I undo the button, lower the zipper, and peel the denim down her legs. She steps out of them, leaving her in just her underwear and shirt.
Her thighs are thick and soft, marked with faint bruises from yesterday's fall. I kiss each bruise gently, working my way up.
She spreads her legs slightly, and the scent of her arousal hits me like a freight train. Fuck. She's wet. Already wet, and I've barely touched her.
The bear growls its pleasure, and I grip her thighs, kissing higher. Her skin is so soft, so perfect. I want to mark it, want to leave evidence of my mouth all over her.
"Rhett," she breathes, her hands coming down to tangle in my hair. "Oh God."
I reach her inner thighs, so close to where I want to be, and breathe in deeply. Her scent is intoxicating. So sweet and musky. The bear is practically vibrating with need.
*Taste,* it demands. *Need to taste her. Now.*
I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties and pull them to the side. And there it is. Pink and glistening and absolutely perfect.
I lean forward and run my tongue along her slit, and the taste explodes across my senses.
Holy fuck.
Is this how a fated mate tastes? Like heaven and sin and everything I've ever wanted but never knew I needed? I could eather out every single night for the rest of my life and never get tired of this.
She makes a high, keening sound above me, her fingers tightening in my hair. Her legs are already trembling, and I've barely started.
I do it again, slower this time, savoring every inch. My tongue parts her folds, finding her clit and circling it gently.
She cries out, her hips jerking forward.
"Oh fuck," she gasps. "Rhett, I—I need to sit down. My legs—"
She's already moving backward toward the couch, and I follow on my knees, not willing to break contact for even a second. She collapses onto the worn cushions, and I settle between her spread thighs, gripping them to hold her open for me.
"Perfect," I growl against her skin. "You're fucking perfect."
Then I dive back in.
I run my tongue back and forth over her clit, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her thighs try to close around my head. I inhale her scent with every breath, letting it fill my lungs, my mind, my very soul.
The bear is in ecstasy. This is what it was made for: pleasing our mate, making her feel good, showing her what it means to belong to us. I probe her entrance with my tongue, and she's so wet, so ready. Her body is responding to me like it was designed for this, for us.
I alternate between fucking her with my tongue and sucking on her clit, and her moans get louder, more desperate. Her hips are moving now, grinding against my face, and I fucking love it.
"Rhett," she pants. "Oh God, Rhett, I've never… Fuck!"
The curse falling from her sweet mouth makes my cock pulse. I'm so hard it's almost painful, straining against my jeans, begging to be released.
The bear roars its agreement. *Inside her. Need to be inside her. Claim her properly.*
But not yet. First, I'm going to make her come on my tongue. Going to taste her pleasure, feel her fall apart because of what I'm doing to her.
I suck her clit hard, and she screams. Her whole body goes rigid, her thighs clamping around my head, her hands yanking on my hair hard enough to sting.
And then she's coming, pulsing against my mouth, flooding my senses with her taste and scent and the sound of my name being torn from her throat.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced.
I don't stop. I work her through it, gentler now, helping her ride out every wave of pleasure until she's pushing at my head, oversensitive and trembling.
Only then do I pull back, looking up at her.
