Bear Necessities
Page 46
For hours, he lay there, watching his mate, his lover, mark their future, the figures taking shape under her skillful hands. Every now and then, he’d smile, visions of what they both needed dancing in his head. He could picture the house he wanted for them, the way he’d come home after a long day and find his mate, all green hair and big sparkling eyes, waiting for him. A warm, loving smile would be on those full pink lips. Maybe they’d both get more ink, maybe they wouldn’t.
And sometimes he’d be the one standing at the door, waiting for his love, their cubs safely tucked in bed.
It was after midnight by the time she was done. She sat up, set the gun down and stretched. He heard popping noises. She’d been bent over so long her back crackled. “Take a look.”
He sat up and stared at himself in the big mirror over her counter. He kept his hands away, knowing he couldn’t touch, but damn if he didn’t want to. Her Wolf’s eyes practically jumped off his chest. “It’s perfect.”
He heard her snap off her gloves. “Let’s get you covered so we can get out of here.”
He turned, smiling when her gaze drifted down to his cock. “See something you want?”
She rolled her eyes but he could see the flush working its way into her cheeks.
“You’re going to have to be careful with your tattoo. You can’t really work up too much of a sweat for at least a few hours. You need to give it time to heal.” She frowned. “Wait. Can you heal it?”
He shook his head. “Nope. If I’m not careful, I could cause scarring. I have to let it heal naturally.”
“Oh.”
He reached down and stroked his erection, loving the way her eyes locked on his hand. “You know, we could always turn up the air conditioning.”
“Lie down so I can bandage you, horn dog.”
He chuckled and got back into the chair. His erection bobbed against his stomach. “Like this?” He raised his hands up until they clasped the headrest. He spread his thighs and waited to see what she’d do.
“I should have had you put your clothes back on first.” She rubbed the ointment into the tattoo with gentle hands, bandaging him up carefully. “You know the drill. You’ve gotten ink before. No soaking the bandages, mild antibacterial soap for washing, use A&D ointment. No Neosporin or it’ll scar.”
He nodded. He knew what to do, and if he fouled up, his own little artist would kick his ass to remind him.
“Are you just going to leave me like this?” He waved at his erection.
She folded her arms over her chest. “What will I get out of it?”
He grinned. “Orgasms. Lots of them.”
She bit her lip, looking like a naughty little girl. “If Cyn finds out about this, I’m in so much trouble.”
His hips jerked. “We’ll clean the place up when we’re done.” He hadn’t actually thought she’d go for it. He figured she’d argue, he’d get dressed and he’d take her back to the hotel room. Having sex in her chair? Talk about a fantasy come true!
Her smile was slow and languid, her eyes heavy with passion. She leaned down and took the head of his cock into her hot, wet mouth. “Oh, fuck.” He reached for her head, eager to guide her rhythm just the way they both liked.
“Nuh-uh. Keep those hands up, mister, or this stops.”
His hands latched onto the headrest. As far as he was concerned, they were chained there.
“Good boy.” She patted his hip and swallowed him down, taking him to the root.
“Oh, shit.” He fought to keep still. He didn’t want to choke her, but damn that felt incredible. He’d never had anyone take him the way she did.
Her head began to bob, her tongue playing his cock like a fucking virtuoso. He lost himself in the sensation of his mate pleasuring him. God, he’d never felt anything quite so good. The cool air of the tattoo parlor blew over him, the pictures on the wall reminding him of the art she’d done on other people. He’d have to get her to take a picture of his new work, add it to the gallery on the wall of her station.
Oh. Oh hell . That tongue of hers was a lethal weapon. She lapped at the head of his cock, long, languid strokes, tasting the drops of precome that dripped from him. He clamped down on the headrest, desperate to grab hold of her head and force her to take him all in.
This time it was her space, her show, and he’d be damned if he didn’t let her have that.
Tabby sucked him down again, watching his face through the fall of her bangs.
He looked so gorgeous with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, his lips pursed. She wondered if he was doing something to hold himself back, prolong the pleasure. Counting ceiling tiles, maybe?
She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to come now or if she wanted him to fuck her.
Her hands ran along the insides of his thighs, came to rest at the juncture of his groin. Her fingertips grazed over her mating mark.
She did her best not to give away what she was about to do. He looked so ready to blow. And he was being such a good boy.
She lifted her head and, before he could react, bit down on the mating mark.
He roared and practically levitated off the tattoo chair. Startled, she pulled back.
Bear looked out of Alex’s eyes. “Uh-oh.” The last time she’d seen that look, he’d bent her over the bed and claimed her most thoroughly. Her pussy clenched in anticipation.
This was going to be fun.
She found herself off the floor and screeched. Alex had her on the counter so fast it was dizzying. Her head hit the mirror, her legs were spread wide and he was ripping at her jeans.
“No! No shredding!” He paused. She had maybe two seconds to come up with something to save her jeans. “You want everyone seeing me bare-assed?”
He growled, the sound low and threatening. She hadn’t known it was possible to get even more turned on, but fuck that possessiveness of his was hot.
He undid her jeans and slid them down her legs. When he reached her boots he paused, the heat in his expression intensifying. “I love these boots.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he was lifting her again. She found herself on her feet, her back to him, her hands clenching the edge of the countertop. Her panties were pulled down, exposing exactly how wet she was. He nipped her ass cheek with sharp teeth before licking a long line between her cheeks. “No lube, so this will have to wait.”
And sometimes he’d be the one standing at the door, waiting for his love, their cubs safely tucked in bed.
It was after midnight by the time she was done. She sat up, set the gun down and stretched. He heard popping noises. She’d been bent over so long her back crackled. “Take a look.”
He sat up and stared at himself in the big mirror over her counter. He kept his hands away, knowing he couldn’t touch, but damn if he didn’t want to. Her Wolf’s eyes practically jumped off his chest. “It’s perfect.”
He heard her snap off her gloves. “Let’s get you covered so we can get out of here.”
He turned, smiling when her gaze drifted down to his cock. “See something you want?”
She rolled her eyes but he could see the flush working its way into her cheeks.
“You’re going to have to be careful with your tattoo. You can’t really work up too much of a sweat for at least a few hours. You need to give it time to heal.” She frowned. “Wait. Can you heal it?”
He shook his head. “Nope. If I’m not careful, I could cause scarring. I have to let it heal naturally.”
“Oh.”
He reached down and stroked his erection, loving the way her eyes locked on his hand. “You know, we could always turn up the air conditioning.”
“Lie down so I can bandage you, horn dog.”
He chuckled and got back into the chair. His erection bobbed against his stomach. “Like this?” He raised his hands up until they clasped the headrest. He spread his thighs and waited to see what she’d do.
“I should have had you put your clothes back on first.” She rubbed the ointment into the tattoo with gentle hands, bandaging him up carefully. “You know the drill. You’ve gotten ink before. No soaking the bandages, mild antibacterial soap for washing, use A&D ointment. No Neosporin or it’ll scar.”
He nodded. He knew what to do, and if he fouled up, his own little artist would kick his ass to remind him.
“Are you just going to leave me like this?” He waved at his erection.
She folded her arms over her chest. “What will I get out of it?”
He grinned. “Orgasms. Lots of them.”
She bit her lip, looking like a naughty little girl. “If Cyn finds out about this, I’m in so much trouble.”
His hips jerked. “We’ll clean the place up when we’re done.” He hadn’t actually thought she’d go for it. He figured she’d argue, he’d get dressed and he’d take her back to the hotel room. Having sex in her chair? Talk about a fantasy come true!
Her smile was slow and languid, her eyes heavy with passion. She leaned down and took the head of his cock into her hot, wet mouth. “Oh, fuck.” He reached for her head, eager to guide her rhythm just the way they both liked.
“Nuh-uh. Keep those hands up, mister, or this stops.”
His hands latched onto the headrest. As far as he was concerned, they were chained there.
“Good boy.” She patted his hip and swallowed him down, taking him to the root.
“Oh, shit.” He fought to keep still. He didn’t want to choke her, but damn that felt incredible. He’d never had anyone take him the way she did.
Her head began to bob, her tongue playing his cock like a fucking virtuoso. He lost himself in the sensation of his mate pleasuring him. God, he’d never felt anything quite so good. The cool air of the tattoo parlor blew over him, the pictures on the wall reminding him of the art she’d done on other people. He’d have to get her to take a picture of his new work, add it to the gallery on the wall of her station.
Oh. Oh hell . That tongue of hers was a lethal weapon. She lapped at the head of his cock, long, languid strokes, tasting the drops of precome that dripped from him. He clamped down on the headrest, desperate to grab hold of her head and force her to take him all in.
This time it was her space, her show, and he’d be damned if he didn’t let her have that.
Tabby sucked him down again, watching his face through the fall of her bangs.
He looked so gorgeous with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, his lips pursed. She wondered if he was doing something to hold himself back, prolong the pleasure. Counting ceiling tiles, maybe?
She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to come now or if she wanted him to fuck her.
Her hands ran along the insides of his thighs, came to rest at the juncture of his groin. Her fingertips grazed over her mating mark.
She did her best not to give away what she was about to do. He looked so ready to blow. And he was being such a good boy.
She lifted her head and, before he could react, bit down on the mating mark.
He roared and practically levitated off the tattoo chair. Startled, she pulled back.
Bear looked out of Alex’s eyes. “Uh-oh.” The last time she’d seen that look, he’d bent her over the bed and claimed her most thoroughly. Her pussy clenched in anticipation.
This was going to be fun.
She found herself off the floor and screeched. Alex had her on the counter so fast it was dizzying. Her head hit the mirror, her legs were spread wide and he was ripping at her jeans.
“No! No shredding!” He paused. She had maybe two seconds to come up with something to save her jeans. “You want everyone seeing me bare-assed?”
He growled, the sound low and threatening. She hadn’t known it was possible to get even more turned on, but fuck that possessiveness of his was hot.
He undid her jeans and slid them down her legs. When he reached her boots he paused, the heat in his expression intensifying. “I love these boots.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he was lifting her again. She found herself on her feet, her back to him, her hands clenching the edge of the countertop. Her panties were pulled down, exposing exactly how wet she was. He nipped her ass cheek with sharp teeth before licking a long line between her cheeks. “No lube, so this will have to wait.”
