Page 44 of Titan’s Mate

His smile got wider, and there was a little flush across his cheeks. She absolutely loved how sex talk made this big tough guy blush, just a tiny bit. He said, “I don’t know, but I’ll try.”

“The first time I saw you was here in this clearing, placing one of those markers on a grave. And I could tell it was a serious religious moment for you, but you were naked and I couldn’t stop looking at your peener.”

He threw his head back and laughed, the way he so seldom did. She loved his laugh, loved being able to coax it out of him.

He kissed her lightly, and then more intensely. The touch of his lips set her on fire, the way it always did. He pulled back slightly and whispered, “I’m naked now.”

“Mmm.” She kissed him again because she could. “I wasn’t actually paying attention to that earlier, but now that I’m sitting on your lap and we’re talking about pervy stuff, I’ve kind of started obsessing about it again. Does that make me a bad person?”

“This crew is full of bad girls,” he said. “Truthfully, I’ve kind of wanted one of my own.”

He stood up, still holding her, as if she weighed nothing.

“You don’t have to carry me,” she said. “I can walk.”

“I like carrying you.”

He carried her all the way back to the cabin, her legs locked around his waist, pausing every now and then to kiss her, sipping at her mouth, gnawing gently on her lower lip and teasing the sensitive inner skin with his tongue.

When they got to the cabin he went in through the rolling door, closing it behind them, and carried her straight through the curtain of vertical plexiglass strips that divided it from the living area. He didn’t even pause, just continued up the stairs and into the bedroom. He reached behind him and pulled off her shoes, one at a time, before standing her on the bed. For once, she was taller than he was.

His face had grown serious. “What do you want?” he asked her. His voice was husky, and his hands were still on her, splayed across her back. She stroked the muscles in his shoulders, reveling in his strength.

“Everything,” she whispered. “I want everything.”

He smiled slowly, holding her gaze, and then reached for the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled up over her head. Her hair spilled down her back and he combed his fingers through it. “I love your hair,” he murmured. “And I love your dimples.” He kissed each one softly, making her melt.

Then he pulled her bra straps down, one by one, kissing each shoulder in turn, running his tongue across her collarbones. He kissed his way up her neck, finding the places that made her gasp and sucking them slowly, kissing them after.

Mari swayed into him, relying on his strength to hold her up. She raked her fingernails gently over his skin, and heard him hiss in his breath.

Her giant bear liked to feel her claws.

Titan reached around and undid her bra, and she dropped her arms to shake it off her shoulders. He gathered her breasts into his hands, obviously drinking in the sight of them.

“You have the most beautiful breasts.” He kissed each one. “The most beautiful body.”

His words, his gaze, warmed her all through. She’d never felt this sexy before. Xióngmāo tended towards the cute and roly-poly. But as Titan ran his hands over her body, totally intent, she felt his need and desire deep down inside her.

He bent his head and laid his cheek on the pillow of her breasts, the silk of his hair running down her skin, and just breathed her in, eyes closed.

Then he cupped her breasts again, trailing kisses over her heated skin. “Perfect,” he murmured.

His lips found her nipples, and he lavished attention on them until she melted into him, her knees nearly buckling.

But he was there, never letting her fall. He skimmed his hands over her back, then inside the waistband of her pants. He slid them down slowly, running his hands over her hips, her thighs, her ass. “I never get tired of looking at you,” he said. “Do you know how hard you make me? One look. That’s all it takes.”

He scooped her up and laid her out on the bed. He was obviously telling the truth—his erection was huge—taut and hard as sculpted stone. Hot desire flashed through her, pooling between her legs, making her nipples stand up in little pebbles.

But it was the look on his face that took her breath away. There was more than desire there. More than want. There was need, raw and aching. And hope—the desperate hope that the raw edges inside him could be soothed and healed.

By her.

Touching her. Holding her. Being inside her.

She reached for him, and he slowly lowered himself down beside her and worshiped her body. Every inch of skin, every hill and valley, every place that could make her feel wanted. Needed. Adored.

He touched each one with his fingertips, his palms, his lips, his tongue. Finally, when she was filled with a desperate longing that matched his, he moved his mouth between her legs, where she was wet and slick and needy. Kissing, stroking, swirling his tongue, he brought her to the trembling edge—and kept her there.