Page 50 of Bear and Book

I set my keys down on the table and turned, only to find Leo still watching me, his gaze soft but heated.

“You okay?” Leo asked. His voice was gentle, like he already knew I was two steps from bolting.

I swallowed, forcing myself to nod. “Yeah.”

His lips curved, the kind of smile that wasn’t cocky or smug, just tender. Before I could second-guess it, I stepped closer, reached for him, and pressed my mouth to his.

The kiss was slow, deliberate and not the frantic clash I’d half-expected.

His lips moved against mine with patience, coaxing rather than demanding, and that patience undid me more than anything else could.

My hands found his chest, broad and solid under my palms, and when he deepened the kiss, my knees nearly buckled.

Leo tasted like warmth, like honey and something darker underneath, addictive and grounding all at once.

My fox pressed forward, desperate to close the distance, and I let it. I let myself lean into him, fingers curling in his shirt as if he were the only thing holding me up.

I let him back me toward the couch. We stumbled, half-laughing, half-breathless, until I tumbled back against the cushions with him braced above me.

His weight pressed me down, solid and warm, and my fox purred with delight. I threaded my fingers into his hair, tugging him closer.

I kissed him until the world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the brush of his tongue, the steady, grounding weight of his body.

When his lips trailed to my throat, lingering against my pulse, a shiver ran through me. I tilted my head back, granting him access, a small gasp escaping when his teeth grazed my skin.

My body arched toward his without thought. My hands roamed, memorizing the planes of his back, the flex of muscle under his shirt, the warmth of him everywhere.

Clothes became a blur. A shirt tugged off, fingers fumbling with buttons, laughter breaking through the heat as I cursed a stubborn zipper.

Every layer shed made the connection between us sharper, the hum of the bond louder.

By the time we made it to my bedroom, I was already half-undone. Leo laid me down gently, but when I pulled him over me, the hunger in his eyes said he knew exactly how badly I wanted this.

The first touch of skin against skin was electric. Every brush of his hands, every kiss down my chest, felt amazing. My fox keened at the intimacy, curling around his bear with fierce joy.

We took our time. Slow kisses, long touches, every movement laced with both want and care. He let me set the pace this time and I happily did.

I got on fours, groaning when Leo closed his fingers over my aching member and stroked me until I was on the edge. Then my mischievous bear pulled away, leaving me panting.

“Leo, I need you inside me. Now,” I said.

“Bossy,” Leo said with a chuckled.

Nonetheless, he positioned himself behind me.

He lubed me up and the next thing I knew, he was sliding himself inside me. I groaned, loving the feel of his hands on my hips. Then he rode me to oblivion.

Just when I thought nothing could top our first time, Leo had proven me wrong.

“Faster,” I urged and Leo complied.

And when we finally came together, it wasn’t frantic. It was deep. It was the kind of intimacy that shook me to my core, the kind that felt like my soul was being stitched back together.

I clung to him, gasping his name like it was the only thing that mattered.

When it was over, we collapsed into each other, sweat-slicked and breathless, tangled up in the sheets.

My head rested on his chest, his heart pounding steady beneath my ear. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me close, holding me like I was already his.