Authors: Ava Frost
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Werewolves & Shifters, #Angels, #Demons & Devils, #Ghosts, #Psychics, #Witches & Wizards
“Do you feel anything for me?” It was random and not at all what I expected him to say. “Like even a small connection?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“You are mine then,” He said sitting up, looking me in my eyes. Fear coursed through my body, I don’t know why, but I felt that my life was about to change drastically. What I was unsure of was if the change was good or bad.
“What does that mean?” I asked. He took both of my hands and begun tracing random patterns into my palms.
“Do you believe in true love?”
I thought for a moment and decided, “Yes, I do.”
“Do you believe in love at first sight?”
I nodded again.
“Shapeshifters have rules of life. A lot like humans. You know how you grow through puberty and things. The same sort of things happens to us, except on a time scale. I have 30 hibernations to find my mate, if I do not, I will lose my human form and turn forever into my bear form. A hibernation is every 2 eclipses. Hibernation represents the sleeping of one’s self.”
He paused, waiting to see if I’d jump in.
“How many hibernations do you have before you turn bear for good?
“I had one.”
“Had?”
“I’m a fighter and not all my fights have been honorable as a human or bear,” he said looking down, “every time I become a bear it becomes harder and harder to remember what I am, the better parts of myself at my core. I can’t access the best part of me without my mate. She grounds me to come back. I have never shifted so quickly to my human self before because I had never met my mate.” He tightened his hold on my hands, “and now I have.”
The pieces fell into place. Ian was talking about me.
“Ian, I feel something for you but it’s just attraction. You’re hot. I’m sure other women think so too.”
“They do, but none of them have ever brought out my bear side. I was born to find you, protect you and love you. You are the one. You are mine. I feel it, I can smell it, and I know it as sure as I know my name.”
“So you’ve been with other women?” I asked. Out of everything he said, I was hung up on the possibility of him making love to other women.
“Yes. But that was just an easy fuck. I can only make love to one woman and I’ve yet to make good on that promise.” The way he said that caused me to feel a fire from my breasts down. It was more than the heat of blush, it was the heat of arousal and something more. “Will you let me make good on that promise?” he leaned forward, whispering in my ear.
Against all odds, I nodded and he wasted no time. He nibbled my ear and inhaled my scent. He licked the sensitive place between my ear and my neck and I heard someone moan, not realizing it was me. His fingers were sliding slowly up my sides, pushing my shirt up along the way and I complied, raising my hands above my head. In just my bra, he kissed lower, placing kisses on both my shoulders, my neck, my collarbone, the tops of my breasts and then sucking a nipple from my bra into his mouth. His tongue was soft but the suction was hard, pulling me to him. The other nipple tightened under his pinching and pulling. I was whimpering, writhing under his grasp.
“Don’t stop.” I cried.
I needed to hold something and reached out for him, disappointed to touch cotton. I started yanking it, even if that meant pulling away from his skilled tongue. “I want it off.” I moaned as his hands went lower, playing around the top of my jeans.
“It’s not my turn yet,” he said, pushing me to lay down on the bed and kissing down my stomach. My back arched from the bed as his tongue explored my belly button. I was gasping for air and breathing in Ian. He unbuttoned my pants and kissed the top of my lace panties. He forced his hands into the tight space and cupped me. Then he fingered the lace, pushing inside me to test my readiness. I had been wet for him since the first day I saw him. Then in one quick motion, he pulled them both down so they were at my feet. I kicked them off so he could focus on himself. His shirt was off in one fluid motion and the sweats were down in another swift push. His dick popped free and my mouth watered. I grabbed him, sitting up to trace my tongue along the prominent vein.
He groaned and before he could stop me, I sucked him into my mouth, swallowing him as far as he could go. His hands were in my hair, fisting it and massaging my scalp. He pulled me back with dilated eyes.
“I need to be in you.” In his nightstand were condoms and I took one.
“Allow me,” I said holding the tip in place while rolling the condom down his shaft.
“Lay back” he sounded like he was talking through his teeth and I obeyed, ready to be with him.
He shouldered both my legs and leaned into my opening, the anticipation was killing me. Patience has never been a virtue of mine.
“Ian please,” I screamed and he drilled into me in one hard push. We were made for each other. He filled me up entirely and I had been hot and ready for him, fantasizing what this could be like. The small seed of connection I felt in his office built, blooming into possessiveness.
“Mine,” I screamed as he pulled back to thrust into me again. I arched up, waiting to meet him. Each time harder and rhythmic, his balls smacking against my cunt making me drip even more. “Yes,” I moaned, wishing I could do more. As if he heard my wish, he pulled out and flipped me over. I missed him even though it was seconds before he filled me again. His hands grabbed my hips so tight, I delighted in the bruises I knew I’d have tomorrow.
I threw it back as hard as I could, letting him explore me further than any man had ever done before. My eyes were seeing stars and I knew I was very close to falling over the cliff. He smacked my ass one time and I moaned in response. He slapped the other cheek and I came apart, face down into the sheet screaming his name. He pushed three times into me, causing both my ass and breasts to shake and came inside me. I could feel him bent over panting, his breath tickling my back. I moved back and fell to my side so he had room to fall next to me. Instead, he walked to the bathroom, I heard water running.
He returned quickly with a cloth wiping me off and kissing me in random places. They felt like butterflies, soft and flighty. I rolled over to watch him.
“Would you like to take a bath with me?”
“I would love to,” I said with a smile.
The gigantic tub I envied before was half full of water and bubbles. I understood the logic once both our bodies climbed in. The water rose to just under spilling over. Ian hummed softly and washed my back with reverence. He held up my hair up to wash my neck and plant kisses.
“You sing beautifully.”
“Thank you, love.”
“Do the guys know you can sing?”
I felt him shake his head no.
“I never had a reason to.”
I gave Ian a reason to sing. I couldn’t help smiling.
“What did you mean when you said you can smell that I’m your mate?” I asked as his long arms reached forward to wash my front.
He chuckled, “don’t laugh.”
“I make no promises.”
“You smell like honey.”
I laughed. “Wow.”
“I know right. Classic.” He asked me to stand. Naked before him, my blond landing patch inches from his mouth he asked me to raise my foot. I held his shoulder for balance while he washed both my feet and my thighs.
“What does honey smell like?”
“I can’t really say. Every bear I’ve talked to describes it differently. I suppose it’s up to the individual. Other bears’ mates smell like normal human beings to me.”
“Well, can you tell me what I smelled like to you?”
He glanced up, piercing me with his intense eyes. They were so hot, I felt the need for a cool glass of water. “When you stepped into the office, you smelled like something I wanted to eat.” His hands were on my hips, finishing his cleaning job. With a small tug forward, his mouth was on me and he tasted my honey.
He hummed into me while sucking on my clit. “God, you taste better than I imagined.”
With expert hands, he spread my legs farther apart and sat up to capture more of me. His tongue lapped me from my ass to my cunt in rapid succession. His hunger was apparent and he seemed deranged, moaning against me as if he was the one getting head. Our moans were echoing harmonies in the tiled room. One finger slid into me and motioned forward, he was telling me to ‘come here’ and I got the message loud and clear. My legs were trembling and for a second I hesitated knowing my knees would go weak but I was given no choice. His pinky slid into my asshole and I was undone, a puddle of liquid honey in his hands. He held me up and brought me down to sit facing him in the tub with only a slight overflow of the water.
“So good,” he licked his lips, sucked his finger clean, he smacked his lips. I sat with my mouth open. Ian was not joking. His eyes were glazed like he just had the best meal of his life.
I laughed. “I wish you could see your face.”
“Is there more on my face?” he smirked. “I don’t want to miss a drop.”
I dissolved into giggles again. “No sweetheart. You look as fine as you did before.”
His face changed to being serious and he sighed.
“What is it?” I asked. He helped me get out and in rapid succession washed himself to follow me.
“It’s time to take out the trash.”
Lounging in only a towel, I watched him dress. “I’ll be back. No more than an hour. Promise, and then I’ll be back to do some taste tests. I want to see if you taste better in my bed or in the tub.”
I dropped my towel and rushed over to grab clothes from my bag.
“You’re not leaving. That dirt bag owes me answers as much as you so I’m going with you. “
He grabbed my arm to stop me, “please stay here. This will get ugly, I don’t want you to see me like that and I don’t want you involved. You’re safer here.”
“But I am involved, Ian. In fact, I was involved first.” I said with my head and arms popping through the shirt holes. He looked worried so I paused to put both my hands on his chest. We stood like that a few minutes, him looking me in my eyes and me trying hard to communicate we were in this together. “I know I am the safest when I’m with you. Please let me do this.”
I knew I won when he bent down and handed me my socks.
“It can be cold where we’re going.”
*** Ian ***
We boarded the elevator, and despite previous feelings of joy I steeled myself. I calmed my mind and remembered who I was. I was a fighter, a warrior with a purpose. People come to me when they want something protected or found. In this case, it was both. I found Chloe’s stalker and possibly her sister, Amy’s killer and now I needed to protect her. We rode the elevator to level 6. As I told Chloe, it was filled with files. There were rows and rows of nothing but file cabinets. You’d be surprised what clients pay to have secured, their wills, forged birth certificates or citizenships. Sometimes it was just notes from a loved one they never wanted to lose. Or pictures they wanted to keep for themselves and away from their spouses. Humans were funny that way. There was only one door and so we walked to it. I punched in the key code, bent for the scanner to see my eye and on recognition it opened. Hamilton, who had previously been in front of Chloe’s stalker, moved out of the way. He sat with a black eye, bloodied shirt, and pants and was tied to a chair. While Anthony and John leaned against the wall. If this was like a typical mission for answers, they had taken turns in making him that way. The pants were probably because of me, back at Chloe’s apartment.
“Stats,” I commanded. I wanted this over as soon as possible.
“This is Matthew Hill,” Hamilton said, “Say hello,” Matthew said nothing until Hamilton smacked him against the head.
“Hello.”
“You’re already acquainted with the lovely Chloe Lewis so let me introduce you to my boss and your executioner, Ian Blackwood.” Hamilton fanned his arms as if he was the host of a party. “Say hello,” he menaced and without prompting Matthew again said hello.
“42, widowed, deceased son, no other family. Previously worked on Wall Street before losing it all on a bad bet.” Hamilton read from a manila folder and handed it over to me. I skimmed it, not caring to see his birthday, credit score or bank account information.
“Would you like me to tell your story or would you like the honor?” Hamilton asked Matthew. I wasn’t sure if this was a trick question or genuine kindness.
Matthew sighed so deeply, I could see in him the exhaustion I had felt before I met Chloe. “I will only say this one more time. When I am finished, will you do me a favor and make it quick? I have had time to make my peace with death.” I nodded, glad I didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news. He was going to die.
“I was once in love, married and my wife made me the happiest man in the world when she conceived our son, Ashton. He was perfect in every way.” Matthew looked straight ahead, at no one in particular. It was clear this story was not for us but for himself. His eyes were brown and haunted.
“When Ashton turned 5, he began to feel tired all the time. He complained his stomach hurt and so we took him to the doctor. My wife and I were heartbroken when they told us he had cancer. I was optimistic for a cure, so we did the chemotherapy. The hair that flopped when he was jumping for joy turned to limp tufts and bald spots all over until he asked us to shave it all off. The boy in love with life looked ghost-like as if he had already left us though we could still see him breathing. After a long year of fighting, he died and something broke inside of me. My wife, for some reason, blamed me. If I had paid more attention, if I had loved him more, if I had more money for more treatments, if I, if I, if I. She was right. Maybe I could have done more. Maybe I shouldn’t have been working in between his treatments. Maybe I should have worked more. All maybes but they didn’t bring my son back. The day my wife asked for a divorce she overdose on meds and drowned in our tub. After that, I sold the house and lived for some time as a homeless man. I felt nothing. I remembered that my son had some favorite toys in the hospital and I went to get them, hoping, in some way, it would bring me back to life.”