Mated to the Wilde Bear

Chapter 12: Laurel

“You’ve always hidden yourself,” Xavier said. He sounded awed by it but underneath the words, power rumbled.

Laurel ducked her head. “Until now,” she admitted.

“You don’t ever have to hide yourself from me,” he said, and the authority of his alpha rang through the words. Laurel’s animal curled around the protectiveness in him, cuddling closer.

The way he spoke of letting her animal be seen… she’d dreamed of this but never had it with anyone. She found herself smiling softly.

“What is that look for?” he asked.

“Say it again,” she said, inching closer to him.

His arm tightened around her. “You don’t ever have to hide from me,” he said and pulled her close.

She sank against him, her nipples brushing his chiseled chest. She sighed, reveling in the delicious tingle that ran through her. How long had it been since she’d let herself be like this with a man? Years, certainly.

“I know we got off to a rough start, you and me,” Xavier said, his voice gravelly and breathy against her temple.

“I was cold to you. It’s my version of professionalism, a way to remind men I’m equal. I’m sorry I was rude.”

“I’d like to start over,” he said.

She ran a hand up his arm, trailing her fingertips over his massive bicep. He shuddered, and she thrilled at the reaction she’d pulled from him so easily. “Me too,” she said.

He drew her chin up, so their mouths hovered an inch apart. “I mean really start,” he added. “I didn’t want to, didn’t mean to feel this way for you, but my animal, it’s—”

“Drawn to you,” she finished for him, and his eyes danced, the blue darkening to a steel gray.

“Show me all of yourself, Laurel. The real you, no pretending. No hiding anymore.”

Laurel’s breath caught. Her fox rose up, practically begging for this. In the back of her mind, fear threatened to ruin it. To make her second-guess the trust required to give herself this way. But in the end, she knew she couldn’t resist. Not when her animal had so clearly already made the choice for her. Desire was a physical ache inside her. Besides, there was no denying it. She knew Xavier could smell her pheromones on the air.

She leaned against Xavier and dragged her bared breasts across his chest as she drew herself up against him. Friction sent delicious waves down her body, and she pressed harder until they were aligned from chest to knees. Xavier’s erection pressed against her belly, taunting her with its pressure. If only she could feel its weight a little lower…

His hands still hovered, cupping her elbows, giving her plenty of room to make the moves. He was barely touching her, not even guiding her along, and still, her knees shook with how badly she wanted him. She’d had boyfriends, sure. Nothing serious. And none of them had ever made her feel like this. Like being here, showing herself, giving herself to him was everything.

The rest of the universe faded away. In that moment, it was only them. Only Xavier. He wanted to see her so she would show him. And she wouldn’t hold back.

She wound her arms up and gripped his shoulders, letting her expression convey all of her feelings. She held tight and rolled her hips against his hard-on, a reflexive reaction to the need building between her thighs. Xavier’s mouth crashed over hers. He took her fast, claiming kisses, and Laurel offered herself eagerly for more. She kissed him back recklessly, half-terrified this would end any second, and she’d have to go right back to the solitary life she’d lived before tonight.

When his tongue dipped inside her mouth, tracing lines over her lips, she whimpered. “Xavier, you have me,” she said, breathless, as he trailed kisses over her jaw and down her throat. “All of me, please.”

Her center ached, and already she could feel the wet heat gathering. She needed him inside her. She’d beg and plead if necessary.

Xavier growled from deep in his throat and scooped her up, lowering her on her back underneath him. The grass was cool against her skin, but Xavier’s hands lit a fire everywhere they touched. Laurel shivered from the heat that burned at her center, practically sizzling the dew against her back into steam.