Roaring Up the Wrong Tree (21 page)

He stared at the placid water, remembering that day, the red stain that lingered before being washed away by the gentle lapping caused by the rising wind.

“How”—he swallowed hard and tore his mind back to Trista—“how will it help you, Tris?”

A grin teased her lips, one that surprised him while brightening his heart. “I have to depend on you to not let me drown.”

Drowning. He wanted to drown in her, sink into her and let her cradle him. He was shattered on the inside, shattered and damaged and broken and… For the first time, he felt a hint of hope, a glimmer that he could almost be normal. Almost. He had no delusions that he would suddenly be perfect and calm like his brothers. But with Trista’s help, he could be less inclined to strike out. He was sure of it.

So, he let her draw him toward the shore, feet stopping when they approached the very edge of the water, and then her hands were on him, tugging on his T-shirt and encouraging him to whip it over his head. Just as she undressed him, he did the same to her. He slipped button after button free until their arms were a tangle and one of them would have to stop. He voted for Trista. He wanted to unwrap his mate, expose every inch of her pale, curved body to his gaze.

“Let me…” He brushed her hands away and reached for the last button that held her hidden. The moment it gave way, he urged the fabric to part. “Damn.”

A blush coated her skin, starting in her cheeks and slowly making its way down her body, stroking her plump breasts and sweet stomach. He followed its travels until the pinkness ventured beneath her shorts. Then he returned his attention to her breasts, to the lacy fabric that covered her. Focus shifting from her chest to eyes and back again, he reached for her. There was no catch between her breasts, but that didn’t deter him. With a whispered request to his bear, his animal gave one hand claws. His human hand eased the cloth away while the bear’s paw sliced through the silken material.

Trista gasped, but no scent of fear drifted to him. No, it was all sweet and musky arousal. He wanted to feast on her, take his time and taste every inch of her body. Next time. Definitely next time. This place, right now, it was perfect for them.

The cups parted beneath the weight of her mounds, exposing berry hued nipples that seemed to call for his lips and tongue. His mouth watered and a strangled moan escaped his lips.

“Tris…” He ignored the whimper of need that escaped him as he cupped them, weighed them in his hands and brushed his thumbs over the hardened nubs.

Thankfully his sound was echoed by hers and more of her heated scent reached out to him. Her hands slid over his, encouraging him to knead her flesh and tease her nipples. He wanted more than that, wanted to taste and nibble as well.

Nibble… He’d do more than nibble soon.

That thought spurred him to move on, encouraged him to nudge her touch aside as he drew the tattered remains of her bra and soft shirt from her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist. A sudden gust sent a scattering of goose bumps over her skin, but they disappeared almost as soon as they’d arrived.

Next he reached for her shorts, flicking the button with practiced ease. He hooked his fingers over the cloth, ready to push them past her hips and down her legs, but he paused and looked to her again.

“Trista?” It was her call, her choice. Always.

“Please, Keen.” The plea was evident in her eyes.

Without another word, he nudged the material and it fell to the ground with a soft whoosh, exposing her fully to his gaze.

“Gorgeous. So goddamned pretty.” That blush resurged, and she really did pinken from head to toe. “Do you know how beautiful you are? All sweet and sin?”

“Keen,” she whispered and he yanked his attention from the juncture of her thighs, from the patch of closely cropped curls that begged to be discovered, teased, and tasted. “Your turn.”

She gave him the same treatment, to the tug and push of his jeans, to the sound of his clothing falling to the ground until he stood nude before her. He hoped he didn’t disappoint her, hoped she was satisfied with him as her mate. He wasn’t normally so fucking self-conscious, but she was his and above all, he wanted her happy.

Women wanted him, but he wanted
her
to want him. The flare of pleasure in her gaze told him that she was more than content with what she saw.

“C’mon, Tris. Lemme make you mine.”

“Please.”

*

Trista begged. Plain and simple, she begged. He was gorgeous, all cut muscles and smooth skin. His body rippled with every movement, with every contraction and release as he stepped out of his flip-flops and jeans. He helped her do the same, pausing to lick and press his lips to her skin. He growled and moaned, tasting his way down her legs and then back up as he assisted her. One particularly long, sweet kiss to her mound had her whimpering as her knees went weak.

Later. Later she’d beg him to lick and taste her there, beg for that pleasure. For now, they needed to heal, needed to repair the damage life had wrought and come together as mates.

Slowly he retraced his path with his lips, moving beyond her pussy and over her hips. He paused, flicking first one nipple and then the other, with his tongue. A bolt of pleasure zipped through her and she gasped. She wanted more of that, more of everything.

His lips continued higher, pressing against her collarbone, ghosting over her neck, and then finally settling over her lips. His kisses were like wine, sweet and drugging. Over the days she’d come to love each one they shared.

Standing now, his full length brushed her hip. He was aroused and on edge… because of her. Plump, sometimes plain, Trista. She rejoiced in his attraction and desire, internally dancing because her need was returned.

Finally he pulled his mouth away and stared down at her with midnight eyes. His breathing came in heavy pants as he fought for air. No, he wasn’t unaffected at all.

“C’mon.” She snagged his hand and tugged. She took a step into the cool water, toes curling, and winced when the ball of her foot connected with a sharp rock.

Before she could even voice her pain with a low “ouch,” Keen swung her up into his arms. She released a high-pitched squeak at the sudden move while he just chuckled and shook his head.

“I’ve got you. Trust, remember?” His voice was a deep, bone-melting purr.

“I remember.” She twined her arms around his neck. “How far out are we going?”

“Deep enough for water to cover you. I shouldn’t have let you strip on the beach.” He growled, flashing his teeth. “I don’t want anyone looking at you.”

“So, you like me a little bit?” She grinned and he narrowed his eyes.

“More than a little.”

Leaning forward, she rubbed their noses together. “I like you more than a little, too. Now, why don’t you show me?”

With a snarl that didn’t scare her in the least, he increased his pace, striding further into the water until it met his chest. That meant there was no way her toes would touch the bottom.

“Keen,” she murmured and he smiled.

“I won’t let you drown. You’re too important to me.” His eyes caressed her. “Trust me. Just a little. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Trista released her deathly hold and cupped his cheek. “I do. I wouldn’t mate with you if I didn’t.”

“Good.” He brushed his mouth across hers as he relaxed his hold, moved her body as he desired and then her legs wrapped around his waist.

His long, thick hardness was nestled against her pussy, the cool water of the lake doing nothing to diminish her heated need for him. He cupped her ass, his large hands covering her globes as he kneaded and squeezed her flesh. Each press transferring sensation to her center, arousing her further.

Then he… Trista shuddered as he lifted and then lowered her in a gentle rise and fall. His length stroked her clit, nudged her hole, and then repeated the process. Shards of bliss assaulted her, forcing gasp after gasp to pass her lips.

“Keen.”

“I’ve got you,” he grunted. “Take what you need.”

She squeezed his shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh, but he didn’t seem to care. No, he was intent on her, entirely focused, which only served to increase her desperation.

How much time passed? Seconds? Minutes? She had no idea and didn’t really care. Not when wave after wave of joy filled her veins and consumed her. Her pussy clenched and quietly begged to be filled while her clit rejoiced in the spears of lightning his touch created.

But, but, but… she needed more, needed him.

“
Keen.
”

“What do you need, Tris?” he grunted, his face tightening further and further with every slip and slide.

“You, only you.” She gasped and arched, depending on him to keep her from floating away. And he did. He tightened his hold, shifting one arm to brace her back, but still her pace didn’t slow.

Then his hold changed, his grip tightened, her body was raised… Keen brought her down on his cock, his thick length filling her in one thrust and a scream tore from her throat. Not one of pain, never of pain with Keen, but one of pure undiluted pleasure. His dick stroked her inner walls, ignited nerve endings that’d lain dormant and sent a rolling wave of ecstasy through her.

With the rapid penetration, she arched her back and stared at the sky, the sensations of his possession overwhelming her. The hand between her shoulders moved to wrap around the back of her neck. Gentle pressure had her attention dropping to focus on Keen, on his black eyes and the brown fur that lined his cheeks.

“Oh, Keen…” She mirrored his hold, pressing one palm to his neck while the other cupped his cheek. They remained frozen, stares locked as he encouraged her to ride his cock.

She catalogued his expressions, each emotion that flitted across his face. One after another battled for supremacy, but she latched onto the one that so closely mirrored her own. One that hinted of love even if the feelings hadn’t settled into the lasting emotion.

Its presence encouraged her and she let her body fall into the whirlwind of sensations his shaft gifted her.

Each glide up stroked her while each fall had her clit nestling against him. The pleasure pinged through her, lighting her blood on fire.

“Yes. Yes…”

He grunted and snarled, flashing a slowly elongating fang. Yes, the bear was with them as they sought their mating. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

The next rise was slower, slower than any others, but her descent was anything but. It was a fierce, rapid tug that tore another scream from her throat as pleasure fell upon her in a tumble of bliss. “Yes.”

He did it again, slow ascension and fierce descent.

“Yes.”

Again.

“Yes.”

And again.

“
Yes.
”

Trista was going out of her mind, lost in the pleasure and need, but she wanted more and more and more.

No matter his rough pulls and jagged pushes, she craved more of him. And she wasn’t afraid to beg.

“Please.”

He opened his mouth wide, saliva dripping from his bear’s fangs. In a threat? Was he trying to scare her away from the beast? That wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

“
Please.
”

*

Keen couldn’t resist the temptation she presented. She was slick skin and plump seduction and he wanted more of her, he wanted everything.

This connection, this meeting of bodies, wasn’t enough for him, not nearly enough. He needed them tied together tighter than anything before.

Which made him sound like a stalker, like he was crazed, but he didn’t care. Not when it came to Trista.

Her pussy milked his shaft, squeezing him in rhythmic tightening that seemed to beckon his release. But he held off by sheer force of will. He wanted her to come with him, to scream as he sank his teeth into her shoulder and mated her. He wished she could do the same to him, bite him and claim him just as he claimed her.

Then she smiled at him, gasping and whimpering while he continued to slide her along his shaft, and he didn’t give a damn about who bit whom and when.

“Will you come with me?” He hardly recognized his own voice, the bear having pushed forward so hard that the human had ceded some control. The bear had endured his half-life just as much as the man. They should both claim the female who would live at their sides until the day they died.

“Yes,” she gasped as he yanked harder, slammed her down on his dick. “Oh God, yes.”

He did it again, loving how she rippled around him, how her eyes darkened and the way pleasure transformed her face from beautiful to luminous. He didn’t think he deserved her, but he’d take her anyway.

“I’m gonna…” A low mewl escaped her throat.

Keen didn’t slow, didn’t alter his pace or the strength of his movements. Not when she was so near the edge. He didn’t want her pleasure to float out of reach, not when her glazed eyes shone with the promise of ecstasy.

His own body reacted to her responses, his balls hard and tight against him while his cock twitched and throbbed inside her sheath. Yes, he wanted to come, to fill her as he sank his teeth into her flesh.

Soon. Soon. Soon.

As her gasps and moans increased in volume, as her chest heaved even harder, her release neared. He fed off her pleasure, drank her desire, and allowed her enjoyment to drag him in her wake.

She opened her mouth, fighting for air, and flashed her teeth. She licked the blunted white fangs that filled her mouth. Without an animal, they weren’t sharp and fierce like his, yet he still wanted them in his flesh.

“I want you to be mine,” he snarled, his bear taking over as he squeezed the back of her neck. “
Mine.
” The aggression he normally carried was directed at her, but instead of anger and rage, it was pure need and desire that spurred his animal into action. “Belong to
me.”

He opened his mouth wide, exposing his fangs fully, and she didn’t shy from the threat. No, she released him long enough to brush her hair aside as she tilted her head. His goal was exposed, pale and glistening beneath the bright warmth of the sun and the coolness of the wind.