Page 30 of Hexy Bear
When she shattered for the first time, it was with a sob of his name and a blinding flash of golden light that danced across the ceiling, the bond responding to her pleasure with sparks of magic that hummed against his skin.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she gasped, panting. “I want more.”
He crawled up her body and kissed her hard, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
“You’re going to get more,” he promised, guiding her hands to the waistband of his pants. “I want you to unwrap me, Mara. I want you to take your time.”
She obeyed with a grin that was equal parts wicked and radiant. She unfastened his pants slowly, deliberately, her fingertips brushing his skin in ways that made him curse under his breath. When his cock sprang free, thick and flushed and already leaking, she let out a breathless laugh.
“That’s mine,” she said, wrapping her hand around him.
“All yours,” he groaned, thrusting into her fist with a helpless roll of his hips. “Use me. Claim me.”
She stroked him slow, firm, twisting her wrist just enough to make his eyes roll back.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, he grabbed her hand, pinned it to the bed, and aligned himself at her entrance. He paused, forehead pressed to hers.
“You ready?”
She smiled, tearful and fierce. “I’ve been ready since the moment I met you.”
Griff pushed in slow, thick head breaching her tight, slick heat. They both moaned—hers high and breathless, his low and guttural. Inch by inch, he slid into her, until he was fully seated, their bodies joined in every way that mattered.
“Holy shit,” he panted, holding still, her pussy clenching around him like a velvet vice. “You feel… gods, you feel like you were made for me.”
Her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him deeper. “Then fuck me like I am.”
He didn’t hold back after that.
Griff set a slow, powerful rhythm, hips rolling into hers with smooth precision, each thrust designed to make her feel him everywhere. Her pussy gripped him like she never wanted him to leave, like her body was learning his rhythm the way her heart already had.
He kissed her as he moved—her mouth, her neck, the underside of her jaw, murmuring between each kiss.
“You’re mine.”
“My mate.”
“My love.”
“My home.”
She cried out with every stroke, her nails dragging down his back, leaving marks that made him growl in satisfaction. The bond between them flared brighter, magic pulsing with every thrust, their souls twining tighter.
When her second climax hit, it was raw and violent, a full-body quake that made her sob his name and clamp down around his cock like she was trying to pull him even deeper. He rode it out, whispering how beautiful she was, how good, how his.
Then he flipped them, holding her to his chest as he sat back on his knees, letting her ride him now. She gasped at the angle, at the sudden depth, at the way he filled her to the hilt and then some.
“Fuck—Griff?—”
“Take what you need, sweetheart,” he rasped, hands on her hips, guiding her as she bounced on his cock. “This is all for you.”
Her hands braced on his shoulders, her body moving with grace and abandon. She met his eyes as she rode him, and it broke something open inside him—how much he loved her, how much he’d risked and lost and still ended up here, whole, wanted, chosen.
When he felt himself teetering on the edge, he thrust up into her once, twice—and then spilled inside her with a roar, burying his face in her neck as he came so hard it made his vision go white.
They collapsed together, bodies shaking, magic still humming through the air like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Their breathing slowed. The bond settled. The world quieted around them.
