering how fast her heart was beating—he churned his hips into hers for a few more leisurely strokes, raising them up through the water.
She realized her teeth were still smashed against his chest and finally lifted her head with a bone-deep sigh. As she did, the back of her neck twinged where he’d bitten her. It was a luxurious ache, like eating too much cake and not caring at all. She stretched against him, a full-body clench and release that made him groan again.
As he exhaled roughly, they sank in the water until he inhaled, bobbing them up like bathtub toys. “Was that enough?” he rumbled.
She reached up to spear her fingers into the ragged locks of his black hair. “That was everything.”
He grunted a laugh, the loss of air in his lungs bobbing them downward again. But this time, with one great heave, he lifted them both out of the water and deposited her backside on the dock. His discarded cargo pants cushioned her, and when he loomed over her on all fours, pressing her back, the damp, age-softened wood of the dock yielded under her spine.
He stared down at her, dark eyes glittering even though the moon was behind him. “Not everything,” he drawled.
She grinned up at him. “Not innocent,” she reminded him. “And now not a virgin.” When he backed away from her, she pushed herself up onto her elbows to frown after him. “Thor…”
“We have all night, yeah?” His smile brightened with a flash of teeth that sent a shiver through her bones as he dropped that dark head and those bright teeth between her spread thighs. “Let’s see how not innocent,” he murmured.
She splayed herself out on the dock, spreading her arms to the night and her legs to his hungry mouth, and if the stars above seemed to whirl faster…
Well, she’d blame it on the bear.
Chapter 9
She woke alone in the cabin’s small bedroom. Maybe the whole thing had been a dream…
Lolling her head to one side, she inhaled the scent of pine and sunlight and river water. And Thor.
Magic didn’t actually make dreams come true, but damn if it hadn’t seemed like it last night.
She stretched, and her muscles pinged back with mild complaints. Everything had been more than she’d known. So much for not innocent.
But at least last night’s marathon meant she didn’t need pushups and crunches this morning. The real ache was lower down, hidden. She wasn’t sure when s
he’d get to use those muscles again…
Shaking off the glum thought, she rose and dressed in clothes still slightly damp from the night before then fluffed at her hair futilely. What had happened to her sleek bob? The combination of desert dust and lake water and wild lovemaking had unearthed heretofore unknown curls and she had no idea what to do with them.
Cracking the bedroom door, she peered out into the quiet cabin. No Thor. Well, she couldn’t do a walk of shame all the way back to town. The living area was empty, but on the kitchen table, the love spell rose still bloomed. And next to it was a mug and a stainless steel coffee press—contents still warm, blessed be—and some sort of homemade breakfast bar chunked with nuts and pieces of dried fruit. Cranberries, she guessed. She scooped up the goods and headed out the breezeway.
After a quick stop at the bathroom, she continued on around the house. The cabin was such a cool, quiet den she hadn’t realized it was already midmorning. Sunlight sparkled on the lake, turning last night’s mysterious midnight blue spangled with stars into a brilliant mirror of the sky reflecting a million tiny suns on each ripple.
Against that brilliance, Thor was a dark shape on the dock.
He stood straight, hands clasped loosely at his back, staring out at the water. Her steps—already slow from balancing all her weight on one crutch and her breakfast burden in her free hand—faltered.
Was he avoiding her? Did he regret their night together? Was he thinking of escaping via a swim of shame?
He glanced over his shoulder and instantly pivoted to hasten toward her. “You’re awake,” he said, stating the obvious with no welcoming smile but his dark eyes intense, searching.
Yeah, awkward. “Not until I’ve had this coffee,” she said, angling away from him when he reached out to take her juggled items. “Coffee, mine. The rose is yours.”
His hand hovered over the flask. “I forgot.”
She tilted her head. How could he forget the reason they’d been up here on the mesa?
“Take it,” she urged.
After a hesitation long enough that she almost repeated her command, he reached out and took everything from her. “Come sit down and wake up with your coffee. We’ll head into town when you’re done.”
She followed him the short length of the dock to the rail seat at the end. The slanting morning sunlight warmed half her face but the side in shadow was still cool. Mesa Diablo was a mystery hidden in a contradiction, even with its temperatures. When she’d settled herself, Thor handed back her mug and breakfast bar with grave courtesy. The flask he kept, cradled in his big hand.
The balance of light and shadow through the crystal gave the silver-touched rose an even more otherworldly air. With one fingertip, he traced the parabola of a petal pressed against the glass, and for some reason, the gesture sent a tingle down her spine.
“Last night…” he murmured. “It all seems like a dream.”
“It seemed that way to me too,” she murmured back. “Since I woke up by myself.” She took a deliberate sip of her coffee, eyeing him meaningfully over the rim.
He looked down at the rose in his hand. “You were still sleeping so hard. I didn’t want to bother you.”
She huffed under her breath, ostensibly to cool the coffee. “Couldn’t sleep because you were thinking about how to remind me this was one night only,” she needled.
He slanted a glance at her. “Couldn’t keep sleeping because you were snoring.” When she sputtered, he added, “Because you were so tired from all your hard work on the spell, I’m sure.”
“From all the hard sex,” she snarked back.
To her surprise the rich hue of his skin darkened more with a flush of blood in his cheeks. “That wasn’t just a dream. That was a magical fantasy come to life.”
The rush of pleasure that washed through her like one of the brilliant ripples across the lake heated her own face. And other parts of her too. “Well, it was that for me too.”
Despite his blush, his gaze stayed serious. “But it can only be one night.”
“I told you that.” The sweet-tart pieces of cranberry stuck dry and sour in her throat. “Until morning light, I said.”
As if she hadn’t spoken, he continued, “The rex ursi doesn’t leave room for anything else.”
If she’d been the dramatic type, she would’ve tossed the coffee in his face. It was cool enough now it wouldn’t have hurt him, really. But she wasn’t inclined to waste caffeine or her own cool.
“Thor.” She put her hand on the white knuckles of his fingers clenched around the flask. Good thing the crystal was too thick to shatter. Whether from her sharp tone or her gentle touch, he fell mercifully silent.
“Rita,” he said finally.
“Not innocent, not a virgin, and not ever a hopeless romantic,” she told him. “Last night was a magical fantasy. But…you of all people know that nothing silver can stay, and I know that magic is a hell of a lot of work.” She smiled up at him. “We’re both busy people with a lot on our minds, and maybe we were a little bit lonely and a lot horny”—she waggled her eyebrows at him when he made a choked noise—“and the moonlight was beautiful. It can be just that, and that was enough.”
Oh my God. She’d never sounded more sensible or boring in her entire life. But the only thing more embarrassing than being the weird Wick sister would be the weeping whiner Wick, so she was gonna be the tough one here.
And yet she held her breath until he nodded, a little stiffly. “You’re right. It was just a touch of magic and moon madness. Still, it was good to share it with you.”
She dredged up another smile. “And I’m glad I could help the Four Corners bear clan, for my sisters’ sake and yours.” She gulped down the last of the coffee. “Just keep that rose with you, and this will all end happily.”
His dark eyes stayed fixed on her. “Happily ever after. Just like the fairy tales.”
She chuckled. “Except the handsome prince turns into the beast.”
“And the witch isn’t so wicked.”
“Oh, hey now. We prefer the term alternative morality with poor public relations management.” She licked the last of the breakfast bar off her fingers and handed him the empty mug before pushing to her feet. He scrambled after her as she headed up the dock. “Call me before the last petal falls off the rose. It shouldn’t come to that, but every spell has its own time.”
“I’m sure I’ll see you around before then,” he said, matching her short strides up the slope to the cabin. “Between your sisters and my cousins and nephew, you’re part of our circle now.”
She focused on each step with more attention than she really needed. “I have my own circle,” she said. “And it doesn’t need a king.”
Apparently she was focused too much on his steps too, because she noticed when he faltered just a little.
“Right,” he said with a bit of a snap in his voice. “I didn’t mean to take over—”
She lifted one hand just long enough to wave off his explanation. “I know you can’t help it. You’re just a big, bossy bear.”
“I wish,” he muttered.
She hurried toward the house to cut the rest of the awkward conversation short. Shouldn’t a king be better at awkward conversations? Although she was going to lead the circle someday, and apparently she was no better. Maybe she just needed more practice.
Not that one-night stands with shapeshifting king bears were going to be a regular part of her life in Angels Rest.
Too bad.
In the cabin, she straightened up the few things that they’d disarranged and cleaned her coffee cup. “The bedroom…”
Was that another flush on his cheeks? “I’ll take care of it after I take you back to town.”
His bike was parked a short distance from the cabin, and they had to go a little farther to reach a rough dirt track. As they walked, Thor handled the big Harley like it was the gearless Schwinn she’d cruised around the quiet neighborhoods where she’d grown up before she got
too busy with her studies for the circle. That power was undeniable when he had her hop on behind him after strapping a helmet to her head and her crutches to the side of the bike. Her legs stretched around his hips in a blatant reminder of the previous night.
Until the morning sunlight, she told him. But even in the harsh, bright, clear light of day, she wanted more.
“Hold on tight,” he rumbled. “It gets a little rough.”
Oh, didn’t she know it.
The roar of the engine meant she didn’t have to answer and gave her a reasonable excuse for threading her arms around his waist. The bump and jostle was worse than he’d hinted, but she found herself balancing easily against him. Maybe it was true what they said about riding a bike.
Riding a bear would stick in her memories even longer.
As they left the lake and the ponderosas behind them, along with the shortening shadow of the mesa, the heat of the high desert plateau rose. Despite the wind of their passage, a thin trickle of sweat traced down between her breasts. Or maybe that was just because she was smashed against his hot body.
The streets of town were mostly empty, everyone already at work or hiding themselves away from the sun. As rides of shame went, this was either one of the worst or the best.
When he pulled up in front of the old Victorian, the yellow VW bus was already gone, the old house shut up tight against the day’s heat. Suddenly, the thought of holing herself up in the basement spellatorium—usually one of her favorite places—held no appeal.
But that was the life she’d been born to, the way she’d chosen.
Slipping off the back of the bike before Thor could even put down the kickstand, she released her crutches. She shook her messenger bag into place at her side and settled the heavy cuffs around her forearms. “Thanks for the ride,” she said brightly. Almost as bright as the sun.
