Bear Exposure (Highland Brothers 3)

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Bear Exposure (Highland Brothers 3) Page 3

by Meredith Clarke


  She whimpered as he began to pry her wider, adding another finger and then another. Her hips moved quickly, taking his fingers. Clenching at the pressure, feeling the delicious pain spread through her core.

  His thumb began to massage the throbbing nub above her entrance and Presley thought she would float off the bed.

  “Oh, yes,” she whimpered.

  Striker leaned forward, planting a kiss on her stomach. Her eyes landed on his. She saw a wicked smile on his lips.

  He pulled his fingers from her and she felt a sudden ache in her core. He crawled over top of her. Kissing her deeply and slowly. She wrapped her hands around his neck, twisting her tongue against his. Sucking at the corners of his mouth.

  He shoved her T-shirt over her head, and his mouth pinned her nipple between his teeth.

  “Ohh,” she screamed, fisting his hair in her hands. She pushed on the back of his head, forcing him to suck harder. His teeth nipped on her breast and she arched toward him.

  His lips descended on the other side, taking her deep in his mouth. “You’re fucking delicious.” He licked her nipple, watching it pucker under his tongue.

  Presley writhed under him as he pinched and sucked her breasts. She gasped for a breath, when his hand coasted over her stomach, dipping again to her nub.

  He flicked it, his eyes watching her expression. “You like that, Presley?”

  Her head reeled back. She couldn’t form words. How could he talk?

  She nodded. She stared as his mouth moved from between her breasts, along her stomach, and stopped just above her legs.

  “Do you want me to fuck you, Presley?”

  She nodded. There wasn’t anything she wanted more. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel him hitting her innermost walls. She wanted him to make her forget the nightmare of a day she had.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “More than you know.”

  “I have to taste you before I claim you,” he whispered. “I’m going to drink you, lick you, then fuck you like you deserve.”

  She felt her legs turn to jelly. She nodded. Please, yes. All of that. Then she felt the fiery heat of his tongue dance against her center. He pulled her legs over his wide shoulders as his tongue plunged into her entrance.

  “You taste so sweet,” he groaned, sending vibrations between her legs.

  “Oh, don’t stop.”

  She moved her hips to meet his face, loving the roughness of his scruff on her soft thighs. She felt the need for him clawing inside her. Nothing had ever felt like this. Maybe it was because he was a stranger and the excitement of not knowing anything about him heightened all her senses. She didn’t know what was making her body react like this, only if he didn’t sink his cock into her, she would incinerate from want.

  His tongue lashed at her, taking her to the brink of insanity. It felt so good. So decadent. So sinfully amazing.

  “I think you’re ready,” he growled.

  “Yes, please,” she begged.

  “I don’t want you to come without me.”

  She didn’t want to either. All she could think about was covering him with heat and warmth.

  He pulled back on his heels, lowering her hips to the bed. He shoved his pants from his waist, taking his boxers with them.

  She had to stop herself from gasping. His erection was long and thick like a steel rod. Holy shit. She wanted all of it inside of her. Heated and hard. She had to feel it.

  She reached forward, taking him in her hand, rubbing the glistening drop from the tip along the skin of his shaft.

  He growled, “Feels good.”

  She smiled as she massaged him. He was so wide and solid. She loved how he felt in her hand. She knew she had to feel him inside her—nothing between them—no protection. She licked her lips. Letting him come would be like letting a flame dance inside her.

  “You have to say it. You have to tell me you want me to claim you,” Striker urged.

  He could do whatever he wanted with her. She was panting, wet, and on fire.

  “I want you.” She looked directly in his eyes, knowing there was no going back.

  Before she could spread her legs for him, he flipped her on her stomach, his body aligning behind hers.

  She began to quiver. She had never been taken from behind. Her hands instinctively went to the headboard.

  “Yes, just like that.” He nudged her knees farther apart. “Oh you’re so ready for me,” he groaned, dipping a finger inside her.

  Her breaths turned raspy as her hips rose higher.

  She felt the tip of his erection between her legs. He toyed with her entrance. “So wet,” he whispered.

  She looked over her shoulder. She wanted to watch as he buried himself inside her.

  He reached forward, grabbing her hair in his fist, and her hips jerked to meet him. She was aching and pulsing. Hurting from the need.

  His tip pushed slightly against her opening. “Tell me, Presley. There’s no going back after this.”

  “Oh, Striker fuck me. Please.” Instead of letting him move at his pace, she jostled backward, sucking him deep inside her.

  “Oh, fuck,” he growled.

  He began to rock and thrust. Presley screamed as she stretched around his wide cock. It hurt and seared fire through her core but as she sank into the rhythm she felt a soothing peace hum through her body.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned. “Ohh.”

  It was glorious how he filled every part of her. His hands cupped her breasts, kneading her nipples. The harder he pinched, the wetter she got.

  “Like that, Pres.” He kissed her back. “Oh, you’re mine. Fucking mine.” He gripped the side of her hips and his thrusts grew stronger.

  She absorbed the sensations. Each one fueling her hunger for him. He was obliterating all her restraint—all her inhibitions. It was raw and primal as she clawed at the headboard.

  His fingers traveled to her nub and she knew she’d be lost if he touched it.

  “Come now,” he commanded and he flicked over the swollen heat, shattering her last shreds of resistance.

  She felt her body begin to shake as her orgasm began to tear through her. It was like a blinding light taking over every surface of her skin. She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think. All she knew was her body was consumed by this tall dark and handsome stranger and the pleasure was deeper than anything she’d ever felt.

  “Striker,” she screamed his name as he released himself into her. Throbbing against her entrance, pulsing his cock hard and urgently.

  She rocked into him, needing him to fill her. It was as if his body fused to hers as he spilled into her, one breathless thrust at a time.

  He collapsed against her back, pulling her into his arms.

  “You are fucking amazing,” he growled.

  “You aren’t too bad either.” She giggled.

  He nuzzled against her neck. “I’m so glad I finally found you.”

  Presley’s body felt warm and weightless, like there was light floating through her blood. As if she was made up of bits of clouds.

  The fire crackled and popped. If she woke up in the morning and discovered this was all just some kind of dream she realized that would make more sense than the possibility that this was real. That she was lying in a stranger’s arms. That she was hiding from a pack of shifters. That she was glowing in the bliss of her first one-night stand.

  9

  Striker

  Striker felt something warm and soft against his chest. His eyes opened. It wasn’t a dream. Presley was real and she was lying in his arms.

  She breathed lightly, her shoulders rising and falling. Her blond hair cascaded over her collarbone, covering her breasts.

  God, she was fucking incredible. The way she tasted. The way she let him fuck her until the sun came up.

  He groaned. He had always wanted to claim his mate. He knew it wouldn’t be like anything before. It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t getting drunk and hooking up at the end of a da
te. It wasn’t a one-night stand. It was forever.

  His bear growled. He was ready to do it again. He felt the energy course through his limbs. He needed her again. He was desperate for her. Hungry to be inside her.

  He brushed the hair from her neck, stirring her. He saw the smile on the corners of her lips. Oh, those soft, luscious lips of hers.

  “Good morning.” He rolled her under him.

  She grinned. “Good morning.”

  His bear felt good, satisfied. He felt the hardness bulge between his legs, as he nudged her knee to the side.

  Her breath caught as her eyes filled with lust.

  He waggled his eyebrows. She immediately smiled and slipped her arms around his neck.

  Her legs wrapped around his waist and she drew his erection against her slick folds, grinding her hips into his.

  “Fuck,” he growled into her neck.

  She was hot and wet and he wasn’t going to wait another second to be inside her. He pulled up, pushing himself into her heat.

  “Oh, Striker,” she cried.

  He knew it was intense for her, but she smiled as they found their rhythm and he pumped against her harder. She clawed at his back, lifting her hips higher, begging for him to make her come.

  He smiled, knowing she was a good mate. Coming when he commanded. Offering her body in every way.

  “Please, please,” she whimpered. “I need it. I need to feel it.”

  “Oh I want you to come, baby.” His teeth nipped at her shoulder. “Come for me like that.”

  When he knew they both needed their release, he slammed into her roaring over the bed. She came undone in his arms. Her body quivering. Her core wrapped around his cock, vibrating and pulsing. He held her in his arms while she convulsed around him, accepting his shifter essence, sucking it deep in her body. It was fucking ecstasy.

  He knew he had found everything he had been looking for in a mate. Presley was the one. He collapsed on top of her, finding sleep again, while his body filled hers.

  10

  Presley

  Presley opened her eyes. Striker was asleep. She had managed to push him off of her. He didn’t realize how heavy he was against her. His arm draped over her stomach.

  The sun was filtering through the blinds. She had no idea what time it was, only that she had never spent a night like that in her life. She felt different. She felt as if her body hummed with something musical. Was it possible there was more to this than amazing sex?

  She watched him sleep and planned a strategy of how to creep out of bed without waking him. She lifted his hand, rolled away, then placed it on the pillow. Striker took a deep breath, but didn’t stir.

  She tip-toed to the bathroom. She couldn’t imagine what she looked like. She imagined her body had to be bruised and raw from the way she let him handle her, but stared in the mirror. Her cut was almost completely healed.

  It wasn’t red or swollen. She pulled the butterfly bandage from the gash. How was that possible?

  She felt her neck where she remembered Striker’s teeth pressing against her skin. It wasn’t red. Her thighs, her stomach, her breasts all looked perfectly fine.

  For an instant she wondered if she really had dreamed the entire scenario, but she turned from the bathroom and spotted her naked host sprawled across his bed. No, it wasn’t a dream. Every bit of it had happened.

  She crept back to her room where she could shower and change before Striker woke up. She hesitated when she saw her phone. She picked it up, counting five more missed calls from Colton. Shit.

  She turned it off. She didn’t want to know if he called. He wouldn’t find her. She was safe here with Striker.

  As she stood under the water, she realized she needed a plan. She had to stay off the pack’s radar. She wondered how long Striker was staying at Highland House. She wondered if she could stay. It was worth trying.

  For the first time since she had discovered the pack’s existence, she felt safe. She felt protected. It sounded crazy, but after last night she felt as if Striker would guard her body with everything he had.

  She giggled as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair. It did sound crazy. If the only thing she got out of this was sex and a safe place to stay for a few nights, it would be ok. She wasn’t looking for anything when she left Cover City other than a new start. A start that didn’t involve her sacrificing her life.

  She lathered body wash in her hands and covered her body in bubbles. She felt a brief stab of regret for not using protection last night, but it was spontaneous and passionate. She’d try to bring up condoms if they ended up in bed together again.

  She stepped out of the shower.

  “Presley? Presley?” Striker’s voice sounded frantic.

  “In here,” she called.

  “Hey.” He grinned.

  He was wearing the pajama pants from last night. Damn, he was delicious. She was reminded why condoms seemed like a terrible idea when she was naked with him.

  “Thought I’d take a shower.” She wrapped a towel around her chest.

  “Sorry I missed it.”

  She ran another towel over her hair, shaking the water from the ends.

  “I’ll make us some breakfast.”

  “Breakfast? You cook?” Her stomach lurched. She hadn’t eaten anything since she hit the road.

  “Don’t get too excited. I don’t know what’s here. I didn’t prepare to entertain.”

  Her eyes hit the floor. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t do that.” He walked to her, dragging her into his arms. “I’m glad.” He kissed her forehead.

  God, this man was amazing. “I am too.”

  “I like being iced in with you. You kept me warm all night.” He winked.

  She hadn’t known him twenty-four hours. She wasn’t about to tell him the things bubbling in her chest.

  “Meet me downstairs.” He turned from the bathroom.

  Presley let a sigh escape. He felt real. He looked real. But she knew it wasn’t possible. Perfect guys didn’t materialize out of thin air. She was a bartended on the run. There was no way this fairytale was coming true.

  11

  Striker

  Striker opened the pantry. He had to figure out something to feed her. She would need food and strength. He had claimed her twice. If he was lucky, she was already carrying his cubs.

  He had always wanted a big family. Lots of cubs. More Highlands running through the woods. He wanted to teach them about embracing their bear. About controlling the animal within. This was what he always wanted.

  He could picture big family Christmases with Presley, surrounded by their cubs. Camping trips. Vacations. All of it.

  He heard Presley’s footsteps in the hallway and looked up to see her enter the kitchen.

  “Breakfast might have to be frozen waffles.” He shrugged.

  She giggled. “I think frozen waffles will work.”

  “I’ll order grocery deliver today.” He pulled the cardboard box from the freezer and set the dial on the toaster oven.

  “Delivery? Are we near a town? I thought this was the middle of nowhere.”

  “I’ll have someone from the Highland office bring things. Tell me what your favorite foods are. I’ll get anything you want.”

  “You have someone who will drive two hours with groceries?”

  He nodded. “I did mention last night I’m Striker Highland.”

  She stared blankly. “Sorry, am I supposed to know your name?”

  He chuckled. “Actually, it’s kind of nice that you don’t.”

  “But I guess most girls do?” she asked.

  “Some.” He eyed her.

  “But it must mean something if you have grocery delivery service.”

  “Yeah I have some money. The family has a staff that handles things for us. I can get you anything you need.”

  “And who is us?” She sat at one of the barstools, while he placed the waffles on the toaster rack.

  “My brother Crawfo
rd is an architect in Seattle. And my brother Hudson is an author.”

  “Hudson Highland is your brother?” Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead.

  “Yep. The one and only.”

  He closed the door on the toaster. Most women he dated knew he was a famous photographer. They had seen his exhibits or knew his byline in magazines. Everything about Presley was refreshing. It made sense she was his mate. He was pleased with his bear.

  “Wow. That’s quite a family.”

  “It has its downsides. Tell me about your family.” He walked to the pantry. He knew he had seen a jar of honey in here somewhere.

  She bristled, twisting her hair furiously through her fingers. “I don’t have family.”

  He eyed her. “No family?”

  “No. My parents died when I was in high school. It’s just me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She looked around the kitchen. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

  He sensed the change of subject was because he had struck a nerve. Family was everything to him. They did need to discuss the next few, though. He was glad she brought it up.

  Now that he had found her, he wasn’t going to let her go. She was his mate. His everything. He hoped, the mother of his cubs.

  “I don’t have a plan.” He moved a bag of flour out of the way. “I sort of took off from a shoot for a few days.”

  “What kind of shoot?”

  “For Zest magazine.”

  “You’re kidding me. And you left?”

  He grabbed the jar and placed it on the counter in front of her. “I brought my camera here. Thought I’d try to find my inspiration again. Sometimes it helps getting away from the city.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I think I know that feeling.”

  Her words pulled at his chest. He felt his bear stir.

  The toaster dinged and Striker placed the hot waffles on a plate. “Sorry about the breakfast, but there is coffee.” He handed her a plate and turned to pour a cup of coffee.

  “What kind of pictures do you like to take?” she asked, biting down on her fork.

 

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