Protecting a Mate (4 page)

“Yeah. Built from the ground up with my own two hands.”

Pride rang in his voice as he got out of the truck and strode around to open her door. For a moment he debated picking her up and carrying her into his house—his den—but decided against it.

Although it appealed to his cavebear instincts, he wanted to ensure she had at least the illusion of choice here.

“It’s lovely. Very…masculine.” She paused as she looked up at the structure and he had to admit he’d gone for strength and construction rather than aesthetics when he’d built it. Stone and wood combined in a low slab of a building with an imposing front porch whose door wouldn’t have looked out of place on a small castle. High windows were shuttered against the day’s heat to keep the interior cool, but gave off a…well, it was the modern equivalent of a cave, he realized.

“Hmmm, it could do with some flowers maybe?”

It could do with a hell of a lot more than flowers, but she didn’t say that aloud. She might have tossed off a lot of the Baxter ideals in an effort to be, well,
normal
, but she still did have the urge to be polite.

“It’s lovely.” She smiled widely. “I can’t wait to see the rest.”

So I can make a list of changes because I’m sure I’m about to move into a bachelor pad.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he opened what had to be a three hundred pound door and let her stride past him into…

She’d have to hire a maid service before she did anything else. It wasn’t
bad
, but— Nope, it was just bad. He didn’t have open food containers hanging around—thank God—but his clothes were strewn everywhere. Furniture was off kilter, making her wonder how the hell
that
happened, and then she focused on what it looked like.

Black. Leather.

Everywhere. And one whole wall was taken up by a flat screen television. Okay, not the whole wall, but
a lot
of it.

One good thing she could say was it was big. Though, considering her mate was a bear that made sense.

Foster shifted his weight from foot to foot as she took in the space.

Mel tilted her head back and met his gaze, plastering that Baxter smile on her face. It was one she often reserved for her mother. “It’s great.”

That had him frowning and he sniffed the air before narrowing his eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Sniffing like that is rude.” She huffed.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t know you were lying.”

She hated that he was right. “It’s still rude.”

“Doll.”

Translation: Quit arguing already and tell me what the hell is wrong with my shit so we can move on.

“Fine.” She returned his glare. “It
will
be great.” She leaned toward him. “It’s a little too
bachelor
at the moment, but we can make it gorgeous. It has wonderful bones, Foster. You did a good job building this place. I can see it as a home for us and our family.”

That wiped away his glare and he replaced it with a sexy, sinful grin. “Wanna get started on that family?”

A rush of arousal burned through her veins and she was surprised at its intensity though she wasn’t sure why. The ferret wanted Foster—badly. Had since the moment they caught his delicious scent, the aromas of musky forest and man. She wanted to taste every inch of him, revel in his flavors, and bathe in them until she smelled like him.

And she wanted all of that. Now. Lotsa wanting… craving… needing more than air.

“Yeah. Show me the bedroom, Foster. Want you. Want you to be mine.”

Before she got the last syllable out, she was being dragged down a dim hallway and toward what she assumed was his bedroom.

She’d have to do something about the lighting. She could hardly see him!

Then all thoughts of lighting and decorating vanished because he hauled her into the master bedroom. While the rest of the house looked like a frat party gone wrong, this room was decorated in rich colors with heavy, dark furniture, and the bed was covered in a soft welcoming blanket and pillows. This was her bear, the very heart of her mate. He might not care about what the rest of the place looked like, but this was his true den—his haven.

“Foster,” she whispered, her ferret wiggling and chittering for release. It wanted to run and play in all of those pillows, roll in his scent and then shift back to skin so they could mate.

All of those hidey holes, the soft blankets, and her mate… Perfection.

“You can change it.” He pulled her closer. “Want you to love it like I do, Mel. Want you to be happy.”

Melanie slipped her hand from his and reached for him, cradling his face between her palms. “You and me? That makes me happy. This is just a house, Foster. Big picture, it doesn’t matter. Our mating does, our kits.”

“Cubs,” he murmured and she grinned.

“Kits, but it’s an argument we can have after I get pregnant.” She wiggled against him, blood heating with the idea of carrying his young. “Wanna help me out with that?”

“Yeah, doll. I do.”

With a growl, one that traveled straight to her pussy and then wrapped around her in a sensual hold, he pounced. For such a large bear, he was fast as hell and she found herself stripped down, layer by layer, before she had a chance to even blink.

She was lost in the arousing haze of his hands on her skin. Those deft fingers slid her shirt up her body and quickly tossed it aside. Then he unbuttoned her skirt, slipping it to her ankles and discarded her shoes as well.

Then his nails transformed into claws and he shredded her bra and panties. Leaving her nude… for him. She fought the instinctual cringe, the need to hide her plump curves from his gaze. She liked her lush body, but the cellulite that hung on her thighs… not so much.

But he didn’t look at that. Hell, he didn’t look at much beyond her breasts and then the juncture of her thighs. Once he got to her pussy, his attention stayed there.

“Need to taste you. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, voice hoarse and scratchy with desire.

His attention flicked to her face and his lips split into a tempting grin.

If he was tasting her… “I want you in my mouth, too. We can—”

His gaze skirted hers as he pushed to his feet. “Later. Need to taste you.”

“Wha—” She meant to ask him why he seemed reluctant to get a blow job—like, really?—but he sorta pushed her onto the bed, then stripped himself, and
then
he kinda pushed his way between her thighs and then his mouth was there, lips pressed to her pussy and tongue flicking her clit.

Okay, they could talk about it later. She’d also get a good look at all those muscles. All of it. Later.

It wasn’t a gentle coaxing or a gradual teasing. No, Foster delved right into her pussy. He licked and nipped her sensitive flesh, his fingers holding her open for his assault.

Melanie dug her fingers into his hair, burying her hands in the strands and gently fisting them. She held on as he tormented her center, tongue flicking and circling the tiny nubbin of pleasure. Each new touch, each caress, had her pleasure rising higher, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

She panted and moaned, twitching within his gentle grasp. She spread her legs wider, aching to have him closer. Hell, she’d love to have him
inside
her.

Oh, then part of him, slid into her sheath, fingers spearing her and spreading her wide. They also stroked her inner-walls, ghosting on that pleasurable bundle of nerves that had her gasping.

“
Foster
.”

“S’good. Mine. Sweet.” And he kept mumbling, those vibrations traveling from his lips straight to her clit and she lost herself to the sensations.

She rocked her hips against his mouth, reveling in the pleasure his touch incited. She propped herself on her elbows, staring down the roundness of her body, meeting Foster’s gaze. His eyes were full black, proof his bear was near the surface as he pleasured her and she loved that.

And couldn’t wait to love him. Not just his body—and it was a fan-fucking-tastic body—but his heart as well.

Someday.

But then thoughts of someday were brushed aside when Foster scraped one of his fangs over her swollen clit and she shouted with the sudden rush of pain-tinged pleasure. “Foster!”

He soothed the ache with a gentle lap of his tongue only to repeat the motion, drawing a whimper past her lips. She hated it and… loved it at the same time. The need to shy away warred with the overwhelming urge to get closer.

In the end, her pink bits and body’s desire to come won out. So she gave herself over to him; let him do whatever he desired.

She was along for the ride.

Releasing control let her focus on the ecstasy he caused, the bolts of pleasure that shot through her arms and the way her toes curled with each new rush. Her pussy clenched around his intrusion, milking his digits as if his cock was embedded in her sheath. Each withdrawal and penetration sent a new tsunami of bliss down her spine. Her whole body clenched, tightening in anticipation of the ultimate joy that threatened to overtake her.

Then the pleasure focused, narrowing until every thought became a pinpoint of decadence. She focused on it, each breath, each heartbeat, and each touch of his mouth on her flesh, sending her higher. Every flick of his tongue sent her closer to the precipice and she welcomed the release that was to come. Her ferret whined over not biting Foster, but Melanie assured the animal her time would come.

Soon…

“Melanie,” he growled low. “Give it to me.”

Who was she to deny him?

Her orgasm bolted forward, washing over her in a blinding roll of pleasure and ecstasy that stole her very breath. She released the air in her lungs with a soft whoosh and then her scream erupted into the air.

The bliss overtook her, stealing her control and she trembled and twitched in his hold as her pussy squeezed his fingers.

Soon it’d be his cock.

Foster gradually slowed his attentions, bringing her down from the mind-blowing orgasm and her first thought was all about getting him in her. Over and over again until they
both
screamed.

That was an excellent plan.

The moment she could breathe, she reached for him. Oh, wait, she was still gripping his hair.

The ferret told her to use that hold, so she tugged lightly, garnering his full attention.

“C’mere. Want you in me.”

He grinned, but a hint of something else lurked in his eyes. Did he not want this? “I want in you.”

With those mumbled words, it was gone and she decided she imagined the look.

“Then c’mere.”

Foster crawled up her body, his massive form hovering over hers. His cock was long and thick, hard and leaking a hint of pre-cum. Unquestionable proof of his need. She took the time to admire her mate, his thick muscles and the power he kept restrained as he came over her. She also admitted she checked out his dick again.

On all fours, he kept his weight from her as he stared down. She met his gaze, hoping he saw her need—her ferret’s need—for him. At his cocky, self-assured smile, she knew he had.

Any moment now he’d line up his cock, push himself deep into her pussy, and stretch her so deliciously well…

Which was why she squawked like a bird—not a ferret—when he lowered himself, moved his arms until she was snug in his embrace, and rolled them until she was atop
him
.

“Foster!” His name ended with a squeak and chitter and her cheeks burned with the press of her whiskers.

“Ride me, doll,” he murmured in her ear and she quickly scrambled upright, straddling his hips.

On one hand, the firm weight of his cock pressed tightly against her slick center was lovely.

On the other, she’d always imagined being dominated and taken by her mate when they finally came together. She was all for taking a ride, but not the first time out of the gate.

“Foster?” He ignored her question and gripped her hips, encouraging her to rock against his length.

It was so very, very tempting to allow herself to get lost in the pleasure, but she refused. This was not how things went, dammit.

“Foster.” She leaned forward and placed her palms flat on his pecs and squeezed. Her nails slowly sharpened, her ferret’s annoyance evident in her appearance. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong, doll?”

This is wrong.

That look, that quick flash of something she’d seen before, slithered over his features once more.

“Foster, what’s going on?”

“I’m claiming my mate.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t know much about males, but I guarantee everything inside you is dying to flip me over, fuck me, and claim me.”

Considering his cock took that moment to pulse, she figured she was right on the money. “So, why aren’t you doing that?”

“Melanie…” He tried to distract her by flexing his hips, but she wasn’t giving up.

“No.” She stared into his eyes, making sure he held her gaze. “Why aren’t you dominating me? I know your bear wants to. I know my ferret wants you to.”

Foster growled, his grip on her hips tightening almost to the point of pain and damn that felt good.

“I could hurt you. I refuse to do that. Maybe after my bear gets enough—”

She shook her head. Poor bear. “You would never hurt your mate. Ever.”

“Not intentionally,” he grumbled.

“Not ever.”

He rubbed small circles on her hip. “You’re so small, doll. Don’t want anything happening to you.”

“Foster,” she sighed. “As a ferret? Yeah, I’m small compared to your bear. We’re one of the smallest shifters around, but that doesn’t mean you should treat me like glass.” She bent down and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “Your bear isn’t banging my ferret; my man is claiming me. You may get fangy, but I’m still me. You won’t hurt me, baby.” She kissed him once more, lapping at the seam of his lips before pulling back. “I trust you with my life, with the life of our future kits—”

“Cubs.”

“And I know you won’t hurt me. So mate me, Foster. Make me yours in every way.”

The flare of his eyes and the prick of his nails on her hips told her she’d won.

Yippee!