Santa Paws: BBW Holiday Bear Shifter Romance (Christmas Bear Brothers Book 1) (3 page)

If Santa comes
, Vicky thought. Then her old, familiar guilt caught hold of her, and she wanted to take back her acceptance of sharing Christmas with others. How would she be able to stand the disappointment on Sorcha’s face when there were no presents under the tree? When it was all her fault?

“Thank you so much for asking me, Marla,” Vicky said politely.

“If you’re free before then, come and say hello,” Marla said, pulling her coat around her as she went out of the door. “This snow looks set to continue, and we might get snowed in.”

Vicky looked up at the heavy skies. “You might be right.” Would that serve as an excuse for Santa not showing up? No. Everyone believed in his magic. Everyone believed in Christmas.
Everyone but you
.

“Hey, wait,” a voice called.

She was just shutting the door when he came skidding across the courtyard. The snow had begun to settle again, making it icy and treacherous.

“Oh. I didn’t … feel you coming,” she said, her hand going to the back of her neck and rubbing it. “Now I do.”

“Weird, isn’t it?” he said, grinning. “Can I come in?”

She still held the door half open, feeling nervous as he approached. He was everything a woman could ask for, and more. Tall, dark haired, cut short at the neck and sides. His shoulders were broad, just right for leaning on while curled up on the sofa in front of a roaring fire. She swallowed her desire.

If she didn’t watch herself she would be dragging him off to bed right now. Not that he would mind: the look in his eye told her he felt exactly the same. Deep inside, her body stirred into life. He held a promise of a future filled with love and happiness; all she had to do was reach out and grab it.

“Of course.” She pulled the door back open and stood to the side, allowing him to brush past her, setting her skin on fire. “Shall I take your coat?”
And the rest of your clothes
.

“Thanks.” He shrugged out of his coat, and she took it from him and hung it on the hook by the door. Melted snow glistened on it like the stars on a dark, frosty night. She touched one of the droplets, feeling it cold on her fingertip. Would it be cold and frosty on Christmas Eve?

“Can I get you anything?” she asked him.

You
, said the answer in his eyes.

“Damn it. I should have brought some wine with me. But I didn’t have time to stop. Well, I didn’t want to spare the time,” he said hurriedly. “I was afraid you might have run away, or that I had imagined you.”

“No. I’m here and very real.”

He smiled, and her insides turned to liquid fire. Was it right for her to sleep with him although they had only just met? Who was she kidding, they had known each other their whole lives—or that was how it felt as she fell into his arms.

All of his Christmases had come at once, and his birthdays too. She was warm, curvy, with a voluptuous figure just right for him to hold in his arms. She sighed against his lips as they kissed, and any fears he had that she might not feel the same way about him were gone. Then again, they were bonded mates: they were born to be together, whether they liked it or not.

But he liked her, and he planned to make her want him, love him, if that was possible. Then he wouldn’t have to settle for being an uncle; he would be a father. He imagined his little cubs running around excitedly at Christmas waiting for Santa to arrive.

His cock hardened at the thought of putting a child in her belly.

“Do you want to take it slow?” he asked.

“No,” she said breathlessly. “I think we both want the same thing.”

Yet he felt her apprehension. “I can wait. If you want to talk for a while, get to know each other.”

“Don’t you want me?” she asked, her hand slipping down to curl around his cock.

His breath hissed through his lips. “I want you more than you could ever know,” he said, his arms going around her and pulling her close. “But I don’t want you to regret this in the morning. We have the rest of our lives together; I can wait a little while if you want.”

“Take me to bed, Dermot,” she said.

He pulled back. “Wait, I don’t even know your name.”

“Vicky. Vicky Vixen.” He smiled, as everyone did. “I know, stupid name, but I’m stuck with it.”

“Until you marry me,” he said. “It’s very good to meet you, Vicky, and is that what you are? A vixen?”

“No. I’m not.” She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him fiercely. He guessed she didn’t want to talk anymore, and although he wanted to know all he could about her, he wasn’t complaining when she allowed him to slide his tongue into her mouth.

She tasted sweet on his tongue and smelled delicious, setting all his senses alight. His arousal grew, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his whole life.

“Bedroom?” he asked.

“Through there,” she pointed, her voice breathy with desire.

“Do you want us to go there now?” he asked, leaving the meaning hanging in the air.

“Yes.” She took his hand and led him out of the living room and into her bedroom, making it clear that this was what she wanted. “Oh, I haven’t finished unpacking.” Her suitcase sat on her bed, open and half empty.

“It doesn’t matter,” he answered, lifting the suitcase off and putting it on the chair, which stood in the corner of the room. “You won’t be needing your clothes. Any of them.”

Dermot reinforced his words, lifting her sweater over her head. Vicky raised her arms, helping him. His fingers then set to work opening the buttons of her shirt, one at a time. She shuddered with desire when he pushed her shirt from her shoulders, leaving her standing before him with only her bra covering her breasts. When he lifted his hands to stroke his fingers along the swell of her breasts, they trembled slightly, his desire overcoming him.

Lowering his head, he kissed her soft flesh, his hands going to the clasp of her bra. Dermot captured her breasts in his hands, her skin warm to his touch. “You are beautiful,” he said, massaging her breasts in his hands, his thumbs going to rub her nipples until they became hardened peaks.

Then he couldn’t resist flicking his tongue over the taut buds, feeling her shiver with desire. Vicky threaded her hands around his neck, stroking his skin, holding his head in place. The thought that she was enjoying the feel of him as he licked and sucked her breasts made his cock harden and long for release. First, he wanted to make sure she was relaxed, wet and ready for him to enter her and make love to her until she cried out in ecstasy.

She knew it was moving too fast, but she couldn’t stop it, and didn’t want to stop it. If any of her normal, human friends had told her they had slept with a man they had only just met, she would have told them they were stupid. Yet here she was, half-naked, with Dermot sucking her breasts, making heat pool between her thighs and her clit ache for his mouth to lick her there too.

Her cheeks flushed at the thought. That would be too much, too intimate. But damn it, if she didn’t want him to stroke and lick every part of her body.

He broke away from her breasts, and she wanted to object, but when he stood before her and began to remove his clothes, she decided that seeing him naked was worth the loss, but only for a moment.

First, he undid his shirt, and her fingers itched to run across his smooth chest and touch his nipples; then she would follow the trail down lower, to touch his cock, which was bulging in his pants. No. Wait, he was undoing his belt and dropping his pants. She no longer had to imagine what he looked like.

She didn’t have to worry about whether he wanted her, it was much too obvious. His huge cock was proud and erect in front of him. Vicky came towards him and reached out to touch him, fascinated by him. Silken skin covered a hard rod of desire; she stroked her hand up and down his length, listening to his sharp intakes of breath.

“Why don’t you get naked too,” he whispered when he finally had some control over his emotions. His hands were fumbling as he tried to focus, while her hands stroked his cock. Then he hardened his resolve to undress her, and his hands went to her jeans and undid the button. Pushing them down off her hips, he let them fall to the floor. “Step out,” he commanded.

She did as he asked, trying not to think about how naked she was, in front of this man who was a complete stranger. But he was her mate too. She had to keep telling herself that. They might have just met, but they were everything to each other. From the moment they met, they were each other’s world, and he might just be the thing to fill the emptiness in her heart.

Dermot moved closer, his hands cupping her breasts, massaging them in his large hands. It felt divine, and the heat between her legs grew in intensity, her sex throbbing to be touched and teased in the same way. Although part of her wanted to draw back and hide from him.

Inside her head, her reindeer stood alert, wanting to join with her mate, wanting to complete their relationship in the most primal way. Vicky wanted the same thing, and Dermot knew how to give her what she needed.

He led her to the bed, easing her down and then lying next to her, stroking her skin, caressing her body with his fingers. She lay still, barely breathing as he brought her to the height of her arousal. She wanted him inside her.

“Please,” she said, urging him on.

“Are you sure?” He kissed her, his lips firm on hers, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. As he drew back, questioning her, she knew that she had never wanted anything more in her life. She needed him. Maybe Mrs. McKinley was right and the reason to come to Bear Bluff was so that she would find Dermot. Perhaps he was the thing she needed to turn her life around.

“Yes,” she answered, burying her head in his shoulder, nipping his skin, drawing her tongue along his neck, and then sucking on his ear lobe until he groaned in submission.

Dermot moved his hand down over her stomach, his fingers brushing her mound, and then he rubbed them against her clit, making her world explode. She whimpered against his neck, taking in the scent of him, allowing it to reassure her.

Taking her courage in her hands she opened her legs for him, allowing him to press deeper. Dermot moved, slowly, gently, teasing her with his fingers, feeling her heat. Confident she was ready for him, he moved, his body slipping between her thighs, and he lifted his weight onto one elbow, and used his free hand to guide himself into her wet sex.

She tensed at the invasion, and he comforted her, telling her it was all right. Trying to relax, she lifted her hand to stroke his back, feeling the hard muscles under his skin as he tensed and relaxed, moving to press deeper inside her. Then he stopped: what was wrong?

“I’ll take it slow,” he said, “and try not to hurt you.” He pressed forward, and then thrust harder, ripping through her innocence. She gasped, her nails digging into his flesh.

Breathe
, she told herself.

Dermot eased back out of her, and then thrust forward again, his cock rubbing against her inner walls. As the pain subsided, she began to allow herself to enjoy him making love to her. Soon, the only sensations she felt were good ones, his body worshipping hers with each long lunge in and out of her.

He kissed her neck, along her collarbone, and then moved his body so he could claim her nipple in his mouth. She gasped as he grazed his teeth over it, the hard bud sending wonderful signals to her brain, which heightened her arousal until she felt her orgasm so close she could reach out and touch it.

Wrapping her legs around him, she urged him on, and he responded, confident now she was enjoying his affections. Harder, faster, he took her. She lifted her hips to meet him with each thrust, wanting to be his equal, to have some part in the pleasure that was unfolding between them.

Then he lunged forward hard, pressing deep inside her and crying out in pleasure. His cock pulsed inside her, his seed spurting deep into her sex and filling her with the potential of life. Would they conceive a child? She hadn’t given it any thought, and as quickly as the idea came to her, it was swept away by her climax, which crashed into her, making her cry out his name.

He kissed her, caressed her as she came back down to Earth. They were both utterly spent, their breathing laboured, bodies moist with heat, but mingled in with that was satisfaction. They had found each other and learned they fitted together perfectly.

Vicky closed her eyes, wanting to savour this moment with him. All the anxiety she had suffered over the last few months melted away. She wanted to stay here with him, cocooned from the world for as long as possible.

And then her phone rang.

“It’s OK. Leave it,” she said when he reached to pass her the phone, which was on the nightstand.

“What if it’s important?” he asked and grabbed it, passing it to her. “I don’t mind, if that's what you're worried about. My brothers are always calling me at the worst possible times.”

She took it, and looked at the number on the display. Her face flushed red; she couldn’t answer it, not with Dermot there. “It’s OK. No one important,” she said as she let it ring.

“You sure?” He looked at her, reading her face. She couldn’t look at him, and turned away, putting her phone down.

“Absolutely. I’ll speak to them when they call back.”

And right on cue, the phone began to ring again. She held her breath, what should she do?

“Would you mind giving me a moment while I take it? I’ll tell them I’m busy.”

“Sure,” he said, slipping out of bed and pulling his pants on. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please. Milk, no sugar.” She held the phone to her chest, waiting for him to go out of the room before answering it. “Yes?”

“Vicky, thank goodness,” a worried voice exclaimed.

“What do you want?” she asked. “I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what? Do you know what day it is?” the voice asked.

“Of course I do,” she hissed. “But I told you, I can’t help you.”

“You at least have to try.”

“I have tried, but something is wrong.”

“You could still come,
he
might be able to help you,” the man’s voice said, a hint of desperation contained in his words.