He doesn’t argue.
He doesn’t take it back, either.
Chapter 25
Grace
I wake to his warmth at my back. That part I know now, before I’m fully awake.
The rest of it takes me a second.
His cock throbs there, thick and insistent, pressed into the curve of my lower back. No shift or apology, just the steady pulse of it, heat bleeding through skin on skin. I go still, registering the weight and the way it nudges every time his breath evens out behind me.
A laugh slips out before I decide.
“Good morning.”
He grunts something that could pass for a reply.
“Is that for me?” I ask lightly, pressing against him.
“Depends,” he says, lips moving against my neck.
“On what?”
“On if you want it.” He pushes his hips forward, his shaft pulsing against me.
I lick my lips, sensation building between my thighs.
“Oh, I want it.” My voice has turned husky. I reach for him. His skin feels like it burns beneath my palms, his flesh toned and hard. I press back into his chest. The cot is narrow, but it doesn’t matter. Warmth covers every place we touch. Cold air waits in the gaps.
His hands move to my front, one arm banded over my torso, holding me against him, while the other hand explores me.
He starts at my ribs. Slow passes, palms flat, the bear’s heat pushing through. He runs hotter than I do. Every degree registers.
He works lower, fingertips trailing over the curve of my belly to my mound. Finds my clit with two fingers, circles once, then again, steady pressure that pulls a sound from my throat. His fingers dip in, one finger sliding through slick, then two, filling and stroking in the same rhythm. I feel it all at once—the pull outward, the push inward, the way wetness coats his knuckles.
I slide my hand down to cover his, and he grasps it, threading our fingers together, and guides it down. My own palm presses against the heat there, his fingers moving with mine so I can feel every stroke, every slide through the wet. The sticky sound is quiet but clear in the cave. I leave my hand there, feeling how soaked I am, how his fingers keep working without pause. I can’t tell whether it’s his thumb on my clit or my own, but either way, it’s making my toes curl.
“God!” I choke out. “Are you always this—?”
His fingers press harder on my clit. The sentence breaks.
He keeps the pace, learning what makes me push back, returning to it. My hips start to move without asking. I push into his hand, writhe against the fingers inside me, and the thumb circling above. The cave air sits cool on my skin, but I barely feel it.
He pushes two fingers into me, taking mine along with them, and I know what he’s doing this time. The steady stretch, the spreading. My breath comes in short bursts as he works me wide. Because now I know what to expect next. Him. All of him.
His thumb circles more firmly, and a jolt runs through me.
“Decker! Fuck!” My head is thrown back into the broad curve of his shoulder, my thighs clenching around his hand as I try to find the elusive sensation that would push me over the edge.
He waits. Waits until my back bows and my hips chase every pass of his hand, until I’m grinding down on my own fingers and his, chasing friction. He eases his free hand from where he’s been gripping me and cups my breast, tweaking and rolling my nipple until it’s hard and throbbing. The stubble on his chin grazes against the back of my neck, and a fresh wave of gooseflesh raises the tiny hairs on my skin.
“God! Oh, God! I need… I need… Please…” I’m begging now, but I don’t give a damn. I untwine my fingers from his and reach behind me, grasping his hip as I press myself back and grind against his cock. It slides between my thighs and bumps up against my pussy just short of sliding in, and I’m mewling with frustration. He’s using his fingers to spread my lips open, letting the heavy head glide along my seam until it nudges up against my clit. I tilt my hips to give him access, but he keeps up the steady sliding.
“Goddamn you, Decker,” I choke out. “Stop teasing and fuck me!” I’m grasping at him now, nails raking the back of his thigh as he keeps taunting me, so close and yet not there.
His response is a low chuckle. He lines up and thrusts in from behind, slow but relentless.
