Page 65 of Grumpy Bear

I silently vowed to make the most of whatever time we had left.

27

Luke

An all-day alcohol buzz, the adrenaline spike of performing, the intoxicating cuddle session, and then this shot of hope from the possibility of an audition… I’m sure Coleman was surprised by how aggressively I attacked him. I felt like I was on the verge of getting everything I ever wanted, and I’d already been blessed with this extra something I hadn’t even allowed myself to dream about.

Damn, that bonfire magic worked quick.

Emotion and energy were about to burst out of my skin, and I was aiming it all at him.

He gave in willingly. He allowed me to shove him up against the cabin door and pin his massive arms above his head as I stole the breath from his mouth. He could have flung me across the room with hardly any effort at all, but I dragged him to the bed and ordered him to sit.

Standing between his legs, I pulled off both our shirts, and he rubbed his beard against my stomach.

I pushed him onto his back and yanked off his shorts, dropping mine and kicking our pile of clothing out of the way.

“I want to do something to you.”

He looked up at me. “You don’t have to ask.”

“I wasn’t asking.” I pushed his knees back toward his chest and held them there, grinning at the wide-eyed shock on his face. “Keep your feet in the air.”

Coleman was about to say something in protest, but with an exhalation he dropped his head and closed his eyes.

I knelt on the floor, enjoying the sight of him spread out for me—thick meaty thighs, plump dick, hairy balls, and the pink tone of his taint disappearing into the crevice of his hairy ass. Fuck. His pale feet looked almost dainty and helpless, flopping above my grip on his legs.

I leaned in to smell him, savoring the way he jumped at the faintest contact—my breath on his balls, my nose in the deep crease of his groin, my tongue flattening to wet all that hair around his puckered hole.

He grabbed his own legs behind the knees and held them for me, his head rolling away so I couldn’t see his face as he exposed himself to me.

When I pointed my tongue and started pressing it into him as deep as it would go, forcing the ring of muscle to slacken for me, pushing spit into his ass, he started panting.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

The rimming wasn’t just reciprocation. It wasn’t even only for his pleasure. I craved the smell and taste of him. The more I had, the more I wanted. I needed to be inside him, to feel surrounded by his body in every possible way.

We hadn’t had any discussion about preference or position. The way Coleman carried himself pretty much advertised he was a top, and I had no objection to the way he’d taken that role last night. But he probably wasn’t used to having someone pay so much attention to his hole, and that thrilled me. There was power in it, an intoxicating satisfaction that my actions could elicit such a primal response in him. With the noises he made and the way his muscles contracted and shuddered, he was on the verge of surrendering to me and nothing turned me on more than physically subduing a man who was so much bigger and stronger than I was. He wasn’t tied up or restrained. It wasn’t role play. It wasn’t a head game. It was pure filthy desire on both our parts.

I pulled my mouth off him, wiping the wet smear of him from my beard with the back of one hand, and pressed the other thumb against his hole, testing the quivering barrier of muscle that hadn’t yet fully let me in.

I climbed between his legs and onto him, dragging my body low across his, reveling in the way his fur scratched my nipples. I rutted my cock alongside his, grinding into the hard shelf of muscle girding his lower belly. I captured his wrists above his head, exposing his beautiful bushy armpits and kissed him, sharing the taste of his hole.

I pulled back and studied his expression. My hair curtained his face, his eyes were dark slits, and his mouth was open and slack. “You good?”

He made a gurgling sound in his throat and smiled drunkenly. “Fuck. Your tongue felt amazing.”

“I think now would be a really good time to mention I’m versatile.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh really?” His purr was playful and encouraging. “Well, it’s been a while, Cowboy. Since I bottomed that is.”

“That’s not a no.”

He chuckled. “It’s definitely not a no.”

28

Sawyer