Secrets of the Bear (Trapped in Bear Canyon Book 4)

by Terry Bolryder

  “We don’t like being called round.”

  “Too bad,” he said, crawling forward to place a light kiss on her nose.

  She wrinkled it as he got back between her legs.

  “Time for feasting,” he said.

  She covered her face in her hands. “Oh, gross, don’t call it that.”

  But then his lips were over her, his tongue moving wickedly again, and she didn’t care what he called it as long as he never stopped.

  Her hands twisted into the sheets as she cried out his name. It felt so good being able to acknowledge her want for him, his want for her, the fact that he was here.

  That it wasn’t too late for them.

  They could still overcome everything Charles had done to them. Couldn’t they?

  Another orgasm took over, and her body went numb with pleasure, tensing hard and then releasing in delicious waves of light that were almost too strong to bear.

  “Francis,” she called out. “Francis.”

  “That’s right,” he growled against her. “Say my name. Burn it into your soul.”

  It was cheesy. It was romantic. It was how she’d never expected him to be yet totally right at the same time. He swiped over her with his tongue, starting the climb again, and she ached for more. For him inside her.

  She sat up, trying to reach for him, but he put out a hand to hold her back. She reached again. “I want you,” she said. “Inside me.”

  He blinked and raised his head, looking up at her. “What?”

  She flushed. “You know.”

  He blinked again. He looked adorable when he did that. And it was amazing that there was anything that could make a six-foot-six man look adorable. “We can’t,” he said finally, looking like he was about to go back between her legs.

  She closed them. He growled and went to part them, but she stopped him. “It’s not a game,” she said.

  He let her go. They were both sheened with sweat, panting from exertion, and it was an odd lull in the moment as they stared at each other in a battle of wills.

  10

  “If we do that without protection, then we’re mated,” Francis said. “And I told you I’m not doing that. Not until you’re safe.”

  She frowned. “But aren’t I safe with you?”

  “Yes,” he said, coming over her, sheltering her with his weight. “Of course.” He rolled on his side beside her and pulled her into his stomach. It was hard, rippling, and incredibly hot. “But you won’t feel like it until you know he’s gone. Or done.”

  She shivered. “I suppose.” She blinked. “What about if we used protection?”

  “You mean like a condom?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Uh, I guess that would work. I never thought about it.”

  “Why not?” she asked, scrunching up her nose. She was enjoying the feel of him cuddling behind her, but her body was still on fire, wanting more. Much more.

  “I guess because it never occurred to me to have sex with anyone but the person I would mate with. And then I wouldn’t need a condom.”

  She sighed. Then gasped. She pushed herself up and looked down at him in shock. “Francis, are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

  His face went bright red. “Yes… Wait… Why? Does it bother you?”

  “No,” she said, sitting back. “But it does kind of change things.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you do… that so well to me?”

  He shrugged. “You mean the oral sex? I guess I just wanted to kiss you, and then I read your body and the sounds you made, and when it seemed good, I did more of it.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  He sat up, reaching for her hands, pulling them away. “Why?”

  She looked at him, flaming red now as well. “I guess I thought you were experienced. What did I feel like? What did I taste like? What—”

  He kissed her, and she gasped, tasting something vaguely salty as his tongue swiped into her mouth. It was a bit erotic, knowing he’d been down on her, even as her embarrassment reached an all-time peak. She was tasting herself on his lips.

  Yet it was fine.

  He pulled back. “You tasted like love,” he said simply.

  She felt her heart freeze in panic at just how sweet his words were.

  He held her hand. “And yeah, if I had a condom, I’d try with you.”

  “Um, well…” Her eyes darted to the bedstead table where she’d put the small bag of supplies she’d brought from the convenience store she’d stopped at on the way here. “I might have one.”

  His eyes went wide, and a smile crossed his face. “What? Why?”

  She thought she’d die of embarrassment on the spot, but she’d die more if she didn’t get to be one with him right now. She wanted to feel him inside her, watch his eyes roll back in his head and know she’d been the one to do that to this powerful man.

  To her friend that she was pretty sure she was in love with.

  If it was possible to love someone from the moment you’d met them and somehow not know it until much later.

  “I guess… I don’t know. I didn’t know what would happen. And why not, right?” She’d seen condoms at the checkout counter and bought them impulsively, one of those decisions you make, not knowing where it will really lead you.

  She’d thought for a second with fear about what Charles would think if he saw her buying them, and then a grin had split her face and she’d bought them just to spite him, to prove he had no hold over her. That she wasn’t his no matter what he had to say about it.

  He’d hit her, he’d hurt her, and even before that, he’d separated her from Francis, hurt them both.

  She could never forgive him for that either.

  Francis followed her gaze to the drawer and pulled it open, rummaging around until he pulled out a foil packet with a circle indent on it.

  “Magnum XL?” he asked, cocking his head. He stood there looking like some kind of Greek god perplexed by a condom.

  She giggled. “I figured why not go all the way.”

  “But you were… Were you planning this?” he asked, confused.

  “No,” she said. “But I guess I just wanted to be prepared for anything. I’m free now. Charles has no hold on me. I’m a free woman.”

  He nodded and seemed to finally understand what she meant by that. “If it sets you free, if it makes you feel free, I’ll do anything.” He brought the packet to his teeth and tore it open, pulling the condom out. He stared at it and wrinkled his handsome nose. “Um. This is XL?” He looked down at himself. “We’re going to have a problem.”

  “They stretch,” she said with a giggle, lying back against the covers, spreading her legs, still feeling wet and warm for him.

  He removed his boxers and knelt on the bed between her legs. His impressive length sprang free, so thick, so impossibly huge that her eyes went wide with the thought of fitting him inside her.

  He looked from her to the condom. “I don’t know about this.”

  She closed her eyes in amusement and then gave him a warm smile. “Hey, considering everything else we’ve had to go through, a little discomfort, a little bit of working things out is nothing.”

  He nodded and rolled the condom on with some difficulty, wincing when it was mostly on. “That’s tight,” he grumbled.

  She reached up for his arms, pulling him down over her on the bed in missionary position. “You won’t notice once you’re inside me,” she said. “Trust me.” She kissed his cheek, and he looked away, flushing.

  He touched his tip to her entrance, and she squirmed, digging her nails into his arms. “When you’re ready,” he said.

  “I’m ready,” she said with a nod.

  He began pushing in, and she gasped, tensing automatically as her body resisted for a moment. He waited, patiently, and then she slowly relaxed as she looked up into his blue eyes, seeing the love there, the caution. His utter wish not to hurt her. Her body parted for
him, and he slowly slid in until they were fitted so tightly together that if he moved at all, it felt as if she would come apart.

  “Just wait,” she said, staying still and holding tight on to his arms. “Hold on a second.”

  He kissed her nose. “Whatever you need.” Then he dipped down to kiss her lips. Gently. Lovingly. Making her relax even further into the warm pleasantness of the moment. Making her hot and wet again. Desperate for him. She wiggled, feeling a tiny bit of give, and pulled back with a nod.

  “Okay,” she said. “You can move.”

  He went slowly, gritting his teeth as he pulled out just the slightest bit, watching her reaction. When she winced, he stopped immediately, looking concerned. She shook her head and urged him on, pushing with her hands on his shoulders. He pulled nearly all the way out and, with a look at her for approval, pushed back in.

  This time the fit was better, a smooth slide in that settled with a finality in her soul that felt like home.

  She grinned up at him and bit back a sigh. “That’s amazing.”

  He grinned back and began to move. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he began to stroke, slowly, then more quickly, in and out of her, lighting a fire that was slow-burning inside her with every move.

  It seemed as if he were using a great deal of effort to hold back, his shoulders bunching, his arms flexing, his impressive abs clenching, his full lips tensed in a line.

  She reached up to stroke his cheek. “Relax,” she croaked out. “It’s good. It feels amazing.”

  He sank into her hand, relaxing slightly, and picked up the pace. She dropped her hands to the sheets, digging her nails into them, wanting to grab something to express what she was feeling, but not wanting to hurt him.

  “Hold on to me,” he insisted, moving even more confidently inside her. Their rhythm increased as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in as she thrust up against him.

  He swore and said her name, closing his eyes as he continued to move with her to their inevitable climax. The orgasm she was building to was much different than the others she’d had. Stronger, deeper, touching her somewhere near her heart, making her feel close to something incredible.

  She could feel every part of him. Feel each smooth stroke. Feel his velvety skin. His hips against hers. His strength and his determination not to hurt her.

  And with his size, that was a good thing.

  She grinned at him as she felt her body get close to the edge of something amazing, feeling nearly ready to explode.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Close,” she said, shutting her eyes and then opening them wide. “So close.”

  He nodded and increased the speed, rocking them both into the bed, making it creak, drawing her attention to the feel of him, the sound of his labored breaths, the urgency of her body to go with him to that unknown destination. The feeling that this was greater than them both. More than fevered sex, more than orgasms.

  Something binding them together. Something amazing and fated and part of the universe. Something that made her finally feel included in the world and all the happiness it offered that she’d been shut out of before.

  She clasped her hands around him and dug in deep with her nails as pleasure, fire, overtook her, shaking her entire body to the core. Her convulsions pulled his release from him, and he jerked inside her, his entire body going rigid, his eyes staring down at hers in shocked amazement before he threw his head back, eyes closed.

  She watched him in awe, ecstasy flooding her as she observed him entirely engulfed in pleasure simply from being inside her body. It was the best feeling in the world, something she wanted to chase over and over. He thrust a few more times as he came inside her, and she thrust back, wanting to feel every bit of him she could as her own orgasm rippled through her.

  Their connection was surprisingly wet and warm. She’d never been wet like this before. Of course, she should have known she would be with him. His kindness. His strength. His beauty. The way he’d taken her in and taken care of her without question. The way he’d only been willing to do this to ease her hurt, not for his own selfish reasons.

  “I love you,” he said, stroking back the sweaty hair from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead and holding it there as he pushed her back into the bed, letting more of his weight rest on her.

  It was welcome, satisfying, right. She wanted him to stay in her forever.

  He propped himself up and looked down at her, love shining in his eyes as if he were wondering at how beautiful she was, and she flushed.

  Then he looked between them and went slightly paler. His hand went down between them, and he pulled out of her and rolled off the bed, striding to the bathroom.

  Her heart pounded as she pushed herself into a sitting position, confused.

  What had just happened? A moment ago, everything had been perfect, and Francis wasn’t the kind of man to run.

  Or was he? Isn’t that exactly what he’d done before, disappearing the second she and Charles had gotten together and never coming back to see if anything happened?

  She got up, legs still shaky, and knocked on the bathroom door. “Francis, is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” he said, but his voice was slightly panicked. She heard him take in and release a deep breath. “No, it really is. I’ll be out in a second.” She heard water running.

  What the fuck?

  When he came out, he had a towel around his waist and his hair was mussed and damp with sweat, his beautiful muscles still sheened from sex.

  Her heart leapt, despite the awkwardness of a moment before. He scooped her up in his arms and sat on the bed with her in his lap, rocking her slightly.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked. “You left.”

  “No,” he said, kissing her forehead and hesitating, leaving his lips there as if he were lost in thought. “Everything’s fine. I just… freaked out a bit I guess. It was stronger than I thought. It was more than I thought.”

  She nodded against him, but her heart was still pounding nervously. “Promise me you won’t run from me again,” she said.

  “Never,” he said.

  “Even if you misunderstand or someone makes you think bad of me again.”

  “I never felt bad about you,” he said. “I just thought you’d made your choice. I thought I’d never been an option in your eyes.”

  “I thought the same,” she said. “But I wish you’d stayed and fought.”

  “I should have,” he said. “But I thought I’d be fighting against your happiness. Now that I know I’m fighting for your happiness, there’s nothing I won’t do.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Now, should we go get you some more breakfast?” he asked, a slight smirk hiding the hesitance still lurking in his eyes. A hesitance that still made her nervous.

  “Okay,” she said, deciding it was something she shouldn’t push. “But are you ever gonna stop feeding me?”

  “Not as long as it makes you happy,” he said, standing and setting her on the ground so she could change back into her clothes. “Asking me not to make you happy is just not going to work. Speaking of which, I wanted to take you horseback riding this afternoon. What do you think?”

  She nodded. “Sounds good.”

  He shrugged into his robe. “Okay. I’ll call Rock.” He gave her one last handsome, heart-melting smile and then went out the door ahead of her, leaving her alone in his room.

  She smiled and then followed him out.

  As long as she was with Francis, there was no need to be nervous. She wouldn’t let fear hold her back this time.

  Charles Evans walked to the window of his penthouse and snarled down at the man standing on the sidewalk at the corner of his building.

  So they thought they could watch him with a simple private investigator? As if.

  People were so easy to manipulate, and it wasn’t any fun when they played this badly. It made it boring. Valerie had gotten boring, too, until he’d
decided to smack her around. That had gotten an interesting reaction from her.

  It hadn’t been very interesting to be with her once Francis wasn’t around to torture. Francis was one of those people that just happened to be especially burdened by a conscience, which made it that much funnier to make him squirm by taking away the woman he thought was his mate.

  That had been fun.

  But he hadn’t expected Francis to run. He’d put up with so much over the years, as Charles played games with him and took the things he wanted while pretending to be his friend, that Charles had thought he would stick around and make sad faces as long as he and Valerie fucked.

  But she hadn’t fucked him at all. She hadn’t wanted to. Maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe he hadn’t hidden the glee he felt over torturing Francis enough. Maybe she had more feelings for the big dope than she’d admitted.

  He’d assumed, with her insecurities, simply telling her Francis didn’t like big women would be enough. And Francis, with his politeness, his shyness, would never have made any kind of move to the contrary, even if his eyes always followed her.

  Charles, on the other hand, knew exactly what a woman like Valerie wanted and just how to give it to her. And he had, at first. Flowers every day, compliments on her body, which really was spectacular, and nice dinners.

  He made sure to treat her the way no one else had, and he’d been rewarded with the growing dismay on Francis’s face.

  He wanted to feel that again. He wanted to feel it when he came to take Valerie away after allowing Francis just a taste of her.

  There was no hurry. Let them bond a little longer, think they were safe from him. That he wasn’t following them.

  But he knew just where Francis was and just how long Valerie had been gone, and when the time was right, he would visit them.

  They weren’t allowed to be happy without him.

  Hell, they weren’t allowed to be happy at all.

  11

  Francis paced in Rock’s office while Valerie was outside with Ros, learning how to saddle up the horses.