Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
The primal power of it was through with waiting.
He saw his Pasha bear in ways he’d never seen or known another being his entire existence. And he knew Pasha saw him in turn. Their hearts and souls exposed, stripped to the core in a feral glory that demanded everything.
They stood shaking in the aftermath, their bodies slick with sweat.
When Pavel shifted them drunkenly to the bed, Arwen went. They collapsed onto it side by side, his right hand linked to Pavel’s left. Arwen stared at the ceiling for a full minute, until the sparks in front of his eyes were no longer a meteor shower. Then he turned to look at the bear whose chest was heaving beside him. “Wow.”
The dimples flashed.
It still took three minutes before they could breathe properly again.
At which point, Pavel rose up on one arm to look down at Arwen. “Mine,” he said smugly, and, one hand splayed on Arwen’s abdomen, took Arwen’s mouth in a kiss that was all possessive bear—wet and deep, tongue and sexual heat.
Arwen’s breathing was ragged in the aftermath, but he found himself grinning, too. “Mine,” he said, and leaned up to bite down on the curve of Pavel’s neck.
It wasn’t strictly a bear thing, the neck biting, but he’d figured out that his bear liked a hard bite or two. Now, Pavel groaned and ran his hand lower down Arwen’s body, to the bulge in his jeans. “I think you got the wrong size.” A teasing murmur that made goose bumps erupt over every inch of Arwen’s skin. “They feel a bit tight.”
Arwen might blush now and then, but he wasn’t a virgin anymore. Though that memory? Of Pasha so playful and gentle with him? Of caresses soft and kisses upon kisses, of a bubble bath and scented oils? He’d carry that in his heart to his grave, a treasure of tenderness from his rough-around-the-edges bear.
Holding Pavel’s wicked gaze, he played his bear’s sexy game. “Guess you better take them off, then.”
“Guess I better.” A flick of his hand and Arwen’s pants were undone, his zipper lowered.
Arwen went to lift his butt so that Pavel could pull off his jeans to throw them aside. Except instead of doing that, Pavel dipped his head to press a kiss on Arwen’s pecs. “Look at all this sleek muscle.” Another kiss, the caress of claws. “Mmm, I could eat you up.”
“Pasha.” Arwen wove his fingers into the thick silk of his lover’s hair. “I love you until it hurts.”
“Good,” said the bear whose own love was fur over Arwen’s senses, a knowing that his empathic heart snuggled into with delight. “Serves you right for making me crazy for you.” This time, the kiss held teeth.
Laughing, aroused, and delighted at the same time, he watched as Pavel finally got rid of the too-tight jeans. His formfitting black underwear didn’t last much longer—and neither did Pavel’s clothes.
Skin on skin, lips on lips, they sank into intimate skin privileges with the giddy wonder of lovers who knew this was it.
Mates were forever.
“My beautiful luchik sveta.” Growly words, Pavel’s big hand on one of Arwen’s more slender thighs as he braced himself over Arwen on his other arm. “You light up my world.”
Cock engorged to breaking point, and heart stamped with Pavel’s name, Arwen hauled him down with a hand on the back of his head, and bit down on his lower lip. That got him a bearish rumble, and a kiss as raw and untamed as the man in his arms.
His man. Forever.
Empaths could be smug, too.
By the time Pavel scraped Arwen’s throat with his teeth before saying, “Where is it?” in a tone gritty with need, Arwen wanted only to have him inside him, the two of them connected in the body as they were in the heart and the soul.
“Side pocket,” he gasped. “Overnight bag.”
Moving with a speed startling if you didn’t know bears, Pavel was back with the slender tube in hand two seconds later, all gleaming skin and taut muscle. “Delicious Berrylicious flavor? Seriously?” He groaned as he read the label. “I can feel my extremely manly balls shriveling up.”
“You have nothing to worry about. You’re hung like a bear.”
A burst of laughter deep and familiar and oh-so-loved, and then the maligned lube was being put to good use. But today . . . today, the lust was secondary. Today, Arwen cried because they were mated, the bond between them a thing of claws and fur with a dusting of diamond gray, shining yet soft.
“You never told me it would be so beautiful,” he whispered.
Pavel buried his face in Arwen’s neck as he curled around Arwen from behind, his powerful body beginning to move inside Arwen in a rhythm that was no longer smooth. “I didn’t know.”
Arwen tried to speak, lost his words.