Silver Silence
Page 61

“I’m eager to experience intimate skin privileges.”
“You’re lying to me, Starlight,” he said, making no effort to hide his hurt that she’d do that.
And Silver learned that his hurt was a blow to her own heart. “It’s a lie of omission,” she whispered, their bodies and minds locked in an intimate world surrounded by the thunder of a bear celebration. “I’ll tell you the rest after.” When it wouldn’t taint the memory, when it wouldn’t shatter the moment into jagged splinters.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I would expect nothing less.” Sliding her arms around the warm bulk of him, she placed her cheek against his shoulder, her height suiting his.
He enveloped her in the warmth of his embrace, one hand sliding up her back and the other down to her lower curves again. Yet this time, it wasn’t sexual. It was possessive and protective in that rough Valentin way, a way to which she was becoming used.
“You going to overload?” he asked as the bass beat of his heart became her anchor. “Don’t you dare lie to me about that, moyo solnyshko. If you make me harm you, I’ll never forgive you.”
Silver threw up another desperate layer of shielding. “I have it under control.” No lie. Not yet.
Sinking into this instant when she was free of a cage that had saved her and imprisoned her, she cleared her mind of all other thoughts, her attention only on the wild, beautiful man who called her his sunshine and who saw starlight in her eyes.
The steady beat of his huge heart.
The raw warmth of a body that would protect her against every threat.
The earth and green of his scent, so familiar to her now that she searched for it when it was missing.
The clan’s joyous celebration was background music, shouts and footsteps all part of the larger whole.
Then came the tug of small fingers on her leg.
Startled, she looked down to see the Barnacle; he was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black shirt that was—as yet—unstained with food. “May I have this dance?” he asked with such perfect politeness and enunciation, she knew he was repeating the exact words someone had taught him.
Though Silver wanted to drown in Valentin, to build a lifetime of memories in a moment, not wounding a child’s heart took priority. She’d have made the same decision in Silence, though then, she’d have justified it by saying the child was more vulnerable and needed attention.
“I’m afraid,” she said to the bear who’d hold her forever if she asked, “I have a better offer.”
Valentin scowled down at the tiny interloper. “You trying to steal my girl, Dima?”
Throwing out his arms, the three-year-old did an excellent imitation of a bearish bellow. Laughing in an open pride that had Dima strutting, Valentin released Silver. “I’ll be back to reclaim what’s mine, Starlight.”
The promise rang with the power of an alpha.
A second later, he was tugged into a dance by a clanmate holding a glass of champagne, and Dima was gripping Silver’s hands as they “danced.” And Silver heard whispers from the trees far beyond the thumping noise of the Cavern.
Not yet, she told her brain. Give me a little more time. Just a little more. Enough to build memories that would have to last her through the coming decades of Silence.
Chapter 31
Dear Aunt Rita,
I’m about to share intimate skin privileges with a highly dominant bear for the first time. Any advice?
~ Excited Non-bear
Dear Excited Non-bear,
Cancel all your engagements for the forthcoming week and hold on for the ride.
~ Aunt Rita
—From the February 2080 issue of Wild Woman magazine: “Skin Privileges, Style & Primal Sophistication”
IT WAS MIDNIGHT by the time Valentin could get away, and by then, his gentleman tendencies had worn so thin, he’d have been terrified of scaring his mate—if that mate weren’t Silver Mercant, who was as tough as steel and who said a firm yes when he asked her if she was ready for a night of wild debauchery.
Then she patted his ass again.
Cock threatening to snap in two if he didn’t feel her possessive fingers on his skin soon, he took her not to his room but to hers. So she’d be comfortable. So she’d permit him to do even more naughty, sexy things to her.
He had plans to devour her from head to toe then go back for seconds.
Shutting and locking the door behind him, he rid himself of his boots and socks, began to unbutton his shirt. Silver’s eyes followed his every movement, and then she was there, parting the sides of his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. It fell to the floor in a soft murmur of sound he barely heard over the pounding of his heart.
“I love the way you feel.” Silver ran her nails through his chest hair, the light scratch like a red rag to a bull. Grabbing her up into his arms, he strode to the bed, threw her down on the mattress. He didn’t say she could tell him to stop at any time—if Silver Mercant wanted him to stop, she’d make it head-ringingly clear.
“I want these off,” he said, and pulled off her boots, throwing them over his shoulder.
Eyes on him, Silver sat up and lowered her hands to the bottom of that thin sweater with sparkles in it. It was gone a second later and he could see her bra. It was plain black, no frills, and it set him afire. Crashing onto the bed, he took her down—careful to make sure his weight and strength didn’t hurt her.
He was a bear, not a goddamn savage.
“You have amazing tits,” he said, his filters all off and one hand on a creamy globe cupped by the black of her bra.
She arched under his hand. He squeezed harder. She shuddered, her eyes going black. But since she didn’t tell him to stop, he figured that, this time around, the obsidian was a good sign. Gripping her jaw with his free hand, he pressed his mouth to hers, his kiss all tongue and demand. Silver gave back as good as she got, wrapping her arms and legs around him and lashing her tongue against his.
Groaning, he ground his erection into the vee between her thighs. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Starlight.”
Silver’s response was to bite down on his lower lip.
Her filters, too, were clearly off.
Chest rumbling in pleasure that his mate was as mad for him as he was for her, he lifted up, breaking her hold so he could rip off her jeans. He did literally rip them off, the fabric shredding under his claws and harsh pulls. Her panties were black, too. He left them for the moment because he liked how the black framed her otherwise creamy flesh.
Throwing the shreds of the jeans aside, he ran his hands up her thighs. Eyes dark and mysterious, Silver spoke. “Take off your pants.” It was a demand. He liked it.
Playing with her, he braced himself on his arms above her and bent down as if doing a push-up. “Make me,” he dared against her lips.
Silver scissored her legs, surprising him onto his back.
“Where did you learn that?” he asked, happy to be bested because it meant her hands were now at the waistband of his jeans. O Bozhe! Silver’s fingers were brushing his engorged cock as she worked.
Making no attempt to hide his desire, he just watched her.
“Simply because I’m not a physical person doesn’t mean I don’t know how to defend myself should the need arise,” she said, the cool words at odds with the flush on her skin, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.
“Oh, I think you’re a very physical person, Starlight.” Without Silence, Silver Mercant was a bear under the skin.