Page 12 of Just Right (The Beasts of Blackmoor #3)

B?RCHEN

“ H onig —”

Knowing that Finn will welcome me, even though—if he’s truly a virgin like he’s led me to believe—he might not quite understand my intentions (or believe that I mean them toward him, the youngest, sweetest of the brothers), I brush the back of my fingers along his erection.

There. In case he wonders why I didn’t just tiptoe toward the stairs instead of confronting him, here’s a clue.

Call him Sherlock fucking Holmes because he seems to understand exactly what that clue means. His hips buck, desperation to have more of my skin touching his obvious in the way he grits his teeth. He doesn’t move his feet, though his cock reaches for me.

I hiss out his name.

“No, my sweet. You are my Honig .” He’s panting softly.

Without even touching me any further, he’s slowly rocking.

He might never have fucked a woman before, but like most things in life, the act is instinctive.

He knows what he wants, but before he can have it, he has something he wants to tell me: his chosen name.

“And I am your B?rchen. Your ‘little bear’.”

Moving closer, I run my thumb over the crown of his cock, fingers tapping along the side of his shaft. “Little, huh?”

“Compared to my brothers, yes. And not just in age. Of us all, I’m probably the easiest for a sweet human mate to take.”

I take my hand back.

Hang on… why does he make it sound like he was the one to plan this. As though Colt or Rowan warned him, and now it’s just me and Finn alone… Finn naked, and me in his shirt… and the echoes of the fever still having me desperate to do just that and take him?

“Is that why you were in here waiting?” I demand. “Because of the fever? Someone needs to take care of their pet human, and since Rowan stopped Colt from making a move, and the bath didn’t quite do its job, now it’s your turn?”

“You were going to mate Colt?” His expression falls, though his erection doesn’t. If anything, his cock is straining toward me, desperate to feel my fingers wrapped round his girth again. “Would you rather go to his bed? If that’s what you want, Honig … I only want you to be happy.”

The earnestness in his tone has my sudden fury abating a little. The need is too strong, but I have to make sure he understands one thing first.

“Fucking you would make me happy,” I say bluntly. “But I’m not promising you that it can be anything other than sex. My body needs yours, Finn… B?rchen … but if you think that this is forever ? — ”

“One night with you will be worth all the lonely ones that will follow.”

I wish I could believe that. But after the talk of bonds and the forest wanting its due…

I fist my hand. “Why am I here?”

Finn is as smart as Rowan told me Colt is. He doesn’t act like he doesn’t know what I’m asking.

“Because the forest knows exactly who you belong to.”

“And who is that?”

“It depends on who you choose,” is the only answer he gives me.

He glances away, almost as though he’s sure that that will be enough to end this interlude between us.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

Choose… that’s what he said. Like it’s my choice.

Like, if I want to slake this lust, if I want to fall prey to this fever, I have to make the decision and stick by it.

True, I only have about two weeks before my time in Blackmoor is up.

And, looking back, the villagers always made it seem like there was a pretty solid chance I’d end up fucking one of the monsters.

It could be worse, right? I have a gentle, kind, honey-loving bear who is into me…

Finn will be the easiest brother to have some fun with, but that’s the problem right there.

I can already tell that he’ll be the easiest brother to hurt.

But if he can be satisfied with one night? Or maybe a few more before I go…

I snag his hand. “I’m going upstairs. I’d like it if you joined me.”

That’s all I have to say before, like his oldest brother, he’s swinging me up into his arms, carrying me right to his… my… our room.

Does he second-guess himself? Did my forward way of propositioning him turn him off somewhere between the living room and his bedroom?

I’m not sure. All I know is that, still naked, his chest heaving more from the promise of what I offered him than the exertion of carrying me upstairs, Finn sets me down on his feet, then starts to prowl around the room.

My fingers pause on the buttons to his shirt as I watch him go.

And it hits me. No. None of that is the problem.

The problem is that he’s a good fifty pounds heavier than me, at least six inches taller, and, oh yeah, a freaking bear .

I can see the panic in his eyes. He wants to fuck me more than anything else he’s ever wanted in his long life, but he’s afraid he’s going to either hurt me, or do it wrong, or mess up somehow.

I smile over at him. “I’m not going to break, Finn.”

His answering grin is crooked. “Is it that obvious?”

I hold up my fingers about an inch apart. “Just a little.”

He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry?—”

“Don’t be.”

“It just… I’ve never done this before.” He gestures at me. “And you’re so beautiful and perfect, and I want to make this worth it for you?—”

“You will.”

Finn shudders out a breath. “I’ve waited so long for you, Honig. What if?—”

There is no ‘what-if’s. There is only Finn, only me, and it’s not even the fever spurring me on to do this. It’s the attraction I first felt the moment we met coupled with the affection I’ve built for him in the days that have followed.

I want him.

I want this .

And if he’s going to stand there, coming up with every reason why we shouldn’t, well… maybe I need to stop him from talking.

Before he has any idea what I’m going to do, I march over to Finn. Going up on my tiptoes, I cup his jaw, tugging on him until I can reach his lips.

I kiss him. Slow at first because it’s clear to me that fucking isn’t the only thing he’s never done before, but when his tentative brushing of his lips against mine becomes a little firmer, a little more sure…

he might not believe this is happening, but he’s not about to do anything to stop it, either.

His lips are soft. Warm. He parts them just enough to let my tongue in, and I moan at just how sweet he tastes. He slides his fingers into my curls, a hungry noise escaping him. One part moan, one part sigh… and all Finn .

I match the sound as best as I can, and he deepens the kiss.

His other arm wraps around me, holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Like if he doesn’t touch me, he’ll fall apart.

I still manage to slip my hand between our bodies so that I can work on undoing the buttons on his shirt I’m wearing. Only once I’ve gotten it open, pressing my bare tits against him and he finally notices , does he break the kiss.

“ Honig ,” he whispers. “Please.”

I got you, Finn.

Shrugging my shoulders, I let his flannel fall to the floor. Now I’m just as bare as my bear is.

His bruised lips part again, mouth falling open. He stares at me like he’s truly never seen a woman before. Like he’s dreamed of this… of me … for all those lonely nights he mentioned before.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his slight accent becoming all the more noticeable as his voice drops into a husky tone.

I can’t help it. I kiss him again.

This time, there’s nothing gentle about it.

Sucking on my lower lip, he hoists me up. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, but instead of him just taking the initiative to impale me on his cock, he shuffles toward the bed until his knees are bumping up against the side.

Finn lays me out on top of his bed, hands shaking a little as he runs his palms over my hips and down my thighs.

Bending his head, he places a kiss on one of them, then the other.

I shift, hoping his mouth will go for my damp curls next, but though he starts rumbling softly, his next kiss is for my soft belly.

It’s my turn to murmur his name, followed by a throaty, “ Please …”

He pulls away again, and I have a frantic moment where I believe that this is as far as he’s willing to go.

I’d accept that, of course I would, but I won’t lie and say that I’m not even more exciting when he reaches into his nightstand, pulls out a small jar of freaking honey, then returns to his same position.

He twists the cap on the jar. Finger hovering over the honey, he asks, “Can I?”

My breath catches in my throat. I don’t know exactly what he wants to do with that honey, but— “Yes.”

Eyes brighter than I’ve ever seen, Finn smears a tiny drop of honey on the swell of my left breast, right above my nipple. He caps the jar again, dropping it near my ankles, then dips his head and licks it off.

My back arches, eager for more of his heat, his tongue, his touch… him .

Finn makes a low sound in the back of his throat. Almost like a growl, only softer, and it tickles my skin as he returns to the spot to swipe his tongue over my tit again.

I’m barely getting used to just how damn good that feels when he starts trailing lower, kissing his way south again. And this time? He heads right for the juncture between my legs.

To be honest, I didn’t expect a virgin to immediately decide to go down on me. I figured I might have to ease him into the act, but Finn… oh, no. As though his tongue is another extension of his cock, he buries his face in my curls, finds my entrance, and dips his tongue inside.

I cry out, and he braces his hands on my thighs so that I can’t escape him.

As if I’d want to…

He doesn’t just fuck me with his tongue.

He revels in the softest part of me, licking me like he’s worshipping my cunt.

It’s as though he’s long been starved, and the taste of my pussy is enough to sustain him.

His hands stay on my thighs, keeping me in place, but after his first few desperate licks, he slows down so that we can both enjoy it.

Of course, I’m already so keyed-up that I can’t last under such devoted attention. When I come—and I do, loudly and fiercely—I do so with his chosen nickname on my lips: “ B?rchen .”

My not-so-little bear.

His eyes find mine. I’ll tell you something. Satisfaction looks good on the youngest brother, but not as much as determination as he lifts his body, slowly positioning himself so that he’s over mine.

As soon as he’s on top of me, he locks his elbows so that there’s enough space between us that I can avoid him should I choose to.

Then, as though there’s any chance I would, he asks in a raw voice: “Are you sure?”

Am I sure?

In answer, I reach between our bodies and take firm hold of his cock. He hisses, and I grin as I guide him until the head of his cock is lodged inside of me.

That’s all I have to do. As though his body takes over from there, ignoring his brain, he starts to push. His first thrust is slow. Careful. Intimate . He braces himself with one hand now, using the hold to caress the height of my cheek as he slides in all the way.

Our eyes are on each other. I don’t look away from him as our groins touch. Neither does he.

In his dark gold eyes, I see the promise of forever and only wish I could return it.

I can’t. I know I can’t.

But what I can do?

Is make this a night he can remember.

It wasn’t fast. Our fucking… it wasn’t rough, either.

That’s not Finn’s style. However, the entire time he rocks up into me, the experience is so intense, it leaves me breathless.

And it isn’t just because he’s working his cock in and out of me, never pulling out too far as though he can’t bear for us to be separated.

His hand stays on me. He kisses my cheeks, my mouth, my throat, all while whispering my nickname like a benediction.

That’s not all, either.

“I’m yours,” he promises, over and over again. “Even if you go, Honig, I will always be yours.”

I believe him, too.

When it’s his turn to come, he gasps against my shoulder, burning his face against me, though he keeps his mouth closed so that his teeth don’t accidentally graze my skin. Still, he clings to me, like he usually does, as though I’m the only thing worth a damn to him.

Like he loves me.

Like I’ll shatter his heart when I go…

But that’s later.

For now, I just enjoy him while I can.