Gambling on Her Bear

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Gambling on Her Bear Page 8

by Anna Lowe


  But she’d had it with being her own. She wanted to be his. To let him consume her. Mark her. Claim her. She wanted to be part of a bonded twosome rather than the occasional one-plus-one. Even if it was only for tonight.

  Not just for tonight, her dragon rumbled. Forever.

  His body language all but screamed, My woman, and hers echoed the emotion back to him. Every rough scrape of his stubble over her cheek, every touch of his big hands wound her higher as he marked her with his scent.

  I’m all yours, she told him through little gestures and touches. The message was coded into the way she rolled her head to the side, into the way she surrendered to his tongue, into the way she wound her leg around his.

  His hips pushed against hers, and she climbed his leg like a boa.

  “Here,” he panted, hitching her leg higher. A second later, she was moaning incomprehensibly.

  Jesus, they were moving fast, but once the tidal wave of lust hit her, there was nothing to do but try to ride it out.

  Not lust, her dragon corrected. Love. This is my mate.

  “Mate?” she whispered, then winced. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  Tanner’s eyes shone with a deep, intense light, and he nodded. “Mate,” he whispered back.

  For a moment, she got lost there, gazing into his eyes as if they weren’t two glassy points of light but crystal balls full of swirling mist that veiled her future. Then his mouth cracked open, and she dropped her head for another kiss. And another, and another, until the motion of him carrying her up the stairs rocked them apart.

  “That one,” she murmured, pointing to the door he nearly carried her past.

  Tanner shoved it open with a foot then shouldered it shut without letting her go. From the looks of it, he might never let her go, and she was just fine with that.

  She sniffed around his neck as he slid his hands lower, pushing her dress up and spreading her legs wider. Which was perfect, except for one thing.

  “Too many layers,” she mumbled, loosening her grip around his waist.

  “Too many layers,” he agreed.

  Blue neon lights washed in from outside the windows, framing Tanner in a smoky glow. A group of tourists walked down the alley one story down, and a laugh rang out.

  Tanner splayed one big hand over her ribs while running the knuckles of the other over the front of her dress.

  “Too many buttons.”

  She shook her head. “Just enough buttons, I think.”

  “Just enough for what?” The look he gave her was so dirty, so scorching, she wavered the slightest bit.

  “Enough to make this fun,” she shot back. “I can always start if you want.” She reached for the button of his jeans.

  A deep, dangerous rumble sounded in his chest, and for a moment, she thought he’d pounce.

  “Start where?” His voice was low and rumbly, like thunder behind a mountain ridge.

  “Right about here,” she whispered, popping the button. She ran a finger up the line of the zipper next, teasing him, then cupped him with one hand. A hand that was nowhere near big enough to hold all of what was straining that denim.

  Just as she started to wonder why Tanner would let her take the lead, the answer came to her. A man with such intensity would have easily dominated every woman he’d ever touched. Maybe having her lead was a novelty. Maybe he liked it.

  He definitely liked it, judging by the gleam in his eye, the hitch in his breath. The question was, how long would he let her run with it? How far could she push him?

  All of a sudden, she really, really wanted to find out.

  “Let me see,” she said, though seeing wasn’t what her hands were busy doing with his jeans. “How about you lose these?” She made it a command, not a request, and his nostrils flared.

  She hurried on before he might intervene, unzipping the fly and slowly pushing down his jeans.

  “Oops. Shoes,” she murmured.

  He went to reach for them, but she caught his hand.

  “On second thought, leave them like that. I like you trapped. Helpless.”

  His right eyebrow arched. “Helpless?”

  “Helpless,” she replied. As helpless as a two-hundred-pound bear shifter could be, at least. Even if that wasn’t much, she was having too much fun to stop now. “This way, I can proceed with my diabolical plan.” She ran her hands down his chest, inching gradually south.

  His body was tense, his eyes full of lust, and his mouth crooked in the slightest smile. “An actual plan?”

  “Hey!” she protested. “I always have a plan.”

  He tilted his head, clearly skeptical.

  “They just have a way of evolving as I go along.”

  “Evolving, huh?”

  “Evolving.” She nodded firmly. She slid her fingers through a thatch of curls and found his cock jutting nearly straight up. “Of course, I can always stop,” she threatened, dropping slowly, deliberately, to her knees.

  He looked down at her from what seemed to be ten feet above. “Don’t stop.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

  She leaned in, holding him, aligning him with her mouth, then turned her head and kissed the tip.

  His whole body shuddered with barely restrained need, and he knotted his fingers in her hair.

  “Don’t stop,” he whispered again.

  Oh, she had no intention of that. She licked him all the way down and up one side then the other, and finally took him in her mouth. God, how could he taste so good, even there? She found herself making little noises as she slid up and down, taking him deeper, retreating, and rocking closer to take another inch for her pleasure. Her tongue lapped the underside at the same time, and her whole body heated. His power seethed just below the surface, but for the moment, she was the one calling the shots. A high in itself with a man like him.

  She set into a slow, steady rhythm while his hands clutched at her hair, at empty space, at the smooth surface of the door he leaned against. She knew she’d be grabbing for the sheets the same way when they moved to the bed, plus making noises much louder than the hungry little pants Tanner let out as she worked him up and down. She swirled her tongue around the head of his shaft and let her lips tug the foreskin, then opened wide and took him deeper still.

  He whispered something, or maybe yelled it, but she wasn’t tuned in to anything but the feel, the taste, the heat stirring her bones.

  “Wait,” he insisted, and the word dimly registered in her ears.

  She slid slowly off him, one millimeter at a time, and peered up. Nice view. All that bear, right there for the taking. Why stop now?

  “No good?”

  “Too good,” he said, pulling her up. After he kissed her, he broke off to say something, but then his eyes sparked like he’d just registered the taste of himself on her lips. He dove back for more.

  She slid his shirt up, playing with his nipples, aching for more contact.

  Tanner panted against her neck for a second, every muscle straining at invisible bonds.

  “I could finish what I started, you know,” she murmured.

  He shook his head. “The only place I want to come is in you.”

  Well, he had been in her, but she wasn’t going to argue technicalities. Not with an offer like that.

  “Well then, show me what you got.”

  He cupped her face in both hands and smoothed his thumbs down her cheeks, looking more serious than ever. Happily-ever-after kind of serious, which made her pulse skip. Then he cracked a tiny smile and pulled back. “Did your plan include getting my jeans off before my boots, or the other way around?”

  She looked down, and of course, he was still tangled in his own clothes. Oops. “Minor detail.”

  A detail he rectified in ten seconds flat when he yanked his own shirt and shoes off, followed by the jeans and his boxers.

  All that man-flesh, naked to her eye. Yum, her dragon yowled.

  Tanner backed her up to the bed one step at a time. “Just. Wait,” h
e said, uttering one word with each slow step, “Til. You. See. My. Plan.”

  “I’m not good at waiting.” Her legs bumped the mattress. When he lowered her slowly, she hung on to the chiseled lines of muscle in his shoulders, refusing to let go.

  “I noticed. But I’m not the one with all the buttons.” He ran his knuckles down her silk dress as he had before. Down, then up, bumping over each knot button, rising over the swell of her breasts, and dipping toward her waist.

  “So get to work, mister.” She slid her hand down his naked belly.

  He caught her before she reached too low and guided her hand to his shoulder. “This belongs here. And this,” he said, leading her left hand to his neck, “belongs here.”

  Ah, the bear was taking charge again. Well, she sure could go with the flow.

  “And you belong here.” She guided his lips to hers.

  His kisses worked her into a whimpering mess with tricks of the tongue that had to be a special bear thing — and wow, what a thing — before starting on a long, winding path along her body.

  “I belong here,” he whispered, kissing her neck.

  Her body lifted when his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin, and a groan escaped her lips.

  “And here,” he continued, kissing over to the other side while his fingers went to work on the buttons. One knot button after another surrendered to his nimble fingers, and the tight dress grew looser around her chest.

  “Getting the hang of them now,” he murmured, rushing through the last few. The buttons slid free of the loops holding them. Even then, it took some work to pull the form-fitting dress off, but that was nothing compared to what she’d gone through to put it on. But it had all been worth it, because when he stripped her of her bra and panties and laid her back down, his jaw had a hard set to it and his eyes a feral glow.

  Mine, those eyes said as he came down over her body. All mine.

  She nearly echoed him, but his lips caught her nipple and she cried out instead.

  Oh, this is going to be good, her dragon hummed inside.

  Leaning back to let the man do the work had never felt so good, so fast. He consumed her. Feasted on her. Sandpapered her most sensitive spots with his stubbly chin. The soft undersides of her breasts, her belly, her inner thighs. He worked her with his fingers and tongue, winding her higher and higher.

  Her hair was probably a mess, her body sweaty, her face contorted with happy cries. She’d never felt so good. So thoroughly, deliciously ravished. He went at her like a bear might go at honey after a long winter’s sleep, and all she could do was wiggle and moan and wind her limbs around his.

  “More,” she mumbled every time he ignited a new set of nerves in her body. Nerves she didn’t know she had before. Nerves that seemed to have been slumbering all her life before jumping into action now.

  “More,” he agreed, nudging her legs apart with a knee.

  She felt like a one-woman slot machine. Zing-zing-zing! No matter how he touched her, the reels would line up, making her a winner again and again.

  They didn’t bother with a condom because shifters had nothing to worry about except making babies, and she wasn’t in heat.

  Sweet Jesus, what a thought, her dragon sighed. If she was this desperate for him now, how mindless with lust would she feel when she was in heat?

  Tanner popped his head up and stared. Had he heard her thoughts?

  Her mind drifted with burning images while his eyes flared.

  First things first, sweetheart.

  Jesus, she could hear his voice in her head. He had to be her mate. According to legend, the truest of destined mates could hear each other’s thoughts before they traded mating bites if they trusted one another enough.

  Trust. Jesus, did she really dare?

  Of course, we dare, her dragon chided. Of course, he’s our mate.

  Of course, I’m your mate, his bear echoed.

  “Then show me,” she whispered, extending her arms over her head. Giving herself over to him as she’d never given herself to any man before.

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes to the sweet, slow burn of him sliding into her. “Yes.”

  He pulled back, thrust forward, and opened his mouth in a silent exclamation. Each time he pulled back, her soul sobbed in protest. Each time he hammered in, her heart cried in relief. She bucked her hips in time with his, and when he pulled her knees higher along his waist, she cried out again.

  “So good…” Nothing she said could capture the sensation, though she didn’t stop trying. “God, yes…”

  The bed creaked, and the water in the glass she’d left on the side table earlier threatened to splash right over the rim. Tanner huffed harder and pushed deeper while she tilted her head farther and farther back, focused entirely on the fire building within her. A fire that grew and grew and grew until she was howling for release.

  “Tanner,” she cried.

  He rocked harder. Deeper. Faster, until his whole body went stiff and a groan slipped past his lips.

  She hit her climax a second later, shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her veins. She hung on to him, lost to all sense of time and place. Lost to everything but the feel of her man. His cock, buried deep, deep inside her. His heart, pounding against hers. His sweet breath, warming her neck.

  He lowered his body until it was flush with hers, and in the brief pauses between each of his panting breaths, she heard him whisper her name.

  “Karen…Karen…”

  Music to her ears. His voice was pure music to her ears.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tanner’s bear made him mumble Karen’s name as he held her tight.

  “My mate,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her skin.

  He was through denying it. There was no way Karen could be anything but his mate. He’d never hungered after a woman as much before. Never spent as much time marveling at a woman’s eyes or voice or laughter before. He’d never gone from rock hard to jelly as quickly, and he sure as hell had never listened to his bear sing like a happy drunk.

  Mine! My mate!

  So, okay, he got it already. Karen was his destined mate.

  Isn’t she amazing? his bear hummed.

  He let out a slow breath and hugged her closer. Yes, she was amazing. Funny. Unique. And she drove him crazy in the very best way. So what if she was occasionally a little headstrong and got herself into trouble?

  He caught himself there. Karen was always headstrong, and she always got into trouble. Could he live with that?

  He traced the delicate line of her collarbone with a finger.

  Can we live without that? his bear kicked in.

  No, he couldn’t. But if only she weren’t quite so reckless…

  His bear shrugged. Then she wouldn’t be the one I love.

  But she could be so stubborn, too.

  Stubborn can be good, his bear decided.

  Impulsive.

  If she weren’t impulsive, we’d never have met her. We never would have taken her out that night.

  Damn, his bear had a point. Just the thought of having missed her, of going through life ignorant of his destined mate, hurt to consider.

  Still, it would be easier if she weren’t so damned unpredictable.

  His bear grinned inside, so much that his human cheeks moved with the gesture. Predictable is boring. Chalk it up to a more interesting life.

  All his life, he’d been taught to be careful. To think things through. To lay plans and foundations and build upon them, one cautious step at a time. And yeah, it worked.

  But damn, could life be dull that way.

  Her bare skin took on the blue tint of the neon light outside. He stroked her shoulder, marveling at the contradiction of it all. The situation couldn’t be crazier or more uncertain, and yet he’d never felt so calm or satisfied or content. He even felt safe, which was nuts, because she was a witch. A fugitive. A thief.

  “Hey,” she murmured, turning in his arms, coming f
ace-to-face.

  And there it was again, that stab of emotion, that hallelujah chorus, those fireworks in his chest.

  “Hey,” he whispered back.

  “You’re blue.” She smiled, running a finger along his cheek.

  He grinned in spite of himself. “So are you. And anyway, the only color I’m fed up with is red.”

  She nestled closer, mesmerizing him. Her eyes were shining the way they had at the diamond, and his heart beat a little faster. He’d heard about dragons and their lust for treasures. But to be counted in that category?

  Wow.

  She nodded solemnly. “Mate. My destined mate.”

  He let a second or two tick by, digesting her easy acceptance of that crazy fact.

  “I wasn’t sure dragons believed in that,” he murmured.

  Karen snuggled along his shoulder and neck, and his bear sighed happily inside.

  “Some do, some don’t. I didn’t really believe it until now.” She kissed him. “No telling with dragons sometimes.”

  “What about witches?” he asked, and she immediately tensed.

  “Why do you ask?”

  He shifted around so she could see the truth in his eyes. The worry — and the hope, too. “There’s been a lot of bad blood between bears and witches where I come from.”

  She sighed, and the sound had a bitter note. “There’s a lot of bad blood between witches and shifters in lots of places. It’s not my fault.”

  He tipped her chin up when she dipped it. The last thing he wanted was to derail things now. “I’m not saying it is. I’m just trying to figure things out.”

  “Like what?” Her voice was tight.

  Like how to screw up this perfect night? his bear muttered, shaking its head at him.

  “Like how I’ll beat it into my clanmates’ heads that you’re mine.”

  Her face broke into a smile, and her muscles loosened up again. “You’d do that for me?”

  I’d die for you, his bear swore solemnly.

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  She stared at him a long while then nodded. “So, ask. Ask me anything you want to know.”

  He pulled her closer because the inch of space that had opened up between them was way too much.

 

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