Cabin Bear Heat Box Set: A Paranormal Fantasy Bear Shifter Romance (A Bear Shifter Romance Retelling of the Billionaire Redemption Series Book 2)

by Love-Wins, Bella

  He pulled out almost the whole way and re-entered her only a bit, just barely breaching the ring of her soft muscles as they tightened around his shaft. He flexed his knees and thrust inside again. She rotated her pelvis as he did, changing the angle, and allowing him a greater and more fulfilling space to occupy.

  “Andrew…,” she whimpered.

  He pulled back halfway within her soft, tight folds, loving her reaction as she bucked her hips wildly. His thick cock stroked her inner walls. It felt totally foreign to all the other times they had made love.

  This gets better every time.

  She was a perfect fit for his body.

  “Oh, fuck!” she cried out. Her words came out so abruptly, he jolted. He was usually so much more aware of when she was about to come, and this time, she fluttered and contracted against his hardness in a thoroughly new way. God, she felt amazing. Andrew tried to stay in control but couldn’t—as he pulled his cock back out and slammed it inside her twice, his will gave way. He came. She relaxed her back and loosened her hold on his waist when he flooded her womb.

  Lowering his head to her shoulder, he let the pleasure take hold of his body, but kept her safely pinned against the wall. Abby may have been satiated a minute ago, but she was ready to go again. He saw her shoulders brace against on the wall behind her, pushing herself back for added friction.

  His body responded quickly to her. She gripped onto him again and rocked her hips on his almost ready cock, helping him along, he gathered. It was gentle, just enough to get them both aroused again. He loved that she wasn’t the passive type, and took such an energetic role during their erotic play. He felt her knees spread wider. It intensified the contact between his lower stomach and her clit. It was enough to bring him back to a full erection.

  Working a hand under her ass, he half-supported her. With the other hand, he took both her wrists from his shoulders and lifted them over her head, pinning them to the wall. This position lifted her breasts within reach of his mouth. He loved every inch of her body, and moaned as his tongue made contact with her nipples. He circled each one, nipping teasingly at each peak. She groaned and seemed to wriggle her wrists for more control. This time, he wasn’t ready to let her have her way.

  “Trust me, Abby,” he whispered. “I’ll take good care of that sweet pussy of yours.”

  With his cock repeatedly burying into her, and his lips tugging on her breast, he was dangerously close to coming again. If she didn’t find her orgasm soon, he was going to come way too quickly.

  He knew he had hung in there just long enough when she lifted her hips, pushed her clit up against him, and ground her mound down the base of his cock. Her channel fluttered and soaked his cock. The sensation was so powerful, he jolted for one more deep lunge and filled her completely with his release. He hung on to her, and she to him, joined so deeply, he couldn’t feel where he ended and she began.

  Their session against the wall was not meant to end there, it seemed. After a few minutes, he felt her take his ear between her lips and her hips writhed on him again.

  “More,” she whispered.

  He released her arms and licked a trail up her throat, relishing her taste as he let his arousal build up again. His balls and upper thighs were dripping with their joint releases by then, and the air conditioned environment cooled him there, a sharp contrast to the heat inside her. She bit on his ear lobes playfully, and in no time, his cock stood at attention within her.

  “Don’t stop,” she told him.

  He picked up his pace, pounding into her channel as she begged him to fuck her harder. Shifting his weight from one leg to another, he gained a whole new angle in which to impale this beautiful creature in his arms.

  “I’m gonna come again, baby…”

  Her climax was music to his ears, and soon his own followed as her moans pushed him over the edge for a third time. He moved wildly, and her orgasm seemed to reach a new summit, clenching, shaking and vibrating around his manhood. He erupted at the sensation, moving eagerly. She shrieked, and he was certain if anyone was passing by their door now, they would hear. It didn’t matter at all to him. He loved her cries of pleasure, and the sounds of slapping flesh surrounding them as he finished.

  She pressed her cheek to his and smiled.

  “Sorry,” she said between pants.

  “For what?”

  She looked down between their bodies. “I was the one who begged for rough and dirty, wasn’t I?”

  He laughed and carried her to bed. She never failed to surprise him.

  Chapter Six

  ABBY woke up in the middle of the night. Andrew was asleep, resting peacefully. She got up and went into the bathroom.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  She smiled. Something about the man sleeping in that bed turned her into a person she did not know. She loved it. His touch alone made her shiver. In fact, he didn’t even need to touch her at all, and she was needy and hyper-aroused around him. In a matter of days, she had gone from being able to do without sex for months and months, to wanting him almost every waking moment. She had become a raging animal chock-full of sexual need, and now, she wasn’t sure she could do without their physical closeness.

  When she and the others had driven back to San Francisco, she knew she would miss him. But back then—and that then was only twenty-four hours ago—she was certain she could survive at least a few weeks without him. She imagined they would text each other, send each other emails, talk on the phone, maybe even a bit of phone sex and a few sexting rendezvous episodes, so the weeks could go by between visits. After tonight, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

  She enjoyed his company, even without the sex. Her mind and body were bonding to Andrew at their deepest levels. She hoped he felt the same way. She had a strong sense that he did. He had asked her to be his. She felt it in her heart—she was all his. There was just still so much more she wanted to know about him, and to share with him about herself. That was one of the things about moving quickly and having such a strong physical attraction to each other—there was never enough time to talk.

  She considered the possibility of forcing a longer separation the next time they were apart. He would eventually go back to Lake Tahoe, and she had her placements that were starting the next week. Maybe she could ask him to wait a couple weeks before they saw each other again. That time apart might be good for the both of them.

  Who am I kidding?

  There’s no way I can do without him for two weeks.

  She sighed, wondering if that was such a bad thing.

  She wouldn’t dare mention the ‘L’ word. Deep down though, she already loved him. Even so, she was happy to wait until that word came from his lips first. It was one of the pieces of sage advice Abby’s mother had given her in her final days. Thinking back, she remembered rolling her eyes when her mom doled out her wisdom about love and romance. She told Abby she would know when it was the right guy. He would pursue her, and protect her. Her mother said the pursuit was the only way for a woman to be sure a man had serious intentions. She also told her the man had to say that word first.

  It was funny—not only did Abby roll her eyes, she had also told her mother that her premise of love sounded antiquated, sexist and not fit for a woman in the twenty-first century. Her mother had shaken her head weakly, and told Abby, “You’ll see I’m right, and you’ll have to take back all your doubtful words, Abby, but by then, I’ll be gone.”

  A tear fell from Abby’s eyes. She looked at herself in Andrew’s bathroom mirror. Her mother had been right about so many things. That time had come, and was playing out with Andrew, just as she had told her. She washed her face, and dried it off on a hand towel before going back to bed. She silently wished her mother could be there to tell her she had been right. Letting out a labored breath, she headed back to bed.

  Andrew was still asleep when she climbed in under the sheets beside him. As he had mentioned he was a light sleeper, and probably needed the rest
, she didn’t wake him. Instead, she looked at his sharp, handsome features in the light coming in from outside. His eyes rolled under his eyelids. He was in REM sleep, and probably dreaming. She closed her eyes as her tiredness came over her, and slept.

  ***

  ANDREW turned in his sleep. He remembered Abby was beside him. It had been so long since he had had a ruinous nightmare. He wasn’t sure how long it would last before the next one came, but he was grateful for every day that passed. He remembered the last one he had. It was so vivid, he had sat up in bed, opened his eyes, and felt he was still living through it. His body had been shivering from a cold sweat, and his throat was raspy and almost hoarse from screaming Emma’s name.

  If ever there was a time for these nightmares to end, it was now. He couldn’t bear the thought of having Abby even conceive of the pain those dreams produced. He briefly considered seeing a therapist again. Now that some time had passed. He would be around Abby a lot, so he could try again. It was a much better proposition, to deal with it proactively instead of forcing some of the grief on to Abby. She didn’t need it, she didn’t deserve it, and she had her own problems to deal with, as far as he was concerned.

  He got up and went to the bathroom. Abby was still asleep when he came back. He crawled in to bed on his side, kissed her forehead, and settled in. They both had things to do the next day, so he did not disturb her restful sleep. He lay on his back with his arms folded under his head, looking up at the ceiling, aware that he was not tired enough to drift back to sleep.

  Trying to relax was not helping and was sure to become one of those self-fulfilling prophecies. Whenever he wished so hard for the nightmares not to come, that was exactly when they would. He decided if he had to, he would stay up the rest of the night. His mind drifted to one of the more difficult memories. Like most people who had been to trauma, there was a part of the mind that seemed to block out some of the worst elements of the bad experience, simply to protect the person from truly reliving the experience. It was no different for him.

  No matter what point the dream started at, it would always end the same way, and it would always block out the most violent milliseconds. It would end where his attention shifted from bewilderment over his bleeding, near-severed arm. The reel of his mind would seem to race forward to where he was screaming, demanding that the female paramedic help Emma and the other driver, instead of him.

  My arm can wait!

  I don’t need this arm!

  Save her!

  Do something about Emma!

  In his dream, they couldn’t hear him. He had lost his voice. She only attended to him in his dream, as though Emma and the other driver were invisible. He would wake up screaming her name as the life drained out of her.

  Sometimes, the dream would be his complete fixation on the blood as it dripped out of his arm, and the dangling flesh that hung below his elbow. That crimson pool that spread out on the ice beneath his feet. It would leave him dazed and paralyzed. He had been awe-struck by his arm for way too long. As far as he was concerned, that loss of time was what caused two fatalities that night.

  This was why he didn’t care when the outside world wanted to place the blame squarely on his shoulders. In fact, he went along with it. He believed them. He agreed with them. It was all his fault, and that was something that he would never be able to shirk. No therapy could be that good, to make him feel it was an accident and his shock was legitimate. His state of shock after that accident killed two people. He would never stop blaming himself for it.

  He got out of bed and threw a robe on before heading to the kitchen for something to drink. He was so angry at himself.

  Why?

  He would never stop asking why. He could drop to his knees with his fists to the heavens right there in the kitchen. He could swear and hit something too, except Abby was in the next room. He had to keep it under control. The only thing that actually helped him with this level of frustration was letting is animal out. That was not possible here in San Francisco. After his drink, he walked to the guest room at the other end of his hotel suite. He was sure the nightmares would come. After letting this wayward line of thinking go rampant for so long tonight, there was no way he was going to have one beside Abby.

  Chapter Seven

  ANDREW woke up at the crack of dawn. He could barely sleep the rest of the night. His restless mind and body tossed and turned for hours. He woke up in a cold sweat twice before. Sighing heavily, he put his robe back on. He went back to his room to wake Abby. She was sitting up, reading messages on her phone when he got there.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Good morning, Abby. Had a nice sleep?”

  “Excellent. How about you?”

  He hesitated. “Not too bad.”

  “Do you have trouble sleeping a lot?” She got off the bed to snuggle in his arms.

  He stiffened up for a split second. The woman was direct. He didn’t know how to answer, without getting into the details of Emma.

  “Sometimes,” he answered briefly.

  She looked up at him, and caressed the side of his face with one hand. “I’m a good listener, you know? You can tell me anything. Remember, I may be young, but I’ve seen a lot. Sometimes, it feels better after you share.”

  He held her close, but didn’t reply. He was not ready, but appreciated her effort.

  “Are you hungry?” He finally mustered.

  “Starving. But you know what I need more?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Two things, really. I’ll let you in on the first one.”

  “What might that be?”

  She pushed the robe off his shoulders. “First, a heaping dose of Andrew all over me.”

  He smiled, letting the robe fall. He pulled her tight into his arms and fell back into bed with her. She pulled at him and let him roll on top. Abby stretched out, opening her legs as his fingers danced across her face. She was naked underneath him. A morning quickie—that was what she wanted. This morning, he was ready to deliver.

  He shifted over to relax beside her and slid his hand down her stomach. His fingers caressed lower and she moaned, anticipating the coming pleasure. His thick, strong digits went to work. Doing the things only he could do to her was worth a little lost sleep. He found her clit and circled the sensitive flesh with a delicate pressure of his fingertips. Caressing the nub between his thumb and forefinger, he tease her, moving in a rhythm he was looking forward to re-creating with his member.

  She moaned again. He moved lower still, and caressed her folds. Abby begged him to enter her, writing around on the bed to get his hand in the right position. Chuckling, he kept up the torture, building her need. If this was a quickie, they had a difference of opinion on what it meant. He returned to her clit. She panted and whimpered as he built the tension. Slipping back to her slit, he plunged a finger inside, curving it to stroke and massage her inner walls. She bucked her hips, finally getting in the moment, moaning through her pleasure, eyes closed and seeming to love what Andrew was giving to her.

  He eased another finger inside and she groaned, tilting her pelvis up, taking him in even more. She looked at him for a moment, with pure desire in her eyes as he stroked in her, meeting every thrust of his fingers with a lift of her own.

  “Andrew…” she cried through her first peak, legs shaking uncontrollably. Abby called his name again.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “Your. Cock. Now.” She ground out through clenched teeth.

  “Get on top,” he whispered.

  Abby opened her eyes, turning onto her side to smile at him after she could move again. He learned quickly. This was her favorite position. She peeked playfully under the sheets, staring at his erect cock with eagerness. Without waiting, Andrew threw the covers back, grabbed her at the waist and lifted her on top, pulling each leg to his side.

  “How do you want this?” he asked her.

  “Slow and deep, baby.” She rocked her hot center on th
is stomach, and leaned forward to kiss his mouth, his eyes, his throat, and moved down his body to press her lips on his chest, his belly. She mouthed the words “thank you” and he almost burst out laughing. She took his cock in her hand and stroked him, and he swelled even further. She pumped him until he was close to climax, building up his need as much as he had done to her a few minutes before. No matter what, they were going to come together. He promised himself.

  She moved up his body again, and when she was back to where she needed to be, she lifted one leg until his hardness was poised right beneath her folds. Slowly, she lowered onto him. Achingly slow. It must have been payback. He could tease her, so she definitely could tease him back. He chalked it up to fair play and let her have her moment.

  He was firmly seated deep inside her, and she did it again, lifting off slowly, until Andrew could not wait any longer. Pressing one hand firmly onto her ass and reaching the other up to the back of her neck, he pulled her in tight and moved deeper inside her. He rocked her back and forth, and felt his cockhead hit yet another depth in her core. Her clit rubbed against his girth. She was coming again. Andrew roared as she rode him harder and faster. It was an incoherent noise—even for him—borne of pure thwarted desire. His cock throbbed against her tight channel. Abby shivered. Her body shook as wave after wave of pleasure spiraled out from where their bodies were joined, tightening around his cock each time she came.

  “Please come with me, Andrew,” she begged, panting out her request. No sweeter words had ever been spoken.

  Abby lowered to his chest, holding on to him around his neck. He gripped her hips and lifted her up and down, forward and backward. Abby got right back into it when she caught her breath, lifting off him again, grinding her hips down against his groin. He looked between their bodies. They were complete, connected, one.