It’s a command, but with just enough hesitation that I realize it’s also a question.
Chest swelling with anticipation and something that feels dangerously close to infatuation, I only nod.
I dip my chin lower, to let his thumb graze my lips.
They part. My tongue darts out just enough to press against the calloused pad, mouth watering at the idea of sucking on it—onanythingreally. Though I have one particular thing in mind.
No longer gentle, the bear straightens and comes forward to the very edge of the cabinet. It feels like I’m going to slide off until he angles me back so that I can rest on my elbows.
He drags the head of his cock through my soaked folds, prodding my entrance as a whine of need slips from my lips.
“Please,” I half-whisper, half-gasp, trying to inch myself forward.
With a wicked smirk, he plunges forward.
It feels so good it almosthurts.He’s thick, stretching me deliciously, earning a cry of surprise and pain that quickly turns to a moan as he sinks all the way in. His cock nudges my cervix, hits that pain-pleasure point, before he withdraws only halfway and thrusts again.
The pace he sets is bruising.
He’s so big I can feel his shaft throbbing every time he bottoms out, my pussy squeezing around him as I whimper. His hands grip my thick thighs, relishing every jiggle as he pounds into me.
His hand slips up my thigh. His thumb brushes my clit.
He grunts, catching himself against the cabinet as he fucks into me, free hand toying with my clit punishingly until the orgasm crashes over me in a way that I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
The room goes dark.
The only sensation I feel is a ripple of pleasure from my core to my toes and the top of my head. My back arches, hips jerking as it feels almosttoosensitive, and he pulls his hand away quickly.
In the moments that follow, he thrusts fast but shallow, murmuring curses in another language, eyes closed behind the cruel bear mask until he comes.
It’s wet heat inside of me, an agonizing stretch that draws a satisfied moan from my lips as my head tips back.
When it’s over, the bear produces a dark handkerchief from somewhere in his cape-like jacket. He cleans me up efficiently, his touch firm and careful at the same time.
I stand on shaky legs, gripping his upper arms. My satin dress is adjusted until the tear almost looks like an intentional slit up the thigh, exposing the expanse of flesh that he keeps his eyes on until I feel another throb ofwantat my core.
But there’s no way; I’m not even sure how my body took him just now, and I wonder if this is how women end up sore and satisfied the next morning.
His dark eyes find mine. I lick my lips, close to asking his name—close to asking if I can see him again, until I remember my sister’s warning.
Don’t embarrass me, Roxy.
The last thing Kat needs is for whoever this man is—he’s clearly wealthy, clearly used to getting what he wants—thinking I’m some kind of gold digger trying to attach myself to him and his fortune.
So I clamp my mouth shut and watch as he bangs twice, hard, on the metal front of the cabinet.
There’s a grinding sound a moment later.
The vault door opens. The bear straightens.
I understand what this is; a parting. He must be just as taken aback as I am by what just happened. By the fact that we found one another here, at The Gilded Range.
Taking a few steps away toward the waiting guard, I can’t help glancing over my shoulder.
He’s a hulking figure in the vault. Intimidating, ominous, but also… lonely.
Headlights flash across the dark lobby. Two guards in the vault wrench open the marble slab, and the bear turns, jacket swirling around his hips.
