Puck Bear Brides: Complete Series (BBW Werebear Paranormal Sport Romance Boxed Set) by Anya Nowlan Page B

his fingertips.
    Her nails scraped against his scalp, curling around his blond hair, and he didn’t mind it one bit. Everything about this woman so far had been just right. From how she’d gotten so cutely flustered when he’d bought her a drink down at the bar in downtown Cheyenne, to how she’d blushed when he told her she was beautiful, to how she became this moaning little wildcat when he had two fingers up her pussy and his lips on her pale, blemish-free skin.
    His kind of woman, through and through. A lady in the street and the exact opposite in bed.
    I should come to Cheyenne more often, he thought almost languidly as she jolted upright, her body tensing and her eyes wild as he thrust two fingers inside of her again, twisting them and watching with warm amusement as her eyes rolled back in her head in response to it.
    “Don’t… stop…” she hissed, her hands clutching at the sheets now and her skin dappled with sweat.
    He could feel her pulsing around his fingers and there wasn’t a force on Earth that could have made him stop. Hovering over her on his knees, on top of her frilly, flowery covers, with her pleasure completely controlled by his fingertips, was exactly where Memphis Corley wanted to be. It was made better by the fact that she had no idea who he was.
    “I don’t intend to, sugar,” he said, his voice a deep, languid murmur—a gift of his Southern upbringing. “Not before you cum for me again.”
    He hadn’t even gotten to shucking off his jeans, though they’d been in her apartment for more than an hour now, easily. It was so hard to focus on his own damn pleasure when at first she’d clung to him like he was some sort of an anchor in a stormy sea when he kissed her neck and then her nipples while fingering her, and then of course now… well, look at her.
    Gorgeous. Mesmerizing. Hot as fuck, which was some sort of an accomplishment in frigid Wyoming in the middle of January. How could he not want to get her off again and again, especially when it meant she’d make those loud, high-pitched squeals of hers that left him snarling like a hungry beast, wanting to distill them in him?
    There was just no way. He had to see her cum again.
    “Relax, sugar,” he said, almost a purr, which for a polar bear shifter was an accomplishment in itself.
    “You’re not making it very easy,” April protested with a half-smile, one he met with a grin as he scooted up off of his elbow.
    His fingers pumped in and out of her slower now, the rough pad of his thumb flicking over her clit in maddening, tight circles as he kissed her stomach, her generous breasts, her neck, and finally her chin, coming face-to-face with her. April’s mouth was slightly open, her pink lips plump from a violent makeout session in the cab and then on their way from the front door to the bedroom, and her eyes were hazy with lust.
    If I could see her like this every day for the rest of my life, I’d be one lucky man, he thought, the notion coming out of thin air and smacking him over the head like a mallet.
    For a second, his hand froze in place and his eyes filled with surprise. Memphis Corley was no one-woman bear. Not by a long shot. A guy with a scar on almost every square inch of his body, plenty of tattoos to denote both good and bad decisions in his life, and a crooked grin that could only spell trouble, he was just not the kind of guy to think about settling down. Not with anyone. Certainly not with some girl he just met.
    And yet, here he was, knuckles-deep inside of her and still not getting enough of her.
    “What is it?” April sputtered, catching her lip in the most adorable way for a moment as her chest heaved heavily.
    “Nothin’,” he muttered, conjuring a smirk on his lips, though claiming that he wasn’t a tiny bit rattled by that left-field thought would have been a wild and inaccurate statement.
    Instead of thinking about it some more, he went in for a kiss, pulling April to him by the back of her neck