Grizzly Promise: A Werebear Shifter Romance (Arcadian Bears Book 4)

by Becca Jameson

  The heat of her pussy against his stomach was impossible to ignore, and it took every ounce of energy he had to keep his torso still instead of rubbing himself against the mattress between her legs. It wouldn’t take much for him to come. The slightest friction would push him right over the edge. But would he scare her?

  When he released her lips to nibble a path to her ear, she tipped her head to accommodate him. “Now, Wyatt,” she murmured.

  “Mmm.” He kept kissing her neck in a line down to her shoulder. When he reached the sweet spot where he would someday bite her, he flicked his tongue over the sensitive thin skin.

  She moaned. “Wyatt, please…” Her voice trailed off, but her hand at the back of his neck squeezed.

  Knowing his limits, he finally pulled back to look down at her again.

  “What are you waiting for?” She squirmed beneath him as much as she could with his body pinning her pussy to the bed. A soft mewl left her lips. Another tug on his head. “I’m rethinking the sex first part. Bite me. Bind and then sex.”

  He shook his head, fighting the urge to laugh at her enthusiasm.

  “Fine. Whatever. Sex and then bind. You pick.” She wiggled her body again, trying to lift her pussy off the bed. Another moan.

  He kissed her nose. “How about neither.”

  She chuckled and rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing out in her next statement. “Sure. Right. There’s an idea.” Her hands grasped at his neck, tugging again. “Get serious. Pants off.”

  He gazed into her eyes, stilling, waiting for her to connect with him. He blocked her from his mind though, not wanting her to see how aroused he was while he told her no. It was incongruent. He realized that. But he didn’t want to risk scaring the hell out of her. Did he even know enough to avoid any possible trigger that might cause her to panic?

  Or maybe he was so fucking scared of hurting her emotionally that he was being a chicken.

  She froze. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  Her fingers tightened. “Wyatt?” Panic made her eyes widen.

  He gripped her head, holding her steady to keep her from misunderstanding him. “Baby…”

  Suddenly she switched from pulling on him to pushing. The heated flush of her cheeks was bright red but no longer caused by arousal. She was embarrassed. And so very wrong.

  “Paige, look at me.”

  Her eyes closed as she sighed. “I get it.”

  “I don’t think you do.” He thumbed her lower lip. “Don’t read anything into my refusal except that I’m so into you that I don’t want you to rush things.” He couldn’t fuck her right now. And he sure as shit couldn’t bind her yet. Her headspace was caused by lust, a lust he was so fucking glad she felt beneath his touch. But he wasn’t going to risk ruining that by rushing the consummation of their relationship—either with sex or with binding.

  Was it killing him? Hell, yes. But he’d gone into this evening knowing he wouldn’t take her, and he needed to keep that in mind in spite of the stiffness of his cock and the way his mind told him to take her. He’d give anything to slide into her wet heat. Anything in the world.

  Except risk her mental stability.

  This was all new to her. She had so many firsts in the last two days. There was no need to rush. “Paige…”

  She didn’t open her eyes. Her lips were pursed.

  “Paige?”

  “Let me go.” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.

  The last thing he could do was hold her down against her will, so he rose off her immediately, freeing her body.

  She wormed her way out from under him, rolled off the side of the bed, and fled to the bathroom.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Paige held it together only long enough to shut the bathroom door behind her and turn on the shower. She didn’t intend to get in it, but she wanted the water to run to cover up her distress. Naked and confused, she slid down the wall next to the shower to sit on the floor. The coolness of the tile against her butt and the glass door of the shower at her back was welcome against the heat of her skin.

  She folded her arms around her knees and drew them up to her chest. The moment she set her forehead against her knees, she berated herself. How stupid could she be? She felt like an idiot. How humiliating. She groaned as she considered the scene—her begging Wyatt to have sex with her and bind to her while he obviously had second thoughts.

  Of course he did. After all, she’d done nothing but lie under him and moan while he played her body like a finely tuned instrument. She hadn’t engaged. She hadn’t done a thing to connect with him. She hadn’t returned the favor.

  She rocked her forehead against her knees. Men would want their women to be a bit more interactive. It hadn’t occurred to her while she’d been so consumed with how good he made her feel that her limbs wouldn’t have responded to any commands from her brain.

  She had no idea how women did it, but of course, they would somehow be more proactive.

  Yeah. She had screwed this up royally.

  And now he had doubts. Could she blame him?

  More importantly, could she fix this? Maybe if she pulled herself together, she could show him she was capable of taking care of him the same way he’d taken care of her.

  A knock on the door made her lift her face.

  “Paige…what’s this about? Talk to me.”

  Deep breaths. She couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. Granted it had only been a few minutes, but how long did she intend to hide? She forced herself to stand and slip into the shower. Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t heard him.

  Two seconds after the spray hit her, the bathroom door opened. “Can I come in? Please?”

  “Yeah.” She had her back to him, but she could feel his gaze on her as strongly as if she’d been watching him look at her. Maybe it was because his mind was open, letting her see his thoughts openly. And what she saw surprised her. She stopped moving, the water cascading down her chest.

  Concern. Passion. Arousal. Fear.

  Nothing that looked anything like what she imagined. Nothing that resembled withdrawal. She spun around, not caring she was naked and he would see her. “You aren’t disappointed.” It wasn’t a question. She could sense he was anything but disappointed.

  He shook his head slowly. “No, babe. Never. Is that what you thought?”

  She opened the door, cutting the barrier between them that was distorting her view and his. The water was at her back now. “I couldn’t see your thoughts. I assumed I let you down. I’m inexperienced. I don’t know what kinds of things I should do for you. I’ll learn. I can do this.” Why did she suddenly feel desperate to prove something to him when yesterday she would have said she never wanted to have sex in her life?

  “Let me down?” His head was shaking again as he approached. His loose pajama bottoms hung low on his hips, but there was no mistaking the bulge in front. “Paige, you could never let me down. Never. You don’t have to do anything for me. It doesn’t work like that.”

  She grabbed the frame of the shower door. “Of course I do. I’m not that innocent.”

  He stood in front of her now, his hand on the open door. His gaze roamed down her body, making her shudder at the smoldering look. “God, you’re gorgeous. I could stand here all day and watch you.” He licked his lips as he lifted his eyes back to meet hers, seemingly shaking his thoughts back to the present. “My fault. I blocked you. You misunderstood what I was thinking.”

  “Okay.”

  “It definitely had nothing to do with your technique.” One corner of his lips lifted in a half-smile, his eyes dancing with just enough teasing to let her know he wasn’t making fun of her. “You read me completely wrong. I didn’t want you to know how fucking hard I was and how badly I needed to be inside you.”

  She flinched, gripping the frame of the door harder. “Then why did you stop?”

  “I was scared, Paige.” He lifted a hand and stroked her wet cheek. “I
don’t want to fuck this up. It feels too soon. I want you to be sure. I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want you to have doubts when we have sex. None. And I can earn that trust. I know I can. If you let me.”

  She swallowed. “You earned it already, Wyatt. You have nothing to prove. You’re stressing me out by forcing me to wait. I’m so hot for you I can’t think straight. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life. It’s like I’m in a permanent state of arousal around you.”

  He pursed his lips as if considering her words.

  “You said yourself that nothing could come between us, and you were right. Nothing can fuck this up. It’s not possible. It’s Fate or something. I see that. I thought you lost sight of it or changed your mind when you turned me down.” She tipped her face into his touch and closed her eyes to breathe in his scent. “Take off your pants and get in this shower with me, Wyatt,” she communicated into his mind. If he told her no again, she might lose it.

  He released her cheek.

  She opened her eyes to watch him lowering his pants and then kicking them off his legs. Finally.

  Not a lie. He scared her. But probably most women were scared the first time they saw a penis. On the flip side, it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as she’d imagine.

  In reality, she’d never seen her attacker’s penis, but the way he’d torn into her made her assume it was about four inches thick and way too long to fit inside any woman.

  In moments of sanity, she was aware that most humans and most shifters had sex. They all seemed to not only enjoy it but love it. There was little chance she would find it as painful as her mind insisted. She’d been too young. Not even fully grown. And certainly not aroused. All she remembered was the white-hot pain of being stretched too far. She’d bled. A lot. The stinging burn had lasted for a few days even though as a shifter she knew she should have healed fast.

  Wyatt didn’t move closer. His fingers were white where he gripped the shower door, the only outward sign he was working hard to let her stare at him and take him in. His thickness grew as she watched, bobbing in front of him.

  When he lifted a hand to fist his length and tipped his head back, his face was hard. His thumb landed over the slit on the tip of his mushroom-shaped head and pressed down. His chest rose and fell. It dawned on her. He was so aroused he couldn’t rein it in.

  Suddenly, she knew what she needed, exactly what would make her more relaxed. She set her hand on his forearm above his thickness and gave a slight pull. “Come inside. Show me.”

  He lowered his head to meet her gaze, confusion furrowing his brow. “Show you…”

  She released his arm to step back. “Yes. In here. Under the spray.”

  He let go of the door to step inside, and the glass shut behind him. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his hand still holding his girth.

  For long moments she thought he didn’t understand what she was requesting, and then his mouth relaxed, and he leaned forward enough to kiss her lips gently under the spray of water. “You want me to show you.”

  “Yes.” I want you to masturbate for me. She didn’t know if he heard her thoughts or just understood her meaning, but in any case, he started stroking his hand up and down the shaft.

  She needed to hide her face, wanting to experience this without him watching her, so she set her forehead on his chest, wrapped her hand loosely around his, and moved with him as he thrust his fist up and down. Every time he reached the base, he slid back up over the head, not quite releasing the tip, but putting enough pressure on it to cause the slit to spread open a bit with every thrust.

  His free hand landed on the back of her neck and gripped. His chin pressed into the top of her head. It was so intimate.

  And she watched, learning, acclimating, relaxing with every passing second. Fascinated. After several passes, he released his length to reach lower, lifting his balls into his palm and rolling them gently. Totally unsure of herself, she didn’t follow his movements with her hand. Instead, she set her fingers on his hip and kept her gaze on his thickness. Thick. Long. But nothing like what she imagined.

  She was damaged, but she could recover. New memories would replace the old. They had to.

  His hand slid back up to circle his shaft, and this time he pumped faster. He reached into her mind. “I’m gonna come, baby. It makes me so hot having you watch like this.”

  “It makes me wet too. My knees are weak. Do it. I want to see.”

  As soon as those words came out of her mouth, he groaned, his chin digging into the top of her head and his hand tightening on her neck. And then he gripped the base tighter and held it while white streams of come squirted out of the tip. It landed on her belly and dripped down her body.

  So hot. So sexy. So exactly what she needed. When he finished, he slowly stroked himself again as the thickness went down only marginally, leaving him still stiff, but not quite as hard. “Thank you,” she told his chest, or maybe his shaft. Her entire body relaxed.

  “You’re welcome.” His voice was no longer strained. It held a bit of mirth as if he thought it funny that she would thank him. His hand slid around to cup her face, lifting her head until their eyes locked.

  When he gently kissed her lips, she leaned into him. “How long do you have to wait until you can do that again? Inside me?” She knew the words were bold, and her face heated, but she also knew exactly what she wanted.

  Wyatt’s hand slid to her butt to haul her against him. The moment his shaft pressed against her belly, it twitched, stiffening instantly. “Does that answer your question?” He lifted a brow.

  She smoothed a hand down his side and wormed it between their bodies so she could circle his length. “Mmm. Impressive.” The two orgasms he’d given her had only managed to embolden her and make her desire more instead of leaving her sated and willing to back off.

  “Let’s get out of the shower. I’m not having sex with you for the first time standing up.” He flipped off the water and opened the door. Two seconds later he had a towel in his hand and proceeded to dry her off, ignoring his own dripping body where he stood on the bath mat.

  She stood mesmerized while he took care of her, patting her skin from head to toe until he was satisfied, and then he rubbed his own body down with the same towel. Something about the normal, everyday action was erotic and intimate.

  When he was finished, he dropped the towel on the counter and took her hand. His gaze roamed up and down her body, heating it with just a look. His chest rose and fell while he licked his lips. His eyes were dilated when they returned to hers. He backed them out of the room, holding both her hands, never removing his gaze from hers.

  It seemed as though she would melt before they got to the bed. Her already needy body was on fire, tingles racing up her spine, her knees growing weak, her sex wet and swollen.

  The sound of a phone vibrating on the bedside table jerked her out of what had become a trance. Though Wyatt gave no sign of having heard the phone as it stopped ringing, when it happened again coming from the other side of the bed, he slowly closed his eyes and groaned. “Shit.”

  “I think somebody needs us,” she murmured unnecessarily. There weren’t too many people who had both their numbers, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that both of them were getting an incoming call one after the other.

  They didn’t move while the vibrating ceased. Paige held her breath, hoping neither phone would ring again, knowing Wyatt was doing the same thing. But no such luck. Five seconds after his stopped ringing, hers started again. She released one of his hands with a sigh and reached over to grab her cell. The screen read Gavin Calling.

  She tapped the phone to respond. “Gavin?”

  “Oh, thank God. We thought we were going to arrive at your door before I could get ahold of you.”

  We? “What’s the matter?” She could hear the urgency in his voice. And who was he with? She lifted her gaze toward Wyatt and tipped the phone out a few inches to engage the speaker so Wyatt could hear.
<
br />   “There’s a problem. We’re on our way to your house. I mean Wyatt’s. Whatever. I was hoping to give you the heads up so you’d know we were coming.”

  “Gavin, what’s going on? And who are you with? It’s late.”

  “Dale. It’s a long story, but it can’t wait. We’ll be there in ten minutes.” Gavin ended the call before she could respond. She lowered the phone.

  Wyatt groaned, rolling his neck from one side to the other. “This can’t be good.” He let his eyes close and tipped his head back. “I guess we should get dressed.”

  “Sounds like it.” Her hands were suddenly cold, and the urgency she’d felt to have sex fled in an instant. She dropped Wyatt’s hand and spun around to grab her PJ’s.

  As soon as she had the shorts in her hand, Wyatt plucked them right back and dropped them on the bed. “Woman, are you crazy?”

  For a second she didn’t know what he was talking about, but when she lifted her gaze from the shorts to Wyatt’s face, she found his brows lifted, his eyes wide. Right. Perhaps she needed more clothes before they greeted Gavin and Dale at the door. Though, again, she wanted to argue that neither man would be ogling her body.

  Instead, she grabbed a pair of yoga pants, not bothering with panties, and snagged Wyatt’s sweatshirt from yesterday off the end of the bed too. When she had both pieces of clothing on, his sweatshirt hanging past her butt and the sleeves rolled up so her hands weren’t trapped, she found Wyatt in low-hanging jeans and a white T-shirt.

  He stalked toward her, grabbed her hips, and pressed his front against hers from hips to shoulders. His lips landed on hers for a brief kiss before he whispered against her mouth. “You realize I’m going to have a difficult time chatting with Dale and Gavin, knowing you’re naked under my shirt and not wearing panties.”

  She responded in the same tone against his lips. “You realize this obsession you have with what I’m wearing is borderline crazy.”