Page 67 of Befriending the Bear
His eyes fluttered open, hazy with need but so full of love and trust that it stole my breath. I held his gaze as I pushed forward, breaching him slowly, carefully, the tight ring of muscle yielding to let me sink into him. His mouth fell open on a silent cry as I filled him inch by inch, his body yielding to mine like it was made for me. We moaned in unison when I was fully seated inside him, hips flush against his. I stilled, giving him time to adjust. He was so tight around me, velvet heat gripping me like a vice.
“F-fuck,” he gasped, fingernails digging into my skin. “So f-full.”
I gentled him with soft words and softer kisses, giving him time to adjust to the stretch and burn. When I was fully seated inside him, I stilled, overwhelmed by the heat, the tight clench of his body around me. “You feel incredible, sweetheart. So perfect.”
After a moment, he rolled his hips experimentally, and we both groaned at the sensation. I took it as my cue to move, drawing out slowly before thrusting back in. Calloway moaned and arched beneath me as I began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust pushed him higher up the bed until I looped my arm under his knee, changing the angle so I could sink even deeper. He cried out, hands scrabbling at my back as I found that spot inside him that made him see stars.
“There, oh g-g-god…right th-there…” he babbled, words dissolving into incoherent sounds of pleasure.
I angled my hips to hit that spot on every thrust, driving into him with increasing urgency. His channel rippled around me, drawing me in, welcoming every inch. Sweat slicked our skin as we moved together, lost in the push and pull, the give and take. Our bodies fit together like matching puzzle pieces, like we were always meant to be joined this way.
Calloway looked debauched and utterly perfect spread out beneath me, hair mussed against the pillow, lips parted around needy gasps and moans. His nails scored my back as he hung on, meeting each roll of my hips with his own. I reveled in every sound I pulled from him, every shudder and tremor of his body.
I’d had sex many times before. Good sex and bad sex, sex with one-time hookups and with long-term partners. But I’d never felt this connected to another human being in my life.
This was so much more than sex, more than physical pleasure. It was love making, a joining of hearts and souls. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of love and devotionbuilt the intimacy between us until I felt I might shatter from the intensity of it.
Calloway met me thrust for thrust, hands roaming my back, blunt nails digging in as he urged me deeper, harder. I kept my angle the same, making sure to hit that spot inside him that made him cry out and arch beneath me. My knee protested despite the pillows, but I ignored it. I would happily pay the price of limping for a week straight rather than stopping now.
I drove into that spot relentlessly, determined to make this so good for him, to show him with my body what I felt in my heart. My orgasm was building at the base of my spine, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter. But I wanted Calloway with me, wanted to watch him fall apart in my arms.
He was close, I could tell, his muscles starting to clench and flutter around me. I wrapped my fingers around his straining erection, stroking him in time with my thrusts.
“Let go for me, sweetheart,” I coaxed. “I want to feel you come on my cock, want to feel you lose control.”
His eyes snapped to mine, wide and desperate, and then he was coming with a choked-off cry, spilling hot over my fist. I worked him through it, continuing to stroke and thrust as his body clamped down on me, muscles rippling and spasming. The sight and feel of him coming undone was my undoing. With a guttural groan, I buried myself deep and let go, my release pulsing out of me and filling him.
Wave after wave of intense pleasure rolled through me, more powerful than anything I’d ever experienced. It seemed to go on forever, the two of us locked together, trembling and clutching each other as we rode out the aftershocks.
I collapsed on top of Calloway, barely having the presence of mind to roll slightly to the side to avoid crushing him. For long moments, we just clung to each other, trembling and panting as the aftershocks rolled through us. I peppered his face with softkisses, murmuring words of love and praise against his damp skin.
Finally, I slipped out of him gently, and he made a small sound of loss. I gathered him into my arms, not caring about the mess, just needing to hold him as close as possible. He burrowed into me, tucking his head under my chin. I stroked his back soothingly, pressing a kiss to his hair.
We lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close as our breathing gradually slowed and our heart rates returned to normal. My knee was throbbing dully, but it was a distant concern for later, eclipsed by the warm contentment suffusing my entire being. I’d never felt so utterly at peace, so completely right with the world and my place in it.
Calloway shifted slightly, lifting his head to look at me. His eyes were soft, warm pools of chocolate brown, filled with a tenderness that made my breath catch. “I love you,” he whispered, the words a reverent promise in the hush of the bedroom.
My heart swelled until I thought it might burst from the sheer force of emotion. “I love you too, sweetheart. So damn much.”
He smiled, slow and sweet, and I couldn’t help but pull him into another kiss, this one soft and unhurried, a gentle affirmation rather than the heated desperation of before. We traded lazy kisses and murmured endearments as our hands roamed over sweat-cooled skin, mapping dips and planes and committing every inch to memory.
“H-how’s your knee?” he finally asked. “N-not the most r-r-romantic, I know, b-but I’m worried.”
I considered lying but decided the truth was better. “It hurts like hell, but it’s okay.”
Calloway frowned and sat up, studying my knee with a critical eye. “We should ice it. And you need to rest it for a few days at least.”
I sighed but couldn’t argue. He was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I wasn’t a young man anymore, and my body had limits. “Okay, doc. Whatever you say.”
That earned me a playful swat on the arm. “I’m not a doctor, but I do know a thing or two about recovery.” His expression sobered. “I don’t want you to be in pain because of me.”
I cupped his face, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. “Hey, no. Making love with you could never be something I regret, no matter what. A few days of taking it easy is a small price to pay for what we just shared.”
Calloway’s eyes softened and he leaned into my touch, turning his head to press a kiss to my palm. “I don’t regret it either. Not for a second. But I do want to take care of you now.”
Warmth bloomed inside me. I was so used to being the caretaker, the protector. It was a role I slipped into as easily as breathing. But letting someone else care for me? That was uncharted territory. “Thank you.”
He brushed a tender kiss across my lips before slipping out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”
