Page 15 of Hexy Bear
The rest of their clothes disappeared with the kind of urgency that could only be born from desperation. Griff’s hands shook as he peeled the last of Mara’s dress from her skin, his breath catching at the sight of her—bare and luminous in the muted afternoon light filtering through the bedroom window. Her skin was silk and honey, golden where the sun kissed, pale where shadows lingered, and entirely his to worship.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, the reverence in his voice stark and rough. His calloused hand slid from her collarbone to the swell of her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple until it peaked. “You’ve haunted every goddamn dream I’ve had since the first day I saw you.”
Mara reached for him with a breathless laugh, soft and trembling, her green eyes fever-bright. “Then stop dreaming,”she whispered, her fingers trailing over the ridges of muscle down his chest. “And touch me like I’m real. Like I’m yours.”
That was all it took to snap his restraint. He surged forward and caught her mouth in a kiss that was all heat and desperation. His body covered hers as he pressed her back into the mattress, hips nestled between her thighs, cock thick and already hard, sliding against her slick folds without breaching. Her legs parted wider, welcoming him with a breathless moan, her pelvis rolling instinctively to feel more of him.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he ground out, his voice already hoarse with need.
“Griff,” she gasped, arching against him, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Too much is exactly what I want.”
He kissed her again—harder this time, with tongue and teeth and a desperation that tasted like surrender. His hand slid between them, fingers parting her folds, stroking her swollen clit with practiced reverence.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned, forehead pressed to hers, his fingers spreading her open, circling that sensitive bud until she shuddered. “I haven’t even fucked you yet, and you’re already trembling for me.”
“It’s you,” she breathed, voice pitched high as her hips rocked against his hand.
Griff kissed his way down her throat, biting lightly at the juncture between neck and shoulder before dragging his tongue lower, to the swell of her breast. He wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked, slowly, deeply, while his fingers plunged inside her, curling just enough to find that hidden spot that made her cry out.
“Gods, yes—don’t stop,” she moaned, her thighs clenching around his wrist, her fingers threading through his hair as she arched into his mouth.
He growled against her skin, the sound low and primal, his bear brushing close to the surface, roused not by rage but by the need to claim, to protect, to pleasure.
Mara came with a cry, her walls fluttering around his fingers, her thighs trembling. Her climax hit like a wave—unexpected and all-consuming—and Griff didn’t stop until her body had wrung every shiver of pleasure from it.
When he pulled his fingers free and brought them to his mouth, licking her taste from his skin, she watched him with eyes darkened by desire and something deeper—devotion, perhaps, or awe.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “I wanted you even when I thought I couldn’t have you.”
Griff leaned over her, bracing himself on his forearms, their bodies flush. “Then let me give it to you. Everything. No holding back.”
Their mouths met again, slower this time. Less desperation, more worship. As if now that the dam had broken, they were taking their time in the flood. She reached between them, wrapped her hand around his cock—hot and heavy, pulsing in her palm—and guided him to her entrance.
“Now,” she said, breathless, trembling. “Please.”
He eased into her inch by inch, biting down on a curse as her heat enveloped him. She was snug, wet, perfect, and the way her body accepted him made his vision blur.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, jaw clenched, holding still once he was buried to the hilt. “Mara... you feel like heaven and sin and fucking salvation all at once.”
She moaned into his neck, her legs locking around his waist. “You’re so deep,” she gasped. “God, Griff—move. Please move.”
He pulled back slowly, nearly all the way out, then thrust back in with a snap of his hips that made her cry out. The soundignited something feral in him. He set a rhythm, slow at first—deep and rolling, each thrust calculated to hit the spot that made her walls flutter and her cries grow higher.
Their bodies moved in sync, sweat-slicked and flush with magic. Each time he pulled out and drove back in, the bed creaked beneath them, muffled only by the rhythm of their breath and the staccato of skin on skin. The power of their magic thickened the air, laced with golden threads of protective energy, sparking and humming through the room like a living thing.
“Look at me,” she whispered, cupping his face even as he continued to move inside her. “I want to see you when you fall apart.”
He opened his eyes—and nearly lost it. Her gaze was wide open, not just lust-filled but soul-bared, her love for him written in every shiver, every tremble, every kiss.
He hooked her leg over his shoulder, changing the angle so he could go deeper. Her breath hitched, and she gasped something incoherent—his name maybe, or some sacred prayer that only lovers understood.
She clenched around him, nearing again. “Don’t stop, don’t stop—I’m close again—Griff?—”
He bent and kissed her deeply, driving harder, his thrusts quickening. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Come for me. Let go.”
And she did. Her orgasm tore through her, hips jerking, thighs trembling. He felt her convulse around his cock, and the sensation—her pulsing warmth, her cries in his ear, her nails raking down his back—dragged him over the edge too.
Griff came with a guttural groan, spilling into her with a power that left his body shaking. His forehead pressed to hers as he slowed, rocking into her gently, each pulse of pleasure wringing another wave from him.
