Bear Exposure (Highland Brothers 3) (3 page)

S
triker didn’t tell
her which room to take, but she opened the first door she could find and closed it behind her. She’d get the luggage later. She pressed her back to the door and let out a breath.

Holy hell. He had kissed her until she didn’t think she could walk. His tongue. His hands. They were fiery and doing all kinds of things to her they shouldn’t.

Sure she could walk again, she crossed the room and looked at her reflection. The cut on her cheek was held together by the bandage he had applied. She inspected his work. Even with this he had said she was beautiful.

She ran her hands over her body. Her full hips, her heaving breasts, the soft flesh on her thighs. This wasn’t possible. She was probably in a coma or still dreaming. Men like Striker Highland didn’t think she was beautiful. No, she attracted crazy wolf shifters.

She shuddered. At least this place was in the middle of nowhere. They wouldn’t find her here. But what if they did? What if Colton’s pack was looking for her? What if they knew she had driven off on her way to Seattle?

She started to shake. How close had she become to being eaten alive or taken as some kind of sex slave? Her fingers rattled.

Her phone rang. Shit. It was Colton. She sat on the bed, dreading the voicemail he would leave.

Trembling, she held the phone to her ear. “Baby, you’ve got me worried. Now I’m looking for you.”

She heard a knock at the door and jumped so hard she almost landed on the floor.

“Presley, your bags are out here. Good night. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Wait,” she called. She crossed the room.

She could blame the wine. She could blame the intense fear running through her body. She could blame a possible concussion. It didn’t matter, the words came out.

“Can I stay in your room tonight?”

H
e stared
into her beautiful blue eyes. He heard the words, but he didn’t believe it.

“You want to stay with me?” he asked.

She nodded. “Please. I promise I won’t steal covers or anything.” She lowered her eyes and that’s when he saw the shaking. Her lip trembled and her shoulders shook.

It was instinct. He pulled her against his chest. “Yes. You don’t have to explain.”

He told his bear to back off. She needed warmth. She needed protection. She needed rest.

As her head rested against his heart he felt her relax into his arms. “I know it’s crazy, but I can’t stop shaking.”

“Shh…no, it’s not crazy. You were in an accident. That would rattle anyone.” He brushed her hair from her face. “My room is the next one over. Why don’t you get changed?”

She pushed off his body. For a second he thought maybe she had changed her mind. That all she really needed was a hug.

“I’ll be in in a few minutes.” She pulled the suitcases into her room, then closed the door.

Striker looked at the closed door. His bear grumbled. He didn’t want to cuddle and comfort. He wanted to claim the woman that was meant to be his.

Striker walked down the hall. His room was at the opposite end from his brother Crawford’s suite. Crawford had practically taken one whole end of the upstairs converting one of the adjoining rooms into his design studio.

Hudson’s suite was on the first floor. That left this wing for Striker to convert to his master bedroom. He shoved the door open. It had been awhile since he had been here. The room felt cold.

There was enough wood in the hearth to get a fire going. He stacked the logs and within minutes stood back to admire the blaze. He listened for Presley’s footsteps and then ducked into the bathroom.

He turned the shower on. If he was going to make it through the night without taking her, he needed a cold shower. He opened the glass door to turn the handle.

He imagined what it would be like with Presley as his mate. He knew nothing about her, only that his bear was aching for her. It was more primal than anything he had ever felt.

He stepped into the cool water and waited for it to ease the heat being near her created.

S
he crept down the hall
, looking for Striker’s room. There had to be a hundred rooms in this place. It was silly and desperate, but the only time the fear didn’t rip through her was when he held her. She needed that tonight. Maybe more.

She had slipped into a thin T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts she liked to sleep in.

She tapped on the door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door squeaked open. Striker sat on the edge of the bed. His pajama pants fastened low on his hips. No shirt. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Holy hell.

Presley felt the heat from the fireplace. “You built a fire?”

“I didn’t want you to be cold. It looks like we’ve lost power.” He flipped the light switch as if to prove there was no electricity.

If he was trying to quietly seduce her, he was doing it. She felt her heart melt into a puddle.

“Thanks.”

She walked to the bed. It was huge. Plenty of room to sleep on one side.

She pulled back the covers. She had never done anything like this before. She had never slept with a stranger. She had never had a one-night stand. She barely kissed guys on the first date. Although, she didn’t know how to categorize any of this.

Striker turned off the lamp and wiggled in next to her. She wasn’t expecting him to pull her against his body. She immediately felt the hard ridges of his shoulders. The strong planks of his chest. She sighed.

“Does this help?” he asked, tucking a hand around her waist. “Is the shaking getting any better?”

She nodded. She felt safe. She felt completely protected. But she also felt something else. Her body was tingling. Firing all over. She tried to quiet the nerves in her core.

She took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He brushed her hair from her neck. His breath gliding over her skin. “I want you to feel safe.”

She closed her eyes. She was reacting just from his words. Her hips lightly scooted back, so she was touching his waist.

He inhaled sharply. The hand Striker had wrapped around her waist began to move. It was slow at first, as if he was trying to soothe her, but within seconds it was sliding below the band on her shorts.

Presley caught her breath. Could she really do this? Let a man she didn’t know touch her? Hell yes she could. She moaned as his fingers dove between her legs. They slid between her, rubbing until she opened her legs for him. It was like a desperate reflex.

“Do you like how I’m touching you?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

Her head thrashed to the side and Striker immediately sat forward, pulling the shorts from her legs. Her eyes flashed to his, but he was staring between her legs. He gripped her panties, yanking them over her hips.

“Ohh,” she groaned as he spread her legs. It was heated and impatient.

His fingers moved, toying over her nub. Her hips rocked into him, wanting his fingers inside her. She clasped the sheets in her hands when he finally slipped a finger inside her, bucking her hips from the bed.

“You’re so wet,” he growled.

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.