Page 23 of Bruised MC Bear

If that’s what she wanted—wild, raw sex in the shower—that was exactly what he’d give her. At the moment, need and desire overtook his exhaustion, and all he wanted to do was hear his name echo around that tiny shower stall while he took her hard. So when she wiggled out of her boy cut panties, he pushed off the sofa, removed every shred of clothes and stalked into the bathroom.

He didn’t say a word. He just picked her up and stepped into the standing shower, letting the stream of water cascade down between their bodies. He pressed her back against the wall and ignored the glaring fact that protected sex in the shower was just not possible. Not that it mattered for him. As a shifter, he was not susceptible to any form of disease, including STDs. Sure, he could knock her up, but that possibility was too far outside his current realm of primal consciousness.

Angel didn’t protest when he lowered his head to her breasts and bit down gently on one nipple. She didn’t ask him to stop when he lifted her up slightly to position himself. And she didn’t put up a fight when he gripped around her waist and sank his cock deep inside of her. In fact, she helped, wrapping her legs tightly around his hips, arms around his neck, hips tilting along with his rhythm each and every time he drove into her. And that sultry whimpering cry she let out in between pants and pleas for him to fuck her harder. Mutual craving was a damned good thing.

For a brief moment, Angel held on to his shoulders and pulled her head back just enough to lock eyes with him. He didn’t stop. He plunged into her tight, wet heat, admiring the look of longing mixed in with a fiery, piercing stare told him that she wanted only him, even though she was sure to deny it if he ever asked.

The next second, Angel’s hands were fisting his hair, and she pressed her wet mouth onto his lips. Every muscle in his body went taut as she kissed him just as fiercely as he fucked her, capturing his tongue and sucking, clashing their teeth together in a rough and rugged display of her need to dominate. She arched her back and jerked her hips, fighting for control. Her tight inner walls clenched along his shaft, taking pleasure as she gave him. As much as he enjoyed her effort, Angel needed to know he was the boss.

Eventually.

Right now, his cock ached to explode within her with every thrust. As he pounded into her, she dug her nails into his back, whimpering out that she was close to coming, breaking the skin as though she had sharp claws. Within no time, she cried and shook and seized, falling apart through her climax right up against the shower wall. Axe did what he’d been hoping to do since he fought off those idiot panthers who tried to steal her away from him. He gripped the hair at the back of her head, fisted a thick handful, and took her ruthlessly. Her back was sure to have a bruise tomorrow.

Soon, the pressure in his groin had built up to soaring heights. His muscles tensed and jerked. Before he could stop himself, he bit down on her shoulder, sinking his teeth into her flesh without breaking the skin. Angel shrieked from the shock, or maybe she just loved it. The sounds of her cry mixed in with the slapping of their skin as he plunged into her one or two or forty more times drove him past his limits until he was sure he would let out a bear growl through his orgasm.

Axe groaned through clenched teeth as he came, burying himself to the hilt, not caring that his seed was coating her inner walls.

No. He cared.

He wanted this, probably from the second he had laid eyes on her.

He had marked her, and taken her raw and hard. Now she was his. His cock jerked at the vague, primitive thought as he filled her up, and when Angel looked down into his eyes, it was as though she understood that truth. She dislodged her nails from his back and lowered her head to rest on his shoulder. Slowly, Axe pulled apart from her, letting her down his body until her feet were back on solid ground. Angel craned her neck up to look at him, saying everything with her eyes, not needing words, letting the water wash them clean again.

As they stood there under the hot flowing stream of water, Axe had only one feral kernel of thought.

Protect what was his.

Nothing else mattered.