Page 67 of Smut Lovers

Chapter Two

I struggle and wiggle in Bear’s arms, but he grips my legs firmly so there’s no possibility of escape.

At least part of my resistance is because I like it how his thick fingers clamp around my upper thigh.

Bear marches up the stairs and down two hallways until he comes to a door at the very back of the inn. He slides a hidden key from the top of the door frame and unlocks the knob.

Once inside, my captor drops the key on a dresser. He manages to light an oil lamp one-handed and adjusts the flame so I can see the sparse little space.

The room can’t be more than ten feet by ten feet, and houses only a dresser, a chamber pot and water jug, and an oversized bed.

There isn’t even a window to indicate how long we’re here. It was still early in the night when he stalked into the pub and demanded my attention, but we could be here for hours and into the next day and never know it.

Bear slides my body down his when he sets me on the ground. He thrusts a knee out so that my skirt lifts and my center drags against it, and it remains there as he traps me against him with those strong arms and that broad chest.

Focused eyes peer down at me, the same overconfident grin taunting me for giving in so easily.

He studies my mouth intently as if he knows all the secrets I keep concealed behind closed lips.

Hands slid down my back and palm my ass. He uses them to grind my core against his firm thigh between my legs.

If he makes me come like this I will never forgive myself, so I close down and try to think of literally anything else.

I’ve never had someone effect me so strongly so quickly. It doesn’t feel by design. There’s nothing contrived about the interaction.

It’s just him being him, and somehow that’s even more enticing.

Bear studies me in fascination and desire. His mouth falls on mine, and it’s every bit as overbearing and demanding as his hands on my ass and his arms bracing me tight. The short beard rubs against my face, but I don’t mind it. It’s just long enough to have grown soft.

He even tastes like crisp, salty sea air.

My eyelids droop at his attention. I’m not resisting, not really, and instead let him control the terms as he requested.

When the kiss finally ebbs, he studies me in the dim light.

“There’s my good little fawn. I’m going to let you go, and then I’m going to lay down on the bed. I want you to remove your dress, hang it over the footboard, and then straddle my face so you can brace your hands on my chest when it gets to be too much.”

“I’m not doing that,” I splutter.

“Yes, you are. You’ll use my face to find your first orgasm of the night.

If you don’t direct it yourself, as I’m guessing you won’t, then I’ll feast on your pussy until I pull an orgasm out of you so strong you’ll agree to whatever else I like—because you’ll know I’m right, and that giving me control is more fun than pretending you don’t enjoy it. ”

Bear releases me, and I stagger backward at the loss.

Metal clinks and leather whooshes as he unlatches his buckle and he pulls the belt free. His eyes are dark as he pulls his shirt from where it’s tucked into his pants.

My mind reels and trepidation makes my legs shaky. The earlier uncertainty roars back to life.

This isn’t what I asked for.

Or is it?

I don’t know anymore. When he asked me if I liked control, I didn’t consider the question too closely. Now, in this dim room with the pressure of my choices directing my actions like a squall in sails, the night feels out of control.

A knock comes at the door, and it shoves me out of the silent spiral.

Fuck. The entire tavern room saw him carry me up here. The barkeep probably wants to make sure I’m okay. The old man may not know who I am, but he’s seen me in his tavern enough times that he watches over me.

Bear goes to the door. A soundless conversation ensues as he takes both our coats from the barkeep on the other side.

The older man glances at me, but only sends me a two-finger salute before turning to the hall.

The lack of concern reinforces that I’ve made the right choice for the night.

The lock on the handle clicks into place. Bear hangs our coats on hooks on the wall.

As he turns back to me, he pulls his shirt overhead and fastidiously folds it into a neat square.

I can’t help but drool at the sight. He’s built and burly, with broad shoulders and a dense, muscular chest covered in a triangle of short, coarse hair. Intricately woven images in greys and blacks spread over his back and shoulders, but it’s too dim to see what they are.

Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

With a last look at me, he steps to the bed, plops the shirt down, tosses the pillows to the end, and stretches out on the soft surface.

“ Now , little fawn. Straddle my face or you’ll find that my control can be simultaneously pleasant and unpleasant.”

I yip at the command and quickly do as I’m told. I fold the dress longways and hang it off the footboard, but can’t find the courage just yet to strip off my undergarments.

Bear watches it all from his reclined position with his hand gripping his crotch and lust plain on his face. We might have just met, but it’s obvious he’s planning something.

His adamant gaze brushes briefly over me from head to toe, then languidly examines every inch as if he’s memorizing the details of my figure.

I approach tentatively, and that wicked grin grows into a smile.

“You can remove your panties or I can tear them off with my teeth.”

I gasp. “Must you be so direct?”

“Would you prefer that I lie? Hide that I’m dying to taste you, to have you come all over my face?”

I wind my arms around myself. Most men are so much easier than this. I take them upstairs, we undress in near-darkness, have our bit of fun, and I disappear.

It’s why I ventured out all those months ago. There are no expectations from the men I spend my limited free time with. They don’t ask anything of me but my pleasure, and I give them nothing but the same in return.

It’s a few, finite hours where the weight of my position is lifted. I can exist without a single question to answer or task to perform that I don’t want to do.

Why must he demand this be so personal?

Bear studies me and my sudden skittishness.

“I’ll take care of you, little fawn. Have a minute to breathe and think through why you’re here. If you decide you want to go back downstairs, I won’t stop you.”

He tucks a hand under his neck, and it makes his abdomen tighten.

No, I want this, even if there’s a measure of trepidation.

Because it’s mixed with eagerness.

Awkwardly, I slide my panties off and let them drop to the floor, then take my time loosening my stays before it meets the same fate. His eyelids shutter in a way that makes me feel both anxious and flattered.

“Knees wide,” he directs when I’ve climbed onto the bed. His broad shoulders bring me so low to him already I’ll barely have to sink down. My fists fall on the sides of his ribs for balance.

I’ve had men go down on me, with middling success, but never has a man instructed me to essentially sit on his face.

It feels too intimate. Too new. He doesn’t realize he’s crossing into new territory.

Or maybe he does. Hot breath teases the sensitive skin at the apex of my thighs.

When I’m too slow for his liking, he uses his arms to force my knees wide around his shoulders.

“Use me, little fawn,” he says, the words dense with desire.

Tentatively, I lower myself so my most intimate place is within reach. Bear cranes his neck and laps at my core. The brush of his tongue surprises me, and I cry out. He chuckles against me.

“Don’t be so timid,” he chides. “Sink down. Grind your pussy on my face.”

He abruptly lifts me and resituates us to hook his arms over my calves. We’re tangled up in each other, with his hands lingering on my legs and his mouth is directly even with my center.

Well, in for a penny . . .

I lower myself closer to his face and tilt my hips against him.

He rumbles a, hmmmm that makes my core tighten.

“Lower,” he murmurs beneath me. His lips and tongue caress my pussy, but he’s right that I’m not committing to this as fully as I need to.

He lets me struggle through my indecision for a full minute before he chuckles.

Wide palms grip my thighs and yank my hips down, making me cry out.

And he dives into his task.

Bear grips my legs and directs my center so deep against his face I worry he’ll suffocate.

His mouth works my clit, his tongue rolling around and then over it in a constant pattern that has me doubling over. His nose and face move against my opening as he does it, the longer stubble on his cheeks rubbing my inner thighs.

My hands land on his chest, exactly like he predicted. When I can’t help but dig my fingers into the hair and clutch at it, the satisfied vibration from his chest makes my legs quiver.

Bear eats me like I’m his favorite meal, his face fully covered by my cunt and smothering him with my arousal.

He licks and laps and sucks with so much fervor it’s like he’s attempting to literally eat me alive.

The sensation floods endorphins and adrenaline into my veins, the white-hot pleasure radiating and reverberating in every limb.

Angry red lines raise where my nails scratch across his forearms. He shuffles his shoulders again, spreading my legs wider so I can’t resist sinking more onto him.

Bear no longer needs to hold me in place, his insistence pushing me into fully committing to his request. I moan and hold onto his arms for dear life as he ardently kisses my pussy.

The experience is surreal. I’m on top of him, but he controls every sensation. My body burns hot, my thoughts slipping away while I tumble into the ecstasy he coaxes from me.

I sink into my big bear and let him have his fill. It’s freeing, in a strange kind of way. He doesn’t ask, he just does , and somehow that’s so much better.

I don’t have to make a single choice because he’s already made them, and I know he’s decided based on how best to satisfy me.