Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Bear’s Arranged Mate Chapter 10

Elva

Something about Jermaine's authoritative nature made me want to push his buttons. It turned me on when he told me what to do-and it utterly aroused me when he tried putting my defiance in place. He was as protective as he was influential, and those were

things I'd never known I needed.

"Get on your knees," he rasped.

I whimpered when he gripped my chin. "But the floor is dirty."

"Then I guess you're getting dirty. Aren't you, sweet pea?"

Shock right to the c**t. I dropped to the ground in half a second, ready to s**k him right into my mouth.

But I wasn't so lucky.

He cupped my chin and forced me to look up at him. As he unbuttoned his pants, I slid my skirt up, revealing my shaved mound. It was becoming a tradition to bang every day after he got back from his security rounds.

Even if he had something to do later, we always made the time.

I was enjoying the hell out of it.

While sliding my fingers between my folds, I tried to imagine who else had done this to me. Anyone worth thinking about?

He gripped my chin harder. "Only me, sweet pea. There's only me. Understand?"

My brows knit together.

How did he know what I was thinking?

A devious chuckle vibrated the air.

In my mind's eye, I saw what he wanted-his c**k teasing my lips while he stroked himself.

How did I know what he was thinking?

His eyes narrowed, turning into obsidian stones with the light above his head haloing around his hair. He practically looked angelic.

Except for that evil chuckle, that devious twinkle in his eye, that sinister grin. Everything about him exuded danger, and that just made me want him even more.

His fingers tangled into my hair. "Yes, sweet pea. You get to watch."

I whimpered. Why the hell did I have to be right? "But I-"

He swept his thumb over my lower lip, sending my eyes skyward. My vision blurred. All I could see was his shadowy outline. I heard his pants rustle and then felt the tip of his c**k on my mouth, warm and beaded with arousal. I lapped the head, taking my time to trace every inch.

He hissed and grabbed my hair. The movement kept me a few inches away from tasting him. I hated being kept from what I wanted. Even more than that, I hated being forced to watch.

Why watch when I can just participate?

"Open your eyes," he instructed. "Good girl..."

Alright, maybe the sound of that was worth suffering. I focused on him and then on his c**k, switching between his eyes and his hand caressing his shaft. I matched his strokes with my fingers, rubbing myself to the same rhythm. He craned his neck. "Did I tell you to do that?"

I bit back a retort. If I fought too much, then he wouldn't give me what I wanted. And what I wanted was bigger than anything I'd ever had in my life.

Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away. I met his gaze, allowing my brows to relax away from each other, giving him a look of pure surrender. It told him that I belonged to him in this moment-and in the moments after, too.

He smiled. Just seeing that grin cut across his lips made my heart leap into my throat. "Such a good sweet pea. You're ready for me, aren't you? Is that why you were touching yourself?"

I nodded eagerly. "You have no idea..."

"I think I might."

He lifted me with one arm and planted me on the counter. The bag of flour tumbled to the ground and smacked the tile. A few bowls went with it. I was positive there had to be a huge mess on the ground. But Jermaine didn't seem particularly concerned about all that.

He pushed my knees open and swept his fingers over my slit. I shuddered from the motion, a little death already rattling a moan right out of me. I struggled to look up at him, to beg him, to plea for him to do more than that. But he merely smiled, running his thumb just above my engorged c**t to tease me.

Just as the muscles of my face contorted, he pressed his cock to my entrance, sending a wave of relief through me. No more anger. Just unadulterated desire. And with one thrust, he pushed my worries away. Nobody was like Jermaine. If there was a guy out there that was like him, I had no idea-and I didn't need to know. Because I had Jermaine here now and I wasn't about to let anything get in the way of that. Colorful waves washed over my vision. I gave myself over to them, allowing the tides to eat me up just as he did. Everywhere he touched felt like velvet heat. Each kiss sent me spiraling. I was ready for anything. And that was odd, considering I hadn't planned for this.

Most of what I did had a plan. The training sessions, the trips into town, the way I cleaned my home-everything had a map. But Jermaine was far from predictable. He hardly had any lines. He had ways of doing things, but most of them didn't make sense to me. Except for this. Except for his kiss.

And as he stole my attention again, I realized how much I would miss this once our partnership ended.

He leaned into me, sending me back onto the counter. I had my shoulders propped up against the wall while he held my hips, diligently drilling between my thighs. I couldn't look away from him. I couldn't think of a reason why. Not until that familiar tingle.

It started at the base of my spine, swirling into my core and lacing its way up my throat. It pierced my flesh along the way, tiny tingles turning into a thousand warm nights in front of a fire. I arched into it, exposing so much of me to Jermaine that I thought he might break me in half.

If he did manage to do that, I wouldn't care.

"That's it..." he whispered as he took my chin. "Let go, sweet pea."

My vision went white. The world around me shifted, my ears barely registering sounds as I rode the wave of pleasure. When I came to, Jermaine was bowing over me, pumping eagerly with diligent smacks that made me shiver. He gripped my thighs while holding my gaze, brows knotted up hard with concentration.

And then, he pulled out. He stroked three times as he came on my thigh. I broke eye contact once just to watch, enjoying the sight of him unloading on me. Just for me.

I met his gaze with a grin. "That could have been my mouth."

He groaned while yanking me into a warm embrace. "There's always time for another round."

"Don't you have things to do?"

"You're the only thing I need to do right now."

My heart fluttered. No one had ever spoken to me like that. Sure, there were plenty of guys around town who had been dominant or who had treated me like an object. For the most part, I'd invited those things. I'd wanted them. I didn't need the strings involved with more serious pairings.

But with Jermaine, it felt good to be both his desire and his rock.

After what he told me at the restaurant, things changed. Sex felt different. It was more passionate, more alert to the fact that one of us-or both of us-could die tomorrow.

Death didn't discriminate. But it also didn't do handouts.

It wasn't like death had spared me when it was time.

Jermaine stroked my jaw, his knobby fingers drawing a line to my chin. He tilted my head and urged me to look into his eyes. "You went somewhere."

"Did I?"

"Yeah, you..." His brows twitched once with concern. "You've been doing that a lot."

"Oh, I didn't notice."

He stared at me for a bit. It wasn't like I was buying the bullshit I was laying out either. But it wasn't something I wanted to talk about right this second. We were basking in the aftermath of screwing. It felt too good to ruin with all my trauma crap. Save it for another time, I thought. Besides, he doesn't care about that. All he cares about is-

Light flashed over my eyes. One second I was just sitting on the counter with my partner between my legs, and the next I was cowering with my arms over my head. I wasn't even sure what had made me get into that position.

It wasn't something I had done for a long time.

Jermaine touched my shoulders. "Merciful gods, you're shaking. Elva, talk to me. Are you alright? What happened?"

"I don't..."

Nope, couldn't speak either. That was just dandy. Considering the circumstances, he probably thought I felt ashamed of what had happened.

Honestly? There was some shame. But not for the things he might think.

I trembled when he picked me up. He quietly carried me out of the kitchen and to the hallway where he paused. I heard him kick off his jeans. Gods, we were still partially naked, weren't we? And probably dirty, too. My legs were coated with flour from the knees down.

The air shifted. A cool breeze met the back of my neck. And then Jermaine was bending forward, balancing me easily on his knee.

I struggled to look up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Cool water is better for shock, but-" The faucet blasted to life. I jumped, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I just railed you into next week, so warm is probably better."

"Shock? I don't understand."

Hands the size of mitts cradled me. Knobby fingers combed through my hair. Within minutes, hot steam curled up from the tub and caressed my back.

"We'll have to get these off, sweet pea," he whispered while unbuttoning my shirt. "Can you do that?"

I barely nodded. I still wasn't entirely in my body. As Jermaine helped me out of my blouse, I dipped my feet into the water. That felt pretty good.

I slid the shirt over my head and tossed it aside, easing myself from his lap to the tub. Hot water sloshed over my thighs. It crawled up my torso and caressed my breasts just as Jermaine had done minutes ago. I slouched into the massive tub, peering up at the man who didn't seem to mind taking care of me.

I couldn't understand why.

He twirled his finger in the water. "You alright?"

"I think so."

"What happened?"

I frowned. "I'm not sure. What did you do?"

"Well, I asked if you were hungry and then I stretched."

A flash of light split my vision. I closed my eyes, pressing my palms to my eyelids to push the image away. It came regardless.

"Elva?"

Jermaine's voice was too far away. Shame coiled to the surface. Hands took my shoulders.

I opened my eyes. "When I was a kid, my parents would hit me."

He drifted back an inch.

I wanted to curl into myself, but there was no going back now. He knew. I couldn't deny it.

I had to keep going. "For anything. For everything. Didn't matter what. They wouldn't let me eat unless I did something for them. An exchange." I rolled my eyes away from him. "My dad called it working for my meal."

"As a kid?"

"Yeah, as a kid." I looked at him. "I was five. He made me do chores just for scraps. It was shitty."

He swallowed hard. "Where are they?"

"They're dead, Jermaine. They died in a house fire. My Uncle Irvin got me out in time. I told him to rescue them, but..."

"They didn't deserve to be rescued."

My fists ached. It wasn't until I saw the trickle of blood coming from Jermaine's shoulders that I realized I was digging my nails into him.

I pulled my claws back. "F**k, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry, Elva. Never be sorry about that." He gently cradled my face. "You can scratch me up all you want. I can take it. I promise."

Genuine affection sat in his gaze. Nobody could have convinced me otherwise. What I saw in his eyes was real. He meant what he said.

And he was gearing up for more.

"I'm never going to let that happen to you, understand?" he vowed. "You'll never have to worry about being harmed. You'll never be met with it. And I'll never do such a thing to you. Whatever you want to give me is fine by me, Elva. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to give me things just to get things from me."

My lip quivered. "It's just the law of exchange. People do it with money all the time. It's just-"

He kissed my forehead. "No, Elva, no. We don't do that in this family. We watch out for each other and we make sure we have enough. Alright?"

"...Alright."

His smile warmed me. His promise made my heart soar. It was true. Men like Jermaine just didn't exist out in the world. I had seen it and done it all-and done just about every person possible.

Not one of them was like Jermaine. And I never wanted anyone else. I only wanted him.

For as long as I could possibly have him.

He kissed my lips. After a long while, he sat back and grabbed a towel, dipping it into the warm water. I relaxed into the tub, watching his reverent motions as he swept the soapy towel over my skin.

To be cleaned was one thing, but this felt like worship. The way he caressed my body made me feel like a goddess. It made me feel good.

And it also made me feel bad for enjoying it.

Not because the only family I had left didn't like him. Not because I never quite got attention like this. Not even because it scared me a little bit to enjoy it.

But because I wasn't sure how long it would last.