Holly’s Grizzly (Monster Relations Bureau #4)

12

Irving

Holly surprises me by drawing me down onto the floor.

Like she’s too impatient, too eager to spare even the time it would take to get upstairs to my bed.

And I’m not about to make her wait.

I’m not about to do anything but make her comfortable as I tug at the pile of blankets on the couch so I can make a haphazard nest on the floor for us.

It’s not the most elegant solution, and it’s made even harder because I can’t seem to stop kissing her, touching her. I can’t disentangle myself from her for long enough to do a proper job of it, but oh well.

It’s perfect in its imperfection.

Just like Holly, just like us, just like this whole wondrous holiday.

As soon as we’re settled into those blankets, however, I get enough of a handle on myself to slow things down at least a little.

Now that we’re here, we’re going to savor this.

Holly is sprawled out beneath me, eyes glowing with desire and need, skin gleaming and golden, so godsdamn beautiful even in my old flannel.

The shirt hangs loosely enough on her slim frame that I could easily slip it over her head and toss it aside, bare her entirely, have her flushed and naked in the firelight in a matter of seconds.

But I’m a patient man.

If making myself a home in these woods and living with the seasons and patterns of nature has taught me anything, it’s that the best things in life can’t be rushed. The sun will rise in its own time and the rain will fall as long as it needs to. The longest, bitterest winters melt into the sweetest springs. A garden blooms and shares its abundance in equal measure to the time and care you put into tending it.

And the woman in my arms deserves seasons, years, decades to coax out every bit of pleasure life has to offer.

I know it as surely as I know I’ll never forget the sight of her flame-kissed blond hair spread wild and glorious over the blankets. I know it like I know I’ll be hearing the sounds she makes—all her moans and gasps and her bell-bright laugh—in my dreams for as long as I live to dream them.

I know it with each gentle touch, with each centimeter of soft golden skin exposed.

If Holly’s been taught to expect rushed touches and half-measures, if she’s been left wanting and disappointed by men who never deserved to touch her in the first place, then it’s my privilege to show her something different.

Starting with getting her naked.

I take my time undoing each button and lingering to explore all the way down. Sucking kisses against her collarbones and long, slow draws on her taut pink nipples, standing stiff and proud in the fire’s golden light. Feather-light brushes of my lips against her sternum and lower, making her squirm and giggle when I reach her navel.

Every inch is mine to adore, mine to worship, mine to savor.

And when I finally, finally settle myself between her thighs and glance up, she’s watching me with heavy, half-hooded eyes glazed over with pleasure. Her pretty cunt is swollen and glistening, just begging to be tasted, and the intoxicating aroma of her arousal perfumes the air between us.

I kiss my way up the inside of her thigh, dragging my teeth over warm, trembling flesh, and my grizzly growls his approval as she cants her hips, straining toward me, stretched as taut as a bowstring.

I get my mouth on her, and she cries out her pleasure. Back arching, hands tangling in my hair and pulling me closer, Holly is wild beneath me. She’s demanding and greedy in the most viscerally satisfying way. I want to stoke those flames even higher, feed her greed, show her she can demand anything and everything she wants from me and I’ll give it all to her.

I shift so I’m on my back on the blankets, and take her hips in a firm grip as I haul her over me.

Holly lets out a squeak of surprise when she realizes what I intend to do.

“Irving,” she breathes, a little trepidation in her voice even as her knees fall perfectly into place on either side of my head, her body settling over me like she’s done this a hundred times.

“Move however it feels right,” I tell her, voice a rumble against her inner thigh. “You take everything you need from me, sweetheart.”

She shifts, inching herself closer to my face, but still not letting herself go completely. I urge her forward with a firm grip on her ass, keeping her anchored and giving her permission to sink onto me, press that perfect, delicious cunt of hers against my face, soak my beard, sit on the throne that was made for her.

And when she does—body loose and trusting beneath my hands, head thrown back, a fractured moan ripped from her lips as I spear my tongue into her—I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

If she was glorious spread across the blankets, then like this she’s something else entirely.

Reservations gone, given full rein to take her pleasure, Holly is magnificent.

She arches back, resting her hands on my chest for balance and shoving her hips toward my face, grinding her cunt into my eager lips. I growl my pleasure into the softness of her, lap at her sweet arousal, squeeze her in encouragement and a command to continue. Holly cries out and writhes on me, nails scoring my skin and every muscle stretched and straining in abandon.

It only takes her a few short minutes to find her peak, and I’m almost disappointed. But nothing matters more than her pleasure, so I can tuck away my own greed to have her here, riding me, for hours. I grip her tighter, keep her supported as she falls off that edge, body wracked with the spasms of her release.

I ease her down to the blankets beside me while the last of her tremors subside. Praising her, telling her how beautiful she is, how good she tastes, how proud I am that she took exactly what she wanted, her cheeks flush and delightful little trembles run through her, even as she tucks her face bashfully into the side of my throat.

We’ll work on that.

We’ll work on her accepting the praise she more than deserves, on owning it without embarrassment, on reveling in it, on…

Only… will we?

How much more time do we have?

I make myself shove the thoughts aside.

Tonight, we have an eternity.

Tonight, there’s no tomorrow, no next week, no uncertain future.

Tonight there’s just me and Holly and the sparkling magick between us, and nothing is going to ruin that.

And if I don’t get inside her soon, I’m not sure I’ll survive until tomorrow, anyway.

Holly reaches for me, a desperate little noise of protest lodging in her throat when I pull away.

“What are you doing?” she rasps, voice hoarse and threaded through with pleasure.

I let out a low, gruff laugh. “I’m not going to fuck you for the first time on the floor. I’m taking you to bed.”