Page 33 of Trusting Her Bear
“You can’t promise that,” I say, shaking my head. His hand tightens, stopping the movement.
“I can. Shit happens, but I can be here, no matter what,” he says firmly.
“I don’t understand you,” I whisper. “I don’t know what I’m doing. How do I be a good mate?”
“I could ask the same thing,” he says. “We can find our way together.”
I drop my forehead to his. “You seem so good at this.”
“Little Cub, you haven’t known me long. I will fuck up. I will say shit that you won’t like, but everything I do from now on is to protect you and our bond.”
“You're doing it right now,” I whine. Everything about him pulls me in deeper. He may think he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s saying all the right things.
“Do you want to work towards completing the bond? Do you want to learn about each other, and spend time together, with the agreement that eventually we will complete the bond?” He slides his hand over my shoulder and down my arm to cover my hand.
“I would never deny that we are mates. I would like to learn about you. I have always wished for a mate someday. I’ve been fascinated by it and the fact that there is a perfect person for you out in the world.” I sit straight and study his handsome face. “Growing up, you hear stories of mates. The feelings that come with it, but it’s hard to imagine until it happens.”
“I feel the same,” he says softly.
“You seem to take control of every situation. Do you feel out of control because of the bond?” I ask.
“Surprisingly, no.” He slides his other hand behind me and over my waist until he’s cupping my hip. “Maybe I would if it didn’t feel right.”
His hands feel good on my body, and the heat flashes through me. “It does feel right,” I agree. I watch his hand move from my hand to my thigh. “I like it when you carry me around. Could you tell?”
“I could.” He pulls at my hip, and my shoulder hits his chest. “You allow me to move you, and your body relaxes.”
“You make me forget everything but you,” I confess.
“I’m glad, Little Cub.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“Does it bother you?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I was just curious.” The rumble of the words of affection soothes me.
“There are several reasons. You are small, especially compared to me. You bring out my instinct to protect. It is a way to show you my affection,” he says. I look down as he plays with the waistband of my jeans. “And I think the name pairs well with the name I hope you will call me.” His finger glides in between my stomach and the fabric.
“What name?” I ask, my heart speeding. He looks up and tilts his head.
I don’t move as he unbuttons my pants or as he lowers the zipper. “Daddy.” My mouth goes dry. He bypasses my underwear, his warm hand covering me, and I groan. “Daddy can cup his Little Cub with one hand,” he growls. “Have you ever called anyone that?”
“No,” I gasp. His finger slides inside me.
“Good. I would hate that,” he whispers. “I would love to hear it come from your lips.”
“You would?” I say faintly. He hovers over my mouth while his fingers slide.
“I would. When you are ready.” He kisses me before I can reply, and I lose myself in him.
His kiss is slow. Knowing his personality, I assumed he would kiss hard and fast, but he draws out every stroke of his tongue. Every sip is measured. He takes full advantage of my mouth under his, and I allow him to guide the pace.
He holds me still when I attempt to move my hips. The heat demands fast, but he refuses to allow it to. He does hold me in the palm of his hand, as I wait for him to give his permission for every move. My focus is on him, and nothing else exists. I refer to him to give me what I need.
He pulls back, and I see his bear in his eyes. “Yes, Little Cub. You feel so fucking good.” He thrusts faster, his thumb hitting my clit with every stroke. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes,” I pant.