I strode through the hallways of the Fortress, the hint of winter's chill making my skin feel clammy under my sweaty tank top. East coast winters were nothing compared to the icy cold I had grown up with in the far north, but goosebumps still crawled over my skin. Or maybe it was just because I felt restless, even after all the exertion.
The cozy comfort of dinner with my sleuthmates had long faded. I had procrastinated as long as I could after the meal, but eventually, when Serena had started dozing off onto Smirkums' shoulders, I couldn't wait any longer. I sent the lovebirds to bed, checked in on Jason—who was trying to work a financial miracle to cover the medical bills from my injuries on Assateague Island—but he'd shooed me away with impatience.
"You don't even know how insurance claims work," he said. "You're only going to make this harder."
Without my people or my work to distract me, I had accepted my grim fate.
Physical therapy.
If only my supernatural strength made the Therabands easier. Therabands, plural. Said supernatural strength had already snapped eight of them, so I had to use three of the tightest black bands together to work my muscles back into full functionality. At least I wasn't hurting anymore. Not all time. Sure, there were certain angles that stressed the ligaments through my left shoulder and down through my rib cage, but those healing pains were nothing like the stabbing hurt I'd felt the first few times I worked through my stupid Theraband regimen.
I'd taken to doing my therapy after meals, mostly because it was easier to convince myself to go sling my arms though the bands when I had a full belly and a happy attitude. With Rohan's cooking, that happened after every meal.
Well. It was impossible to not feel warm and wonderful when a man like Rohan cooked for me and my sleuth—showing care for my people was a huge turn on—but day after day after day of therapy meant the full-belly-happy effect didn't last as long as it had.
Instead, I felt frustrated. All the time. I wasn't allowed to go back to regular exercise, I was barely allowed to work out in my bear skin, and I definitely wasn't allowed to go back to my combat training, all of which stressed the Alpha. With the mysteries still hanging over my head surrounding Avarice and Tau, the sleuth magic inside me latched on to my frustration with my limited routines and doubled it.
I sped through that evening's therapy session, not skimping on my reps but going faster than I'd been instructed to, because I was at my wit's end. There was still one more week to go before I saw the healer again for my final checkup. Once I got cleared, I could go back to training and work the way I was itching to. There was nothing more vexing than flexing against the stupid therapy hands when all I wanted to do was punch the hanging sand bags in front of me.
And that wasn't the only frustration I was facing every day.
Without my usual outlets for all of my energy, and the pent-up aggression the Alpha stoked in me, I felt like my skin crawled with my hyperactivity. My paranormal senses picked up on every little stimulus and wouldn't let go. I constantly felt on edge, and the only way to ease those urges was to add another fucking Theraband.
I was so sick of it.
I had tried running, but even if I ran myself into the ground, on feet or on paws, it did very little to quell my growing needs.
So, that night after I forced myself through therapy, I found myself stomping back toward the kitchen. I'd been eating more than normal while I was healing, and using food as reward after making myself push through therapy was a small silver lining I looked forward to.
A tantalizing scent wafted through the air. I paused, lifting my new nose a little so I could sample the smell better.
Yeast.
Rohan was preparing bread. Hoping that there might be freshly baked hot carbs in my near future, I couldn't stop myself from jogging the rest of the way to the kitchen... and then I froze in the doorframe.
Rohan was alone kneading dough, and it was a good thing, too, because the sight of him made me start drooling with possessive desire. He stood over the kitchen counter, shirtless. I saw his T-shirt lying over the back of a chair, speckled with white—flour. I was delighted that he hadn't bothered with an apron after the spill. His muscles bulged and contracted as he kneaded the dough. He shaped it with expert precision, but all I really noticed was the way his fingers massaged the formless ball with both tenderness and firm pressure.
An overwhelming urge surpassed my exasperated hunger. Sparks of heat sizzled through my nervous system, blanking out all other thoughts.
I forgot about bread. I forgot about the Therabands. I forgot all about decency.
There was nothing so tantalizing as a treat just out of reach, and since Assateague, I hadn't been able to taste the man I had been craving. I'd wanted to, but my injuries—especially my nose—had kept us from indulging in the pleasure we'd been longing for.
I couldn't wait. Not one more night, not one more hour, not one more minute. I'd be damned if an official clean bill of health kept me from what I wanted.
Rohan hadn't noticed me, and the predator I was loved creeping closer while watching every ripple of his muscles. I fixated on the rhythm of his breath as he worked the dough. I obsessed over the smell of the sweat beading along his skin.
Rohan was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice me stalking him until I got all the way to the counter where he was working. He started and stumbled back, his hands coming up. I didn't take offense at his defensive reaction; after all, he'd just come face-to-face with a very hungry bear.
"Damn, Lucky," he said. "You almost gave me a heart attack."
Even startled, his voice tempted salacious thoughts... thoughts I was done restricting to my daydreams.
Desire lit my eyes as I prowled around the counter and lifted myself up on to the edge where'd he'd been working. I swatted the bowl with the remaining flour and yeast mixture out of my way and it clanged to the floor. I ignored the flour I'd spread all over my clothes, the counter, and the floor. Rohan didn't dare look at the mess I'd made, either.
"Lucky..." Rohan started.
I licked my lips, and he snapped his mouth shut with a soft gasp. His breathing sped up, his heartrate spiked, and the alluring smell of testosterone surged in his scent.
I swung my legs around so I was sitting on the edge of the counter, facing him, wanting him. I spread my legs leaned back on my hands and pushed my chest forward.
The ball of dough forgotten, Rohan only had eyes for me. I could have purred under his total attention, but thankfully I still used my words. Without his understanding kinsense, words were good.
"Am I interrupting?" I asked.
Rohan gulped, and my eyes latched onto the sight of his Adam's apple moving up and down. My eyes kept going down, tracing the dip in his collarbone, the valley between his pectorals, the ridges of his abs, and down to the hem of his waistline.
"Lucky, you're... You're not..."
I licked my lips. "I'm not what?"
Rohan's mouth hung open, words forgotten. His eyes glazed over with need that I'd been feeling for months but couldn't act on.
"We shouldn't," he said.
But I heard it in his tone of voice. The weakness. That he didn't believe his own words.
I grabbed the hem of my shirt and dragged it up and over my body. I wasn't wearing a sports bra under the tight fabric designed for exercise. The groan that came out of Rohan's mouth made me shiver. Desire kindled a fire so hot between my legs that it made me squirm.
I didn't just want him. I needed him. I needed to feel those biceps flexing around me, taste the spices mixed into his sweat, feel his body moving against mine in synchronized rhythm.
"Shouldn't we?" I asked. As I said the words, I brought my hands to my belt, undoing the buckle and sliding the leather through my belt loops. The clink as the metal belt buckle hit the floor was the only sound apart from the pounding of Rohan's heart.
"You haven't been cleared yet," he said.
I lost all self-control the moment I'd walked through the kitchen doors, so I brazenly dragged my fingertips up my knees, along my thighs, over my hipbones, and up my chest, my fingers teasing my skin.
"Is that all you have to say?" I asked.
Rohan's hands clenched into fists. He grit his teeth—I could hear it—making the vein along his neck stand out.
I couldn't help myself. I pushed off the counter and closed the distance between us in the blink of an eye. If he was surprised by my sudden and supernaturally fast movement, I couldn't see it in his lustful stare.
Standing so close together, his body heat radiated against my skin. His nose was only an inch away from mine, our eyes locked in an intense battle between self-control and lust.
"I don't want to hurt you," Rohan whispered.
He didn't use that tone of voice that made me melt, but the care in his tone heightened my desire. That he would put me before his physical need—which I could practically feel growing between us—drove me wild.
"But I want you to please me," I said in my most seductive voice.
My words fractured Rohan's indecision. His lips took mine with rough passion as he gripped my wrists and tugged my hands away. His hands ran up my bare stomach and over my ribs. A needy groan filled his throat as my tits finally filled his palms.
I plunged my tongue into his mouth with rapturous joy. I'd been craving so much more than gentle kisses and sweet touches for so long. My body thrummed with the desperate need sapping at my patience. I wrapped one hand around his back and the other around his neck, pulling him closer so no air slipped between our heated skin. I trusted my instincts to hold on to the bare minimum control necessary to keep me from hurting him with my unbridled strength, and I trusted him to let me know if I was going too far.
He didn't resist or flinch or seem turned off by the physical reminder of my immense strength. Instead, he moaned into my mouth, ground his thick erection against my lower belly, and pulled me closer, too
It felt incredible to give into the carnal urges I'd been feeling, but I trembled with wet anticipation when Rohan leaned in, pressed closer, and wanted more even with my arms locked around him. No partner before had grown harder when I held them back. No person before had treated my overwhelming strength as sexy.
I hitched one leg up and over his hip, but Rohan let go of my chest with one hand and grabbed my calf. He pulled back from kissing me, a gleam in his eye I'd never quite seen before. The glint in his deep brown gaze was both possessive and commanding, almost arrogant, and utterly focused on me.
I shimmied my hips—wishing I'd already stripped my pants, too—preparing to tease him, when Rohan surprised me. Quickly, he moved his other hand around my neck, applying just enough pressure to exhilarate me and tempt my bear. The physical aggression didn't trigger the Alpha because of my trust in him and desire for him, allowing me to react naturally.
The hint of being choked reached something deeper than my lust. There was so much more to the action than the simple dance between predator and prey I couldn't help but think of when he'd reached for my neck. A sense of release came with surrendering control that I'd never felt before, and it built a visceral connection between Rohan and me that transcended physical pleasure.
I quivered under his grip, waiting. Listening. Hoping. With his dark eyes locked with mine, he gripped my neck, and my leg wrapped around his waist, we created a moment of unspoken communication that didn't need kinsense or supernatural senses—just breath and touch.
He felt me submit to his hold, and I felt his cock grow impossibly larger against me.
I whimpered and set my hands to sliding my athletic pants down. Rohan, again, surprised me. He led me by his grip on my neck back toward the counter. He finally let me go and then spun me around so we were standing back-to-front. He took my wrists and held my hands out toward the counter.
"Bend over."
His hot breath tantalized the sensitive skin on my neck, and the sound of his voice promised pleasure. I hinged at my hips, pushing my ass against his dick, and leaned forward, supporting my weight against the counter.
Rohan shivered—I could feel it in my hips—and both his hands started to play in circles along my naked back.
I shut my eyes with a groan, focusing all my sensory attention on what Rohan was doing behind me. I pushed against the counter and arched my back, seeking deeper contact.
Rohan's hands moved to my waist, his thumbs sloping down my lower back and tugging on the back hem of my pants.
"Please," I gasped. "Please stop teasing."
Rohan growled, the deep noise sounding amused, then his body heat vanished from behind me. He yanked my pants down to my knees. The bunched fabric held my legs together even though I wanted to spread my thighs wide for him.
Then, a single finger traced up my skin from the top of my pants. I shuddered harder and harder with excitement as the touch drew closer to my slit... but he stopped. Just before his finger would bring satisfaction, he stopped.
I shook my hips with frustration and couldn't contain my outburst.
"Dammit, Rohan!"
Lightning fast, Rohan spanked me. Not hard, but not a light tap, either. The sensation tingled on my overstimulated skin.
"No complaining," he said. "Ask me nicely."
I gritted my teeth together and dug my fingers into the countertop. His words roused the Alpha, but a sudden and unexpected wave of heat coursing through my mind, spreading over my body, and dripping from between my legs washed away the magical force that bound me to my sleuth.
I... I'd never known before that I liked ceding control. I liked being handled. I liked being ordered. And I loved it when it was Rohan.
"P-please," I stammered. I liked it, but the feeling was still new and the words came to my lips with rushed eagerness instead of comfortable foreplay. "Please, Rohan, t-touch me. For real."
"Good girl," he said in his lowest, most seductive tone.
I'd hadn't heard quite that tone of voice from him yet. Rougher with need, deeper with possessive instinct, and smoother with confidence, that lustful voice alone was all the foreplay I needed, but still Rohan gave me more.
Three fingers stroked up my slick pussy. I let out a needy moan and arched my back further, reaching for more contact, and Rohan obliged. He stroked me again before stretching two fingers out and rubbing my clit. I don't know what noise I made exactly, but I keened with pleasure as his touch finally eased the burning need building at the base of my spine.
Rohan rubbed my clit in small circles, the pressure constant no matter how I squirmed, fueling the fire between my legs. Each touch heightened sensation. Each stroke sent shivers out from my spine. Each circle elevated me closer to climax.
"Ro-Rohan, please," I panted. "It's too much."
Rohan's breath tickled my skin as he pressed a hot kiss to my back.
"Then ask," he commanded.
"Please finger me."
Rohan's free hand squeezed my left cheek as one finger slowly slid inside me. I gasped as the penetration satisfied my immediate need and teased what was bigger. Rohan finger fucked me slowly, at half the speed of my panting, while his left hand squeezed and caressed my ass.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, his voice silky smooth and sultry soft.
"Yes, yes," I said, pushing back against his finger. "More."
Rohan pushed just the tip of a second finger in. I moaned as the feeling stretched me wider. I wanted nothing more than to whip around, throw Rohan to the ground, and indulge in the greedy desperation that focused on the feeling of his fingers. I wanted a lot more. I wanted his thick, hard cock throbbing inside me. I wanted ass-bruising thrusts. I wanted to lose myself in the sense of him pumping into me, then drown in the taste and smell of him all over me.
"Like that?" he asked.
"More!" I nearly yelled.
Rohan pushed three fingers inside me, his other hand dropping to keep pressure on my clit. I saw stars as he fingered me the way I had been dreaming of since the day I decided I wanted him to be mine. The stretching, the rubbing, the pumping—all of it crescendoed at once, pulling my body over the peak and into a gush of pleasure.
I moaned his name as I came around his fingers, my pussy contracting and squeezing as slick juices ran down Rohan's hand.
But my release didn't bring relief; instead, Rohan reached his dryer hand up and grabbed my neck again. I lifted from my low angle, responding to his touch, and his grip settled around my throat. Dripping from my orgasm, with Rohan's fingers both choking and still inside me, a feverish need grew in the deepest part of my belly.
Rohan squeezed his fingers around my throat before whispering.
"You need to be more quiet."
I whimpered. I'd do anything to keep his attention on me.
"Say it out loud," he said.
"I will be more quiet," I said.
"Yes, you will," he repeated. "Now, you need to stop breaking the counter."
I blinked my eyes open and noticed the pressure I'd been exerting through my hands had left a fracture in the tile. I softened my grip, but couldn't stop my arms from shaking. My nerves were too tightly wound to relax without a physical outlet.
"That's right," Rohan said. "Now. Do not move."
I clenched my muscles, but keeping still is difficult when he moved his hands away from me. I closed my eyes again to push back the temptation to watch him—I don't dare move and risk any more teasing delay—and used all of my other senses to track his movements as he undid his pants.
The slide of his belt buckle made me shiver. The sound of his zipper made me gulp. The rustle of fabric as he dropped his pants made my body weak.
Extreme heat brushed against my pussy, and I gasped. Rohan's hand came around my neck when I made the sound, pulling me up so his body pressed flush against mine. My fingers barely still touched the counter.
It was the first time I'd felt his naked cock against me. The rigid length spread my ass cheeks, just gently, and the tip felt hot on the small of my back. A dribble of precum trickled onto my skin, slightly sticky and smelling so good I couldn't help a sensual groan. I parted my lips so I could better sense the aroma of his arousal mixing with my own hormones.
The swirling scents were so alluring they're almost addictive; I wanted to turn around and lick Rohan from head-to-toe, but the way he gripped my throat kept me compliant. Ready. Excited.
His other hand reached around my waist, fingers grazing over my skin. The light touch electrified my senses, especially when he grabbed my hip and pulled hard. I growled in needy frustration at the friction against my ass.
"Do you want more?" Rohan asked, his sensual voice ringing in my ears.
"Yes, now," I said.
"Then..."
Rohan took both my hands again and urged them back onto the counter. I moved back into position and arched my back toward him, so eager I'm already panting.
Rohan rubbed the head of his cock between my wet lips twice—making me moan with desperation—the pressure hot and hard and heavenly, before thrusting into me. Having already cummed, my slick pussy tightened around Rohan's dick with every inch he slowly pushed inside. I jerked and moaned when his cock slid over my g-spot, but he didn't stop. He did, though, squeeze his fingers around my hips.
He gave me everything on that first thrust, using his grip to leverage more friction. The penetration after weeks of physical buildup and minutes of expert fingering shocked my system with delight. My head flung back, a breathy chuckle escaping between my excited gasps.
Pressure vanished from my right hip, then Rohan's fingers nestled into the messy, sweaty braid I still wore. He took control over my head, arching me back slowly. The increased pressure as his cock pushed a fraction deeper made us both groan.
"Rohan," I said, my voice sounding a little hoarse.
He angled my head, his touch firm but the movement slow. I liked how he took control but was careful with me—a trait that made me crave him even more.
He positioned me so we made eye contact over my shoulder. For the steadiness in his hands, Rohan looked like he was on the verge of breaking. Sweat gleamed on his skin, and his frame shook with the effort it took to focus on my pleasure instead of his own. He panted, his sensual lips parted. His brows hung low over dark glittering eyes that were fully focused on me.
"I want to hear you beg for it," Rohan said. His voice was so deep and strained with sexual need that the sound wiped all thought from my mind.
I made a soft guttural sound in the back of my throat—more purr than growl—and I contracted my muscles in a slow ripple. My pussy squeezed around Rohan in a carnal invitation, but Rohan pulled back on my head tighter.
"Say it."
His sexy voice pulled me out of primal instincts. I released my muscles and gave into the pressure on the back of my head, fully arching my spine and softening into his grip on my hip. The sensation as I submitted left us both shivering, but I made sure I didn't break our eye contact.
"Please, Rohan," I begged. "Please fuck me."
His grip tightened around my hip and my hair before he slowly pulled out almost entirely before pumping into me again, at a wickedly slow pace. I groaned, the sound loud and needy, and Rohan gave me a dirty smile that made my skin tingle with anticipation.
Rohan didn't keep my head at that angle, even though it meant I couldn't watch the satisfied smirk on his face every tie he pushed into me. He returned my spine to straight, then thrusted into me a little rougher than before, but still so slow that I trembled in his grasp, my body wanting him to go faster but loving the sensation and size of his cock.
After four deliciously deliberate thrusts, Rohan pulled out just enough so his tip rubbed against my g-spot. I didn't jerk in his grip again, since he'd so thoroughly fucked me as deep as we could gom but I sighed with expectant pleasure when he started pumping, shallow so he stayed in place but building in tempo.
I let my weight down onto my forearms, since my elbows started to feel stiff, and enjoyed how the changed angle helped Rohan's thrusts feel deeper even though he was keeping to my g-spot.
When his cock moved in time with my excited panting, I started to feel an urge to pee. The feeling stimulated my entire pelvic region, making my internal muscles pulse in time with Rohan. I started moaning a tiny bit with each pump of his dick.
More hormones started pouring into Rohan's scent, and the hand that had been controlling me from the back of his head moved. He stroked down my spine, squeezed my ass, then curled his hand over my hip and down. It took only a moment for his fingers to find my clit again. His fingertips slid in fast circles, my slick juices lubing the friction.
Between his dick and his fingers, Rohan fucked me until my mind went numb with wave after wave after wave of electric pleasure zinging through my system. I didn't last even three minutes.
I came harder and wetter than before, squirting around his cock. The combination of the longer-lasting g-spot orgasm with the hot intensity of his rubbing my clit had me crooning his name over and over as my body crumpled into the countertop, uncontrollably shivering. Heat spread across my sweaty skin, bringing a flush to my cheeks, and I twisted from my submissive position so I could see his face.
Rohan bent over me, his arms quaking with the control it took to support me as I quivered from my climax. His face spasmed every time my pussy convulsed again with a protracted wave of pleasure.
I reached one hand back and grabbed his thigh. It was the only part of him I could reach with my muscles clenching and releasing with my orgasm still wracking my body.
"Fuck me," I whispered.
Rohan's eyes jerked up to mine, his expression desperate and pleading.
"I'm begging you," I said.
Rohan looked like he hesitated for one moment before both hands were back on my hips—his grip tighter than ever, but I loved the pressure.
Rohan pulled his throbbing cock out almost all the way, again, before thrusting into me with unleashed speed and strength. Subconsciously, my bear is deeply satisfied by the way Rohan is giving into hedonistic urges using my sweat-slicked body. There's a possessiveness in my spirit that latched onto the way he looked at me, the way he smelled like me, the way he fucked me.
Mine.
I felt Rohan's release building—his cock grew impossibly harder, bigger, and hotter inside me. His thrusts became frantically faster, and his splayed one hand on the small of my back to hold my angle steady.
I'm so thoroughly stimulated and my drawn out orgasm was only just fading, so I was surprised when Rohan's pumping started to raise my arousal for a third time.
"Rohan, I'm... I'm..." but I couldn't finish.
He understood, though. He grunted and growled as he struggled to maintain the speed and friction without giving in himself, but he did it. When we were both moaning in needy pants, our bodies shaking in unison, Rohan reached down again and rubbed my clit until I reached my third climax.
With the first pulse of my pussy, Rohan reached for my braid again, but he pulled me all the way up. The change of angle pulled his dick out from as deep as he'd been, but he brought our bodies flush together, our lips finding one another as he finally came inside me.
***
After, Rohan and I looked around the kitchen in a bewildered daze. As much as I wanted to drag Rohan upstairs and into the shower for a second round, we had to clean up. Thankfully our efforts had not disturbed the dough he'd been working on, but the flipped flour bowl really had scattered the remnants of the powder everywhere. Ironically, the shirt Rohan had dirtied before was one of the few things spared from a complete coating of white.
I would have to be meticulous in cleaning up all the flour leftover from our passionate activities. I would be mortified if the lovebirds ever found out, so I would make sure there wouldn't be a single speck of flour left.
Rohan chuckled when I grumbled my worry to him, the sound sultry and smooth.
"Then I think we need to clean every surface in here," he said.
I laughed, finally free of my frustration, and urged my limp limbs to move.
"I think we need to sterilize the whole room, and then I want to do it again."
Rohan gave me a wicked grin, and his voice dropped into a register that made me tingle from head to toe.
"As soon as we can go upstairs with clean hands... it would be my pleasure."