I couldn't help the growl that rumbled through my chest as I lowered my body over his, covering his smaller frame with my bulk. The contrast between us was stark—my olive skin against his paleness, my massive shoulders dwarfing his slender ones, my hands large enough to nearly span his waist.
Yet when I touched him, I did so with exquisite care, remembering my strength could so easily damage what I most wanted to protect. I traced reverent fingers down his chest, over his ribs, to the jutting bones of his hips. His skin was like silk beneath my calloused palms.
"I won't break," he whispered, reading my hesitation correctly. As if to prove it, he arched up against me, the friction drawing a hiss from between my clenched teeth.
The lights overhead flickered wildly, responding to his surging emotions. The refrigerator hummed an erratic melody, its digital display flashing random patterns. Even the oven beeped a staccato rhythm though neither of us had touched it.
"Your control is slipping, little one," I murmured, bending to taste the rapid pulse at his throat.
"So is yours," he countered, his fingers finding the slight points of my elongated canines that had descended without my permission.
He wasn't wrong. My bear was dangerously close to the surface, influencing my human form in ways I rarely allowed.
I felt the subtle changes—the sharpening of my teeth, the slight elongation of my nails into something closer to claws, the heightening of my already enhanced senses that made every gasp and moan from Mishka's lips sound like a symphony.
When I finally touched him intimately, his back bowed off the marble surface, a breathless cry escaping his lips. Every electronic device in the kitchen responded—lights brightening to an almost painful intensity, the dishwasher starting a cycleunbidden, even the digital thermostat on the wall scrolling rapidly through temperature settings.
"Fascinating," I murmured, stroking him slowly, watching his face contort with pleasure. "Your abilities are directly tied to your emotions."
"N-not the time for scientific observation," he gasped, his hips bucking into my touch.
I chuckled, the sound more growl than laugh. "On the contrary. I find it... extremely informative."
To prove my point, I bent and took his cock in my mouth, drawing another cry from his lips. The overhead light fixture swayed slightly, the bulbs within pulsing with unnatural brightness.
Mishka’s fingers tangled in my hair, alternating between gentle caresses and desperate tugs that sent jolts of pleasure-pain down my spine. The dual nature of it—tender yet demanding—perfectly embodied the contradiction that was Mishka.
When I pulled back to look at him, spread across my kitchen island with his pale skin flushed and his chest heaving, I was struck by an unfamiliar emotion. Possessiveness, certainly—my bear had claimed him from the moment I found him under my desk. But something else too, something I hadn't felt in decades, perhaps centuries.
Awe.
I reached for supplies I kept in a nearby drawer—experience had taught me to be prepared for all eventualities—and prepared him with careful attention. Despite my bear's impatience, I refused to rush this part, watching his face closely for any sign of discomfort.
What I saw instead was growing frustration as I maintained my careful pace. Mishka pushed himself up on his elbows, green eyes flashing with challenge.
"I told you, I won't break," he insisted, his voice steadier than it had any right to be given our activities. "Stop treating me like glass."
To emphasize his point, he reached between us, his slender fingers wrapping around me with unexpected boldness. The sudden contact nearly undid a century of hard-won control.
My growl was entirely inhuman as I pinned his hands above his head with one of mine, using my much larger body to press him back against the marble.
"You have no idea what you're asking for," I warned, my accent thick with desire.
His smile was pure defiance. "Then show me."
The challenge in those three simple words shattered what remained of my restraint. I positioned my cock at his tight ring of muscles and pushed forward, joining our bodies in one smooth motion.
Mishka's head fell back, a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob escaping his parted lips. The kitchen lights flashed like a lightning storm, the oven timer counting down from random numbers.
I stilled, giving him time to adjust, fighting my bear's demand to claim, to possess. His breath came in sharp pants, his pulse racing beneath my lips as I pressed them to his throat.
When his legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my lower back to urge me deeper, I knew he was ready.
I began to move, setting a rhythm that started controlled but quickly grew desperate as Mishka met each thrust with eager abandon. Sweat slicked our skin, creating a delicious friction where our bodies slid together.
The cold marble beneath him was a stark contrast to our heated flesh, drawing gasps from him whenever his back pressed against it.
"Nicolai," he moaned, my name a prayer on his lips.
