Page 27 of Grizzly's Grump
He’s gorgeous. Carved muscle, scars, and heat. His eyes burn when he looks at me—like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted. And I want to believe that. Just for now.
His hands explore every inch of my body—grasping at my hips, cupping my breasts, and pinching my nipples before gliding downward with deliberate intent to grip the soft flesh of my thighs. His fingers dig into my skin as if he is afraid I'll escape from his grasp. The rough texture of his palms sends tingles down my spine, each touch sending a wave of heat through every nerve.
He presses me back against the wall, spreading my legs apart and pressing his knee in between them. The rigidity of the surface behind me contrasts with the firmness of his touch;there's nothing tentative about it. He hungrily kisses me, our tongues dancing together in a desperate rhythm.
His fingers trace teasing circles around the sensitive bud at the apex of my thighs, causing me to gasp for breath as pleasure builds within me. The anticipation is almost unbearable, and I buck against him, wanting more. His lips curl into a knowing smile, his teeth grazing against the delicate skin of my neck as he sucks on it possessively. He slips one finger inside me, gently stroking and curling it while adding another—both moving in unison.
I can barely hold on to any rational thought as he continues to play with me, igniting an inferno deep within that threatens to consume us both. My moans grow louder, echoing off the walls and mingling with his own grunts and growls of passion.
He takes my hand and guides it to his throbbing erection, allowing me to feel its pulsating heat before urging me to wrap my fingers around it. Every vein is tense under my touch as I begin to stroke him along with his rhythm inside me. Our eyes lock together, our shared desire evident even through the haze of lust.
It's not just about physical release for either of us; this is a dance—a battle waged between two bodies striving for dominance and submission. And in this moment, we are both lost within the firestorm of pleasure, our bodies crashing together like waves against the rocky shore.
We stumble onto the only actual seat in the truck—the driver’s side—still locked together in a frenzy of mouths and hands. He drives into me, his cock burying deep with each hard, hungry thrust. It’s raw and unrelenting, the kind of need that doesn’t ask, just takes.
Yet woven through that carnal demand is something tender—an unspoken reverence in the way he kisses the edge of my jaw, the curve of my shoulder, like he’s memorizing me. Eachpush, each groan, each inaudible whisper against my neck is a confession—one he can’t voice but pours into every inch of my body instead.
"I shouldn’t want you like this," he rasps against my collarbone as he pounds into me.
"Then don’t," I bite back, clawing down his back. "Just take me."
He does... again... and again until we're both wrecked.
Afterward, we lie in a tangle of limbs and heat. My head is on his chest. His arms around me like a fortress. His heart is still thundering beneath my ear. And underneath it all... a vibration. Subtle, then growing. Like something beneath us is waking up. I press closer to him, and the hairs on my arms rise. It's not just afterglow. It's something more.
"I’m not leaving," Calder whispers. "Not unless you tell me to."
He’s silent for a long moment. Then, "I don’t want you to go."
I close my eyes.
The truck gives a faint shudder.
He moves beneath me. "Did you…?"
"No..."
Another tremor. Subtle, but real. The food truck gives a soft creak, the driver’s seat vibrating faintly beneath us. A low, humming vibration buzzes up through the floor.
We both go still.
"Tell me that was just an earthquake," I murmur.
He doesn’t answer... he doesn’t have to.
We both feel it—the truth humming through the floor, undeniable and raw, vibrating in the air between us like a warning... or a summons.
CHAPTER 10
CALDER
Cilla’s breath is still warm on my chest, a gentle reminder she didn’t bolt. That when I showed up, she didn’t push me away. I can’t tell if that makes the ache in my chest ease or deepen. My bear rests deep in my bones, unsettled but oddly satisfied, like the matebond’s claws have dug in just a little deeper.
She’s not ready for forever—at least, that’s what I suspect she's told herself. We haven’t had that conversation, not really. I haven’t said a word about the matebond to her, haven’t given her a reason to know just how deep this runs for me. But she didn’t tell me to leave when I showed up. She let me hold her. That has to mean something.
She’s finally asleep. I must’ve dozed off with her still curled against me. But once I wake and take stock of where we are, I move her gently—careful not to rouse her—and move us up to the small bed above the cab. She murmurs in her sleep but doesn’t stir, pressing into the pillow like she belongs there with me. Like I didn’t just rip her world wide open. Even so, she still somehow ended up curled against me—so damn sweet it makes my bear pace inside me, restless and possessive. But my mindwon’t settle. I keep going over every word, every look she gave me before she drifted off.
She ran at first—who wouldn’t? But then she let me hold her. After everything I told her, after everything she saw... she stayed. And that changes everything. That should bring comfort, but it gnaws at me. Hope and doubt, tangled together. Does she feel the pull like I do? Or is she just too shaken to leave yet? Either way, the bond between us is no longer just some quiet instinct in the background. It’s a roar now, a weight I feel with every breath. And I don’t know if she’s ready for it. I don’t know if I am.
