The Winter Bear's Bride (Dubious Book 2) (8 page)

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath and scooped her up into his arms.

Shivering with a more than the cold, she tried not to curl into him. He hated her, and if she’d learned anything as her father’s daughter, it was not to show weakness to someone who hated her. So she held her body rigid in his arms and wished more than anything in the world that she could go back and find another way. Change what she’d done. Her great plan to cheat him out of his prize, the Elder’s chair, seemed stupid now. He could just go back to war and decimate the clans. All she’d done was piss him off and ensure herself a life of misery as wife to a man who hated her. She closed her eyes for a moment as her throat grew thick and tight. No change there then. She’d just swapped her father for a man just as bad.

He paused in front of a door, and she opened her eyes as he shouldered his way through it, the heavy wood no match for his strength. Candles lit the large chamber, and she got a fleeting glimpse of tapestries on the walls and a fireplace to the right before her attention was caught by the bed opposite. A huge four poster loaded with soft-looking furs, it was big enough for at least four warriors. Images of him in there, naked, with a throng of women around him assaulted her, and she shut her eyes tightly, trying to dispel the image. The rumors said he debauched women, taking two or three at a time. A lover and a fighter with a dangerous temper.

He set her on her feet, stripping his shirt off as he strode across the room. The leather hit a chair in the darkness, and he turned, hands already on his belt.

“Undress and get on the bed.” His soft words weren’t a suggestion, they were an order. His dark eyes glittered in the firelight, one side of his face shadowed. Even halfway across the room he seemed huge, and her nerve almost failed her.

“Please, my lord.” She took a step forward, hand outstretched. “Let me apologize. I don’t want to start our married life like this.”

He unbuckled his belt, sliding the leather from the loops on his pants with a sensuous whisper. The words dried up in her throat as he coiled it in his hands. Would he beat her? She couldn’t help her half step backward before she stopped herself. Lifted her chin.

“If you need to…” Her voice failed her for a moment as her gaze flickered from his face to the belt in his hand.

“If I need to what?” he growled, then followed her gaze with his. The bark of laughter made her jump. “If I need to beat you? Oh, no, my lady, I have something far different in mind.”

He threw the belt on the chair behind him to join his shirt and started to unbutton his pants. “If you’re not naked on that bed by the time I’m done, I’ll rip that gown from you. Go.”

Oh God, he wouldn’t? Stunned into silence, she watched him unbutton one, then another of the buttons before she realized she was just standing there in the middle of the floor, watching him. Watching the play of the firelight over his golden skin, the red flecks it uncovered in his dark-as-midnight hair.

Then he flicked the last of the buttons free and moved toward her. Spurred into action, she squeaked and started for the bed. Nerveless fingers fought with the fasteners at her bodice to no avail. She couldn’t make her hands work and within seconds she felt the heat of his body against her back and froze.

Hard hands on her upper arms spun her around and she found herself crushed against his chest as he glared down at her, eyes blazing.

“Out of time, my lady,” he taunted, then crushed her lips beneath his.

She tried to hold out, honestly she did. Standing impassively, she told herself that he could have her body, but that would be all. He’d never have a hold on her heart or her soul. Her body would heal from whatever damage he inflicted, eventually, but her heart—her soul—if she let him in, he would destroy her.

His lips worked hers, over and back. The slick heat of his tongue brushed against hers, reminding her of their previous kisses, what it felt like to be held in his strong embrace and the pleasure his touch could bring. She felt herself weakening. He was her husband; in the eyes of their world, she belonged to him. Heat filled her veins. He could do what he liked with her, to her…and she’d let him.

As though sensing her weakness, he pressed his advantage, hauling her up against his hard-muscled body. His lips broke from hers to whisper against them. “You’re mine, Analise. I told you I would have you and I will. You agreed to come to me willingly. If I gain nothing else from this marriage because of your plots, I will have your surrender.”

He kissed her again, cutting off any reply she might have made. Hard lips dominated hers as his hands swept over her body. One flattened over the back of her hips, holding her in place as the other reached between them and hooked into the neckline of her gown. His kiss made her so dizzy that she didn’t realize what was coming next.

Without lifting his mouth from hers, he tore open the ribbons holding her dress together down the front and, when she gasped, thrust his tongue past her lips. Stroked her tongue and thrust again. Mimicked the act to follow as he pushed her gown from her shoulders. It caught on her hips for a moment, but then fell to the floor.

Air washed over her exposed skin and she couldn’t stop the shiver that rolled through her body. The thin shift she wore beneath her gown was no protection against the cooler air of the room or against the fire of his gaze as he broke the kiss and looked down at her. Heat blazed, burning out the cold look that had been there before.

Without a word, he urged her backward onto the bed, following her down and crawling over her in a move that was more feline than the were-polar she knew him to be. Her breath caught in her throat at the sheer sensuality of the move. Before she could move, though, he was over her, hands either side of her head as he braced himself.

“S—”

He shook his head, cutting off her words, and her jaw snapped shut.

“Mine.”

His words were a growl as he bent his head to kiss her again. His hair brushed her cheeks, surprisingly soft, but his lips were anything but. At his demand, she opened for him and moaned as he deepened the kiss. The need to touch him overwhelmed her, and she reached out hesitantly, wary for his reaction. Would he welcome her touch?

Her fingertips brushed his skin, and he groaned against her lips. Emboldened by his reaction, she flattened both her palms against his chest, spreading her fingers to touch him.

He nipped her lower lip, catching it lightly between his teeth for a moment. Pleasure coursed through her body, a weakness that swept from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her hands smoothed down his chest, then farther, her fingers running over the ripples of his tensed abdomen.

He released her lip with a groan.

“Touch me.” It wasn’t an order; it was a plea. One from the depths of his soul. “Snow’s sake, Analise, touch me.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded and slid her hands lower. Heat hit her cheeks like she’d been standing in front of a fire for hours, but it didn’t matter. He was Scar, the most dangerous bear in the Arctic Circle…and she had him at her mercy.

Her fingertips reached the loose edges of his pants, the backs of her fingers brushing something hot and silky. She jumped, but he was already there. Braced on one arm, he caught one of her hands to wrap it around the thick shaft of his cock.

Her eyes widened. He was huge, far bigger than she’d thought. Sudden fear hit her. Would it even fit? He was so much bigger than she was. His hand tightened on hers, moving it up and down his cock, and he groaned, his expression tight.

“Fuck, that feels good. So good.”

His hand dropped away, but she kept hers where it was. Touching him, stroking him. She grew bolder and swept her thumb over the wide head. It came away slick and wet.

“Witch,” he breathed, spearing her with a hot look. “You’ve ensnared me. How did you do that?”

She shook her head, letting go of him. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You did. And now it’s my turn.” His big hand smoothed over her thigh, catching the shift and smoothing it against her skin. “This is in the way.”

Holding her gaze, he reached up and hooked his fingers in the neckline. With a sharp movement, he tore it clean down the middle, baring her to his gaze. Instinctively, she tried to cover up, but his low growl stopped her.

“Beautiful.”

It was just the one word, but one that seemed ripped unwillingly from the depths of his soul. Before she’d fully realized what he’d said, he bent his head and wrapped his tongue around her nipple. The hot, wet rasp made her gasp and reach for him, her nails digging into his shoulder. He didn’t stop there. He paid homage to her breasts, licking and nibbling around her sensitive nipples before, finally, taking one into his mouth to suck.

She whimpered, her back arching as any self-consciousness disappeared under the need and heat hitting her broadside. Nothing mattered any more. All that mattered was he carried on what he was doing. Big hands curled around her ribcage, holding her in place, her breasts offered up to his mouth. He moved from one to the other until she moaned and writhed beneath him.

Letting go, he slid down the bed. She couldn’t help pouting at the loss of his talented lips and tongue on her breasts, but stilled as he parted her legs to slide between them. His shoulders were so broad he could barely fit, nudging her thighs wide. Spreading her wide for his heated gaze.

“My lord?” She bit her lip, shifting uncomfortably. There was something wrong with her…he didn’t find her attractive enough.

“Mine,” he growled and licked her.

“Ooooh!” Her hips came off the bed at the sensation. Warm, rough, wet…the feel of his tongue against her lower lips was like nothing she’d ever felt before. He rumbled, the sound a vibration against her, and she whimpered. The touch of his fingers was nothing compared to his clever lips and tongue.

He parted her folds and found the tiny bundle of pleasure hidden there to play with. He licked over and back in long, slow strokes, before flicking rapidly. Pleasure built up in her core and she clutched at the sheets, trying to ground herself. It was no good. With every lick, every deep growl, he pushed her higher and higher.

“My lord…” She couldn’t stay still no matter how much she tried. Her hips rocked against his mouth, searching for, needing more sensation. One more stroke of his tongue, or the warmth of his mouth as he suckled her.

He pulled away, and she keened softly, feeling the loss of his heat.

“Shhh…I’ve got you,” he murmured as he moved over her. One hair-roughened knee slid between hers, then the other, and he lowered himself. Something hard nudged against her, brushing the entrance to her body, and she stilled.

Her hands curled over his upper arms, holding onto him as he reached between them. Dipping his hips, he fit the head of his cock against her and pressed insistently. Her nostrils flared as her body was forced to stretch around him. Panic welled. He was too big. There was no way he was going to fit.

“Just relax. It’ll be good, I promise.”

She nodded, trusting him, and stopped fighting. Her body gave, and he slid into her half an inch. Her eyes widened, the feeling of fullness stealing her ability to breathe. Expression tight, he pulled back, only to surge into her again, deeper this time. Little by little, he worked his way in until he was seated in her to the hilt. He stopped, braced over her, cock throbbing in her depths.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

She moaned softly in answer because she couldn’t do anything else. Her body throbbed where he was buried in her, the feeling of fullness so complete she was worried that if he moved, he’d split her in two.

Then he did, and her gasp of panic turned into one of wonder as pleasure burst through her. The burning almost pain of his possession turned into utter bliss as he rocked his hips back and drove into her again. And again. She looked up to find him watching her, his expression hard and feral. It should have scared her, but the look in his eyes wasn’t one of rage. It was desire and need. For her.

His thrusts sped up, becoming faster and harder. Each slide of his cock in her pussy was a brand of ownership, but of whom she wasn’t sure. Her breathing came in soft pants, then moans as she wrapped her arms around him. She held him to her and surrendered the softness of her body for his pleasure.

“God, Analise.” He growled her name, one big hand hooking behind her knee to bring it up higher over his hip. In the same movement, he ground his pelvis against her. The sensation made her gasp, the world around her ceasing to exist as he shoved her up to the edge of the precipice.

“Scar, I…”

She couldn’t get the words out, but he nodded anyway. “Let go…give me your pleasure,” he ordered on a low growl. His next thrust was hard and fast, with a roll of his hips at the end. Reaching between them, he found the tiny bundle of nerves between her legs. At his clever touch, she stiffened, the sensation too much as he pushed her over into pleasure.

She fell, shattering apart as she screamed his name. The maelstrom enveloped her, sweeping her up into its heated embrace. Ecstasy spiraled out from her core, fed by each thrust as he dropped her leg and drove into her harder and faster, chasing his release even as he powered hers.

Her moans and the bite of her nails in his shoulders seemed to spur him on. All she could do was cling to him, trusting him to take them both where they needed to be. Finally, it was too much. He shoved into her and stiffened, throwing his head back and roaring as he came, cock pulsing deep within her depths.

She closed her eyes, losing herself in the moment.

He was her lord, her husband…and she could so easily fall in love with him if she wasn’t careful.

And if that happened, she was done for.

****

She was beautiful, perfection itself. Pity her heart was rotten beneath the beauty. The early morning sun filtered through the thick glass and fell across the bed, highlighting Analise’s face.

Scar lay on his side and watched her. He’d taken her time after time, and the sex had been the best he’d ever had, but still he wanted her. His cock was as hard as a staff still, even though he’d spent his seed within her more times than he could count. The scent of her skin and the sound of her screams of pleasure were burned into his memory for all time.