Bear Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire Book 2) by T. S. Joyce

special. To allow them to bond in ways that would tether her heart to this masculine, capable, incredible man.
    Right now, she couldn’t help but feel utterly overwhelmed with how important he was. With a slight smile lifting one corner of his sensual lips, Jenner lowered his mouth to her breast and drew her nipple between his teeth. He sucked hard, and she gasped as her hips rolled against his in reaction. Oh, he could control her body. Could draw her emotions like he had direct access to her soul.
    Lifting up, he hovered over her, stony torso in shadow, and long, thick shaft jutting between them, intimidating her completely.
    “Jenner,” she whispered, about to voice her concerns on the physics of their pairing, but he was busy working biting kisses down her belly and oh! Those sexy teeth of his grazed her inner thigh right before he kissed her sex, right where she was most sensitive. His body moved like water, rolling toward her with every thrust of his tongue, as if it was hard for him not to be touching her.
    She couldn’t believe this was happening. This big, beautiful, powerful man had his mouth on her sex, and from the hum that vibrated against her, he was enjoying himself. He thrusted harder into her then pulled away, and now his eyes were on fire. Fevered and hungry in the instant before he lowered his body onto hers and pressed the head of his cock against her sex. Lena clutched his shoulders just to anchor herself. She felt like she was floating or falling, and her stomach dipped dangerously as his lips brushed her neck again.
    “I won’t bite you,” he murmured, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.
    She rolled her hips, and he jerked in response, breath ragged. His fingers gripped the back of her hair gently as he pushed into her slowly, inch by inch. She was tight, and it burned, but he was taking her body in such a way that the pleasure of being connected with him outweighed any pain. His second slow thrust hurt less as her body adjusted to his size, and she ran her fingertips down the curve of his stony arms, flexed and trembling slightly, as if he was holding himself back. Someday she would beg him to be himself—to ruck her up, but not tonight. Tonight, he’d been right. She did need gentle. She needed this—soft sighs, moonlight, control, his eyes on her, that bewildered, intense look on his face that said he was falling as hard as she was. His slow pace stole her nerves away and allowed her to get lost in this moment with him. The next time he rocked into her, she moved with him, gaining confidence with the languid pace he set.
    He stretched her, filled her, built the tingling pressure in her middle, then gave her relief every time he slid out. How could anything feel this good? How had she gone her entire life without knowing this kind of connection with a man? That answer was easy. Because she hadn’t met Jenner yet. Jenner was meant to give her this moment, and all the waiting had been worth it.
    He let off a sexy moan that said his control was slipping, and when she whispered his name, he closed his eyes tight and bucked into her faster.
    “Lena,” he rasped as his teeth hit her shoulder. His hands tightened in her hair, and she was so close, toeing the edge, about to spill over.
    And as he slid into her again and again, she knew she was done for. This felt too big. Too essential. Jenner was doing something to her body, binding her to him. She was changing from her marrow outward, and for a moment, it was terrifying, exciting, overwhelming, and perfect.
    With a soft gasp, she looked up at him, and he had her. His gaze was so open. So vulnerable. So caring. He was swelling inside of her with each thrust now, pumping faster. Eyes closed and robbing her of that strange, changing color, he rested his forehead against hers and gritted his teeth as a long snarl rattled his chest.
    It was that noise that did it. Bowing back against the blanket, she closed her eyes