Page 67 of Trusting Her Bear

“Yes,” he says. “Hold tight, baby.”

I prepare. But I don’t know how I could prepare fully for the fucking Quinn, my Daddy, gives me. Over and over. He is wrapped around me, through me, inside of me. My legs have fallen completely open to accommodate him, allowing him to control the movement.

I attempt to move my hips to meet his, but he growls low and shakes his head sharply, so I lay passive. Giving him what he wants. What I want. To be thoroughly taken by my mate.

He drops closer, my breasts pressing to his chest.

“Daddy,” I pant, ready to come.

“Not yet,” he says, placing his lips against mine. “Hold on for Daddy a little longer,” he says right before he kisses me.

I think I would do anything he wants. Tingles radiate from my hair to my toes and everywhere in between, and a low pull in my stomach demands release. But I hold on. I wait and enjoy every thrust of his cock, and the swirl of his tongue with mine, and his calloused hand on my skin. His forearm presses in between my breasts as he changes the angle.

He pulls back. “Such a good, Little Cub. You held on for your Daddy,” he praises, and warmth expands in my chest. “I want you to come now.” I start before the last word leaves his lips.

My head goes back, my back leaves the floor, and my feet wrap around his legs. I come hard. It goes on and on.

“Daddy,” I cry.

“Yeah, baby. Fuck yes.” Quinn rides out my orgasm and gives me his. “Take Daddy’s come,” he growls.

“Jesus,” I whisper. I feel the heat of his come flooding me. I can feel it saturate my walls, and it sets off another orgasm.

He slows, gliding in short bursts, once, twice, three times, before stopping but holding deep.

He presses his cheek to mine, our harsh breathing in each other's ears. I close my eyes and commit every moment to memory. He makes me feel so much that tears spring to my eyes. He treats me as if I am precious. Someone looking in from the outside may not think so, but with his care and demands of my complete surrender, he grants me permission to get the most pleasure possible out of our time together. I’m falling. I’m falling hard.

He slides his hand from my neck, down between my breasts, to my hip. He grips with his fingers as he pushes up, and I gasp from the loss of him.

“Stay,” he demands. He gets to his knees and kisses my hip before pushing to his feet.

I watch his sexy ass while he walks to the bathroom, not able to move a muscle. I continue to watch as he comes back, and as he cleans me with a warm cloth. He gently holds it against me.

“Sore?” he asks.

“No,” I whisper. He was made to be mine.

He nods. He leaves again, and comes back without it. I expect him to crawl beside me, but he sits between my legs. He reaches for my foot, using it to push up my knee, and starts massaging my foot and gradually moves up my leg.

I’m shaken. With every pass of his strong hands which I’m sure can cause damage, he treats me so lovingly. I realize my arms are still over my head, and I drop them. I hold them to my chest, afraid my heart is going to burst.

“Thank you, Little Cub,” he says.

“For what?” Shouldn’t I be thanking him?

“For giving me that gift. For trusting I could give you what you needed,” he says. He moves to the other leg, and I am left speechless.

His friends have no idea what a big heart he has. I sigh, becoming lulled.

I fight the urge to close my eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You have asked numerous times if I believe you. Is that something you are worried about?” His hands pause a moment before resuming.

“Sometimes, I don’t realize I’m saying it,” he murmurs. He starts at my feet again. “My dad used to say it all the time.” He clears his throat. “After my mom left, we were filled with questions. I said several times that she must not love us enough to stay. He would tell us that she did and that she just needed a break, and she would be back. Directly after his statement, he would say, do you believe me? I guess I got used to hearing it. Who wouldn’t want to believe his statements? She had to love us, yet why would she leave if she did?”

My heart breaks. “How could she not love such a good person?”

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