Page 9 of Her Beary Spicy Valentine (Welcome to Bear Mountain #2)

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mate! mate! mate!

holly

I didn’t mean to lunge at him. I swear I didn’t.

One second, I was clinging to my last thread of self-control, and in the next, it just… snapped. I tackled the Viking, knocking him flat onto his back.

“Mate…” My voice came out raw, animalistic, scrabbling inside my chest. I sat astride him, desperately dragging my pussy over his torso. “MATE… please!”

Yes! Mark him! Mark him! the feral voice inside me commanded, while my human side begged brokenly, “Please! Please!”

“See, Blondie? She’s not up for a rational conversation right now,” the biker said, his voice calm but laced with an almost clinical authority. He must have stood up—I could feel him looming over us. “We gotta take care of her first.”

“Stop. Please stop.” The Viking gritted his teeth and grabbed my hips, gently but firmly stilling them with his superior strength.

“I can’t stop!” My body fought his hold like a broken toy, helpless against the wildfire raging inside of me.

“She can’t stop,” the biker said coolly. “Her bear’s taken over.”

“She has to.” The Viking let out a frustrated snarl. “She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. We can’t just?—”

“She ain’t asking for an explanation,” the biker interrupted, his tone razor-sharp. “She’s begging for relief.”

“I don’t know what’s happening to me…. Why I can’t… I can’t…” My voice trembled, but my body didn’t care. The ache was unbearable, the need consuming me in waves that expelled more slick. The Viking’s ridged abs were glistening at that point. He could barely hold me still, I’d made his skin so slippery.

I turned to the biker, tears pricking my eyes as I gasped, “Please… make it stop.”

The biker’s face hardened, his jaw tightening as a new kind of anger flickered in his amber eyes. “She’s in pain. If you don’t give her what she needs, I sure as fuck will.”

His gaze snapped to the Viking. And we both stared at him, waiting.

The Viking’s throat bobbed, like he was swallowing down a piece of Eve’s apple. Then he said, “This is wrong. Takoda’s not here. We can’t just?—”

The biker ripped me from the other man’s grip, lifting me into the air like I weighed nothing. His amber eyes burned as he growled, “Fuck your first and third, baby. You’re second will take care of you himself.”

Suddenly, my back hit the cell bars. I was chest to chest with the biker, sliding down a cock even larger and thicker than it had looked behind his briefs.

“Here’s your help, baby.” The biker pulled my legs around his waist, his amber gaze adoring as his gravelly voice washed over me, hypnotic and soothing. He gripped one hand around the bars, the other digging into my bottom as he began to thrust with deliberate, driving strokes. “Take this medicine. Take whatever you need.”

I should have said no. I should have slapped him, screamed, done anything to stop what was happening after so many years of feeling the opposite of erotic. But instead, I clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder with abject relief. He felt so good inside me. Yes, medicine . That was the exact right label for this.

But… “I don’t even know your name!”

“It’s Hakan,” he answered, his voice strained as he continued thrusting. “But everyone calls me Hawk.”

“Hawk,” I repeated.

The predator name fit him perfectly. Yet, as his powerful body moved against mine, I felt completely cared for. He kept stroking into me, administering my medicine, until something inside me began to uncoil.

“Hawk! Hawk!” I cried out, my voice breaking.

“Aw fuck… I can’t take this, baby. You feel so good. Better than I ever imagined lying on my cot at night.” His lips trailed down my neck, lingering. What felt like sharp fangs grazed my skin.

“Don’t,” a voice warned, low and firm. “Don’t do it, bro.”

The Viking. He was back on his feet, standing close, his expression torn and censorious—even as his hand rubbed over the bulge in his briefs.

Hawk froze, his entire body going rigid as he grappled for control.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” His voice was raw as he pulled back, lifting his mouth from my neck. His amber eyes locked onto mine, burning with frustration and a hunger I couldn’t name. “Kiss me,” he whispered, almost pleading. “Kiss me so I don’t?—”

I swallowed down the rest of his plea with the kiss he’d requested. He was giving me what I needed, and something inside of me didn’t question giving him whatever he asked for, too.

What was I thinking? Letting this obvious criminal take me against the bars of a jail cell?

The answer was I wasn’t thinking . I wasn’t thinking about anything at all.

My ex, my entire history of men who’d never made me feel anything near this, faded away as I kissed the guy I’d only met minutes ago. Hawk .

Hawk was everywhere. Everything.

This was all sorts of wrong. But I didn’t want to be right.

It felt good. So good. I couldn’t stop, not even if I wanted to. And, I really, really didn’t want to. The ache swelled and radiated a warning.

Something was coming for me. A storm that made me scratch at Hawk’s chest and whimper against his mouth.

“It’s alright, baby, it’s alright.” Hawk pulled back just enough to speak, his breath warm against my lips. “I’ve got you. You don’t have to keep holding on. You can let go, baby. Come for me. Come all over this dick. Your dick.”

Mine!

The word snarled through my mind, but still, I tried to hold on. I sensed that whatever came after I released would resemble sanity, and I didn’t want that. I loved it here. I wanted to stay inside this madness forever.

“You have to do what he says, okay? Okay, sweetie?” The Viking leaned in beside us, even closer now. His thick wrist curled under my chin, pulling the side of my face to his mouth. He laid his forehead against my temple, his lips brushing my cheek softly. “I know you’re confused and scared, but you have to let go.”

If Hawk minded having another man speak to me and kiss my face as he thrust between my legs, it didn’t show.

“Come like a good girl,” Hawk commanded, driving into me harder. His amber eyes glittered with madness, his control fraying at the edges.

“Yeah, come,” the Viking whispered into my ear, his voice a husky coax. “Then we’ll explain everything. And I’ll take my turn.”

His turn . It was obscene—being told to come by one man while another held me so tenderly. But their words pushed me closer to the edge. I felt the storm building, rattling through me like a freight train barreling toward impact.

Then Hawk snapped his hips. Hit a spot I’d believed to be a myth.

Until now.

“Hawk!” I cried out one last time.

Then I shattered, my body convulsing as wave after wave of relief and something far deeper crashed through me.

Mine! The voice inside me sighed, contented, as I floated over a meadow filled with flowers, high and happy as a balloon.

“What did you do? What the hell did you do?”

The balloon popped. I dropped back down to earth with a thud, my euphoria replaced by an icy dread.

The Mountie stood on the other side of the bars, dressed in nothing but a fleece blanket, his expression murderous.