Brenin

by Skye Jones

  “Do you want me to do it?”

  She nodded up at him, cheeks stained red.

  He sat back beside her and with gentle fingers pulled up her soft sweater. She put her arms in the air, compliant and docile, but her heaving chest gave away her emotions.

  Once he’d removed the wooly top, he looked at her in her strappy camisole. It sat low on her chest, showing the creamy tops of her breasts. Needing to touch, he let his fingers trail across the tip of her left shoulder and down her arm. Her skin goose bumped in his wake. He let his fingers roam across her décolletage, reining himself in, determined to be the gentleman she’d need this first time between them.

  First time? There he went again with making this more than it ought to be.

  She shifted, and the movement pushed her breasts up in her top. One finger lazily meandered down to where the shelf of her bra poked out of her camisole. He let the finger move softly over her and dip down to brush over her nipple, hard and wanton enough to poke through the flimsy satin of her bra and the cotton cami. When he touched the hard nub of flesh, she drew in a quick, harsh breath.

  He needed to taste. Bren glanced at her face and saw nothing but encouragement, so he lowered his head and sucked on her hard flesh, worshiping it through soft material. He laved at her through the satin and cotton, and then sucked her back in, letting his teeth scrape her slightly.

  “Oh my God.” Her head fell back.

  “Bren will do.” He lifted his head and shot her a grin, rewarded by her delighted laugh.

  He pushed the material up and over her mussed hair, until she wore only her bra. Her dark nipples showed clearly through the fabric and his mouth watered in response.

  He cupped her full breasts in his hands and kneaded the flesh, loving their weight. As he squeezed them, he remembered his promise to be a gentleman and gentled his touch, turning it into more of a stroke than a rough handling.

  “Don’t,” she breathed.

  “Sorry.” His blood ran cold, and he stopped touching her immediately. She didn’t want this. He’d pushed too far. Human, she wouldn’t feel the same urgency he did.

  He moved away, but she reached for him.

  “No, I didn’t mean stop. I meant, don’t hold back. I want you. All you have to offer.”

  His bear roared.

  Chapter 7

  She noted the change in him. The moment he stopped trying to be something he wasn’t. God help her, but she didn’t want gentle or polite or nice. For once in her life, Charlie wanted to feel desired in the way that drove men crazy. She wanted all of Bren. The man on the surface—and the beast within. Wanted his big body to take her, and if he did it rough, the more, the better. She believed he wouldn’t actually harm her.

  He’d never hurt you, my child. Never. Mates can’t hurt their other, not when the match is true. You make him whole. It would be like hurting himself.

  She shut her mind to the fairy folk. Right now, only the happy voices found her, but she didn’t need them in on this private moment. It seemed her wishes went answered because they stopped talking to her.

  Bren pulled her up off the bed and undid the button on her jeans. Warm hands slid over cool thighs as he pushed the denim down. She helped him at the end, shaking them free from her legs. Now she wore her bra, panties, and socks. Thick, wooly socks. Hardly sexy. She bent and pulled them off one foot then the other. When she straightened, Bren had his sweats halfway down his legs.

  He shucked them off and pulled off his own socks too. Now they stood facing one another in only their underwear. His warm, golden skin shone in the dim glow of the lamp he’d turned on when they entered the room. Hair covered his impressive pecs and narrowed into a trail leading down to his boxers. She almost licked her lips at the sight of him.

  He was huge and muscular, but not in an overly gym-toned way. He looked more like a rugby player, some meat covering his muscles but still in incredible shape.

  The light outside faded fast now, and the thick white snow gave the landscape an eerie glow. The world beyond their walls grew muted, muffled. A blanket of white covered the normal, frenetic activity of life. But in here, life blossomed and bloomed. Heart rates picked up, breath rushed in and out, and pupils dilated as lust took over, delighted at having her greedy way.

  Bren pulled her to him, his big arms coming right around her, wrapping her in a warm cocoon of muscle. She felt small. Charlie didn’t often feel small, but right here in this moment, in the arms of such a big guy, she may as well have been a porcelain doll. Fragile. Breakable. And the way he looked at her… As if she answered all his prayers.

  She sighed into his neck, and he huffed out an answering breath. His arms tightened, and broad palms swept down her back, caressing but determined. He palmed her ass cheeks, squeezing them and holding the bit of flesh she hated, which always poked out of her boy shorts to taunt her.

  “Love this ass,” he growled. “Love all of your body.”

  “Not my limp.” She tried to laugh off his worship of her, uncomfortable with male desire after so long without.

  “Don’t put yourself down. Your limp is part of you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” And then he knelt down and wrapped both hands around the leg she’d hurt. His mouth touched the skin of her thigh, down to her knee, tracing the scar that ran down her leg. The one from the surgeon’s knife and the frame they’d wrapped around her limb to hold it together during months of healing.

  “How did you do this?” he asked.

  “Got hit by a motorbike. It tossed me into a hedge, and when I came around, I’d been cut all over from the thorns and thick wood, and my leg looked a total mess.”

  He kissed it again and then moved down the leg, kissing his way along the fine-line scar until he got to her ankle. He lifted her foot, kissed her ankle, and then worked his way back up.

  She fought back tears at the way he made love to a part of her body she’d hurt so badly. The mangled flesh of her leg had become a reminder of pain and hospitals and fear, over time. She’d grown used to her limp, but even to this day, the scar still sometimes shocked her anew. It also added another thing to the list of stuff to dislike about herself.

  From being a young kid, she’d been teased for her red hair. The nickname, ginger top, echoed in her memory. Then, they’d teased her for her broken leg. And from then on for all the gained weight. In the end, she’d entered adolescence as an overweight, ginger-haired girl with big glasses and a limp. Hardly a great thing to be in the vile war zone of high school.

  Bren’s kisses and nibbles neared the top of her thigh, dragging her out of her head and back into her body. The sensations were delicious as his soft lips contrasted with fuzzy stubble. She stilled as he neared her core, nose nudging against her thin panties, and then his mouth was there. Hot, heavy breaths against lace.

  “Hhhmm,” he hummed as he breathed in.

  Warm, honey-brown eyes flicked up to Charlie’s face, hunger written clear as day in their depths. “Can I taste you?”

  Could he? Oh yes, please. She nodded, unable to trust her voice.

  He pulled her panties to one side and parted her with tender fingers. Lips nuzzled at her outer skin, finding their way around her most intimate area. This teasing went on long enough to have her squirming where she stood, trying desperately to get him where she wanted. In response, he only held on tighter with his strong grip.

  When she thought she’d explode from being so aroused, he turned his head a touch and finally gave her what she craved. He held her apart with his thumbs and licked a long stripe right up her center. She yelped at the sensation and lifted onto her toes. Oh God, it felt good. He repeated the movement and then settled to laving right at her clit. His tongue lapped at her repeatedly and set up a mind-blowing rhythm. It didn’t take long before she sensed a scary-strong climax building. She tried to move away, not sure about the politeness of coming all over his face, but he grunted and pulled her closer, burying his mouth against her mound.

  Sh
e came then, liquid waves of pleasure rolling over and through her. Tensing and relaxing all her muscles in an age-old dance of release. When it ended, she sank back down onto the heels of her feet and sighed in happiness.

  Bren didn’t give Charlie long to stay in that sated little bubble. He picked her up as if she were light as air and placed her on the bed. He clambered on, too, and looked down at her body under his. His eyes were no longer golden brown but a much darker shade as the irises bled away to give way to his expanded pupils, wide with desire.

  “I want to fuck you. I want it so bad.” He palmed her mound, and aftershocks of pleasure sparked over sensitized skin.

  “Yes. I want it, too.”

  He nodded and stretched toward the bedside drawer where he took a condom out. Messing with the wrapper, he snapped his gaze back to hers.

  “Take me out,” he ordered. The words and his tone sent a frisson of fearful delight skittering along her spine.

  Licking her lips, she scrambled to do as he commanded. Her hands played for a moment with the waistband of his boxer briefs. His bulge behind the soft cotton looked damn impressive—and a little scary, if honest.

  Not wanting to tease too much, she pulled the cotton away from his stomach and down his straining thighs. His cock sprang free to slap up against his hard belly, and her mouth ran dry. His girth looked impressive. Long and thick, dark at the top, it was the most gorgeous thing she’d seen.

  The one delicate part of her body, her hands, wrapped around his thick length and gave a tentative stroke up and down.

  “Oh Christ, you feel good.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and she garnered the courage to touch him more firmly.

  When she reached his broad head, a bead of moisture pooled there, and she went dizzy with the heady rush of so much power. She’d done this. She’d made this man leak for her, strain for her.

  “Stop.” The order brooked no resistance, and she immediately ceased her ministrations.

  “I’ll come if you keep it up, and I wanna be inside when I do.”

  His accent seemed thicker. More Canadian as he spoke to her and his voice came out more guttural. Demanding. She liked it.

  With deft fingers, he rolled the condom down over his length and pushed her legs apart with his knees. She looked in his eyes as he moved over her and positioned himself at her entrance.

  She liked him there, thick and insistent as he nudged at her. But instead of pushing in, he reached between them to run the head of his cock up over her slit, teasing her clit all over again. He did this five or six times until she moaned with the gorgeous sensation of it all.

  Then, he pushed in. On her moan, he slid in on a long, smooth glide. But she winced as pain halted the pleasure. Brenin immediately stopped moving.

  “Breathe, angel.”

  She did as told and took a couple of deep breaths in.

  “Relax for me, okay?”

  She nodded and told her internal muscles to give him a chance, for pity’s sake.

  He waited another moment and then withdrew some. When he pushed forward again, it hurt less, and along with the pain came a delicious friction where he rubbed against her tender walls.

  Three more slow drags out and steady pushes in, and he seated himself to the base. He stroked her hair from her face and kissed her, all slow and lazy as if they weren’t in the middle of sex but necking in the cinema.

  “Lift this leg up around me.” He pulled her good leg and wrapped it around his hips and lower back.

  And then he moved in earnest. He flexed his powerful hips and drove himself in and out of her. Charlie didn’t know what she loved the most. His cock inside her. The look on his face. Or his big body working above her, giving her the pornographic show of a lifetime as tan skin glistened over flexing muscles.

  Not wanting to be some passive, listless partner, she met his thrusts and realized if she pressed up as he bore down, it rubbed deliciously against her mound.

  They moved this way in a perfect rhythm, and her body stopped being something she didn’t particularly like and instead became something beautiful and strong. Capable not only of inspiring desire in this powerful man but in matching it, too.

  The sounds of sex filled the room. Flesh on flesh and panted breaths echoed off the walls.

  Bren lowered his head and sucked a nipple into his sinful mouth. Warm, wet flesh surrounded her aching peak. He sucked and licked and then added teeth. A barest hint of a nip, a long scrape, and the sharp sensations doubled all she felt between her legs.

  She was going to come. Sensed it building like a wave. And she’d never come this way before, only from using her toys or getting boyfriends to use their hands on her. She chased it, worked for it, pushing her breast at him, and meeting his thrusts.

  With a cry, she tipped her head back and rode out her release, clinging to the man providing it for her as her body flew apart on wave after wave of intense pleasure. She felt it deep inside and knew she must be clenching around him like a vise.

  “You’re so fucking hot, coming all over my cock. I love it. Want to keep you here forever and make you come over and over again. Until you can’t walk from it.”

  His words only served to prolong her ecstasy.

  With a deep groan, Bren pushed deep inside and held still. He spilled inside her, his cock twitching. He seemed to come for a long time, and it turned her on all over again, despite the aftershocks still running through her.

  When he finally stilled, she kissed his neck, his face, along his jaw. She wanted to weep with joy. Even if she went home tomorrow and never saw him again, Bren had given her an amazing gift. He’d shown her the beauty and strength of her body.

  He kissed her softly and pulled out, grasping the condom at the base. Charlie sat up and gasped when he pulled it off.

  “Oh, my.” She pointed. “There’s rather a lot of…you know…stuff.”

  He gave a casual shrug, but a faint wash of color stole over his cheeks. “Yeah, bear shifters come a lot.”

  Something about the idea turned her on like crazy. Before she put her brain into gear to stop herself, her mouth blurted out what she’d been imagining. “I’d like to see you come. All over me.”

  For a reward, she got a growl, another honest to goodness growl, and he pulled her to him. “It can be arranged.”

  “I’m on the pill, by the way,” she said. “I don’t have any diseases either, but I appreciate the condom. Are you…are you clean?” Oh, she found this all so excruciating. Seemed she had the talent for some impressive sexy-time shenanigans, but no ability to talk about the act.

  “Yes, I’m clean. We don’t suffer from many diseases and none transmitted through sex. You can’t get pregnant either. Not unless we are mated.”

  “Oh, so we don’t need the condoms, then?” She frowned, momentarily confused. It pleased her he’d used one for her sake, it seemed, but something about his expression at her words sent a chill through her sated, warm body.

  Not caring to simply let it go, she pressed. “Bren, did you use the condom because it’s what we human women expect? Or is there another reason?”

  “It helps stop the mating bond from being too strong. If I come inside you, our bond is strengthened. Tenfold. This way—” he shrugged “—not so much.”

  He still didn’t want her. Not really. Not fully. Why she cared, she had no idea. She didn’t wish to stay here. If he told her right now she needed to become his mate for life, doubtless she’d flee a mile. So why the hurt feelings? Not wanting to examine them and ruin the moment, she pushed them aside.

  “It protects you as well. If we fuck without condoms, you’ll bond as surely as I do. It’ll mess with your head. We’re used to it. We grow up knowing spending mere days, or even hours, with our mate to be can be enough to cement a lifetime bond. You guys can often take years before you decide to get married, and marriage isn’t a patch on the commitment that comes with a mate. Your body would want one thing, your mind another, and frankly, you’d feel t
orn apart. I saw it with my own mother.”

  “What happened to her?”

  His face closed down. Jaw turning tight and eyes hard. She nudged him with her elbow. “Hey, no fair. I shared the most humiliating experience of my entire life. You owe me.”

  He sighed and ran a hand over his short hair. Charlie admired the way his muscles flexed and relaxed as he did so.

  “My mom met my father and fell for him pretty quick. Dad kept away at first. Mom wasn’t a shifter. She also wasn’t Canadian, but she was staying there for a couple of years with her aunt. This was the twenties, and Mom loved being a young woman in a new land, getting to experience things women of her class and age rarely did. They’d been traveling, Mom and her aunt, and visited western Canada. My mom met Dad in a bar one night. She told me once how she hadn’t seen a man like him before. He was tall, broad, and tan, with thick hair and these perfect, white teeth. He screamed health and vitality to her, at a time when many people looked kind of bad. There was a lot of poverty, you know?”

  She nodded and then something struck her. “Wait, the twenties? That makes no sense, I mean…how old was she when she had you?”

  He smiled and simply said. “We live a long time, honey. I am actually pretty damn young compared to a lot of shifters, but I’m way older than I look. Anyway, with my parents, it was lust at first sight as if often the way with mates. As far as Dad was concerned, Mom only needed to look his way and his heart melted. She had these huge, violet eyes, and they showed each single emotion she felt. Dad fell for her right off the bat, but he knew doing anything about it would be a bad idea. But Mom pushed. And so, in the end, he gave in and they ended up in bed together.

  “Dad asked Mom to be his mate, and she agreed. They conceived me shortly after, but Mom still hadn’t let Dad turn her.”

  “Wait. What? Turn her?” She didn’t understand.

  “When we mate with a human, in order for it to be truly successful, the human needs to be turned. Into one of us.”

  The blood drained out of her upper body, leaving her light-headed and suddenly oh-so-cold. Brenin went on talking, seemingly unaware of her shock.