Page 47 of Alpha's Claim
Fate, Icould’vebitten her. If I ever lost control of my bear around her, I could inflict serious damage. Hell, I could even end her life.
It’s enough reason to break this thing off completely when we’ve defeated Thompson.
Never.My bear roars to the surface.
I roll off Paloma before I do something I regret.
She gasps at my sudden withdrawal.
I stand beside the bed where my feet landed, my gaze drawn to my cum smeared between her legs. “Fuck, Paloma. I lost control. I didn’t use protection.”
“I know,” she says, calm as a cucumber. Are cucumbers calm? No, they’re cool. Well, she’s cool as a cucumber, then.
Agony over my mistake rolls over me. “I’ll get you a washcloth.” I head to the bathroom and get a warm cloth as she calls, “It’s okay.”
When I return, I find Paloma trailing her fingertips through my essence, using it to stroke herself, painting it all over her inner lips and clit, like she relishes being coated in my scent. Like she’s marking herself human-style.
I nearly lose it again, my bear tearing at the leash, dying to sink his sharp teeth into her delicate human flesh. I freeze halfway across the room to her, breathing deeply through my nostrils to force my bear back down.
Paloma watches me with heavy lids, still stroking, as if she gets off on torturing me this way.
“Fuck, I want you,” I mutter when it’s safe to walk again.
“You have me,” she purrs.
“It’s not enough.” I’m suddenly upon her, spreading those knees wide and using my tongue to help her distribute my essence over every millimeter of her sex.
She orgasms against my mouth, as if she was just waiting for my tongue to bring her to the finish line a second time.
I use the washcloth to clean her up, and kiss the apex of her slit, sliding my tongue in the cleft one more time.
She shivers and convulses again with another aftershock.
“You’re a bear,” she croons softly when I lift my head. She reaches for me, pulling my head up to her face for another kiss. “And what’s going on with your hair? Does being a bear make it grow super fast?”
“Oh.” I run my hand through my hair and find I haveFabio-length locks. “Maybe my bear thinks if I look like a Viking, I can claim you.”
Paloma’s laugh is warm and husky. She kisses me. “I have a million questions.”
“Yeah?” I settle beside her, tugging her to face me, so I can tuck her in close.
“Uh huh.” She scrapes her fingernails lightly through the hair on my chest. “How often do you turn into a bear? Is it a full moon thing? Or an anger thing?”
I shake my head. “Not a full moon thing. Yes, anger.” My hand finds her ass and squeezes. “And lust. But only with you.”
She looks up at me from under her lashes. “No one else?”
“Never. My bear never wanted anyone else.”
I watch the pulse at her throat quicken. She doesn’t seem afraid–that’s a relief.
“And to answer your question–almost never. My bear isn’t safe.”
“What do you mean?”
I shake my head. “I can’t let him out because…he rampages. I can’t control him when he’s out. It’s not normal–the rest of my brothers have control. It’s…there’s something wrong with me.”
Paloma seems to chew on that. My psychic knowing tells me it’s not true. Darius may not trust his bear, but the energy doesn’t read that there’s anything wrong with him. I let it go for the moment.