Page 12

12

ALEX

A lex had been right about Orson being dangerous.

He was gorgeous and built, and she could have caressed his skin for hours without getting bored.

She’d guessed he would be good in bed, but she hadn’t expected him to be so much fun . He was there for her pleasure, and he tortured her with tickles and teased her to impossible heights before releasing her at last. It wasn’t mechanical or selfish; he was there, laughing with her, finding the places that drove her crazy, challenging her boundaries but respecting them, and at the end of it, she had no defense against him.

He cradled her close as they finished, his breath on her neck, his cock still throbbing inside of her as the aftershocks of bliss ebbed away.

“Alex,” he breathed near her ear. If he felt emasculated by the name, he certainly hadn’t shown it when he claimed her.

Alex loved how strong he was, how silly he could be, and how tenderly he held her, like she was a treasure, not a tempest.

“Alex,” he said again. “My mate. ”

The word resonated inside her. “Mate? Like…an animal’s mate?” He was a bear, Alex remembered, and that seemed the least insane part of all of this.

He brushed her hair back from where it had been tickling her face but she’d been too lazy and comfortable to move. “Like that, but also not. I’m a shifter.”

“That much is obvious.”

He chuckled. “It comes with some perks.”

“Like being able to change into a bear. I can think of times that would be useful.”

“I also have a shifter’s sense of instinct. It’s like a sixth sense that tells me when I’m walking into trouble, not that it can keep me out of it.”

“Like a bird’s ability to navigate? Or a bear’s need to hibernate?”

“Or like knowing when I meet the one person I’m supposed to be with forever.”

That, and the sweat drying on her skin, sent a chill running over her. Alex backed away on the bed. “Forever?”

What did that even mean?

Orson kept a hand cupped around her face. “Forever,” he said firmly.

Alex sat up, drawing back from his addictive touch, and folded her arms around herself. “We didn’t talk about forever.”

They hadn’t talked about anything. He’d told her to call him by his name and then kissed her, and she was simply lost.

“I’m not like this,” Alex said, scowling. “I don’t usually do this. I never do this.” Had she led him on?

“That seems to be a theme between us,” Orson said thoughtfully, rising to one elbow. “I’ve also been trying to be someone I’m not.”

“You’re not very good at it,” Alex couldn’t help but observe. Sandra would have pinched her if she’d been there and reminded her that she wasn’t supposed to insult the guy who could fire her.

Orson didn’t take offense, that easy smile on his mouth again. “Neither are you.”

Should she be offended? She wasn’t. “I’m going to take a shower,” she stated, getting off the bed altogether. She wasn’t blind to how he watched her, full of hunger despite what they’d just done.

“Do you want company?” he offered.

Her experience with sharing showers was that they were always smaller than they should be. There was a lot of elbowing each other accidentally and not being able to bend down to get the soap when it was inevitably dropped. But Orson was still naked, and gorgeous, and she wasn’t tired of his skin yet.

Alex shrugged one shoulder suggestively, and he scrambled off the bed with an undignified whoop to follow her into the bathroom.

It was a small shower, not a full-sized tub, with tiny hotel shampoo and conditioner in one corner caddy. Orson unwrapped the sliver of soap and lathered it up before he touched her, smoothing bubbles over everything from her neck down. There wasn’t room for him to bend over, so he knelt to soap her hips and legs, worshiping her slowly to her toes.

Alex returned the favor, frothing the soap in his chest hair before caressing his arms and shoulders and down his sides, lingering over his sexy hipbones and his taut ass. His cock, soft from use, stirred under her fingers, and she dallied there, stroking him and making him groan and clutch the safety bars. Alex knelt and soaped his thighs, tickling his knees, and washed his feet one at a time. This had her at just the right height to take his penis in her mouth and she couldn’t resist. It had rinsed clear, and tasted slightly rusty from the well water.

Orson tangled his fingers in her hair, clutching but not controlling, and she sucked and teased with her tongue as he swelled in her mouth. She dragged her teeth gently on the sensitive skin and took him deeper, reaching to squeeze his testicles and scratch his thighs.

He was hard now and seemed impossible to hold in her mouth. Alex released him with one last lick. He drew her up and pressed her against the tile wall of the shower as he found her pussy and drove in.

He held her there effortlessly, pumping slowly into her, kissing and gently biting her neck. She didn’t think she could ever tire of his steady rhythm, holding her right at a crest of excitement, even while she craved a little more, a little faster, a little deeper. Instead, he pulled out.

“Orson…” she begged, even though she never begged. “Please…”

He shut the water off, but Alex didn’t care. She was already overheated, and clawing at him with new need. He opened the shower door, turned to bend her down on the rug, and entered her from behind. This new angle had her coming at once, clenching and biting back her cries. He rocked her through that orgasm, and another, before he became frantic himself and spilled into her, hot and hard and erratic.

They laughed together afterward, lying on the floor soaking wet and spent.

“This isn’t me,” Alex protested. “I don’t have fun like this.”

“I think this is entirely you,” Orson countered, kissing her. “And you’re absolutely perfect.”

But Alex had a stab of doubt. Would she regret this in the morning?