Bear Prince: Shifter Paranormal Romance (Royal Bears Book 1) by Emma Alisyn, Danae Ashe Page B
Authors: Emma Alisyn, Danae Ashe
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When she didn’t, he began to knead the soft flesh, pinching her stiffening nipples through the fabric of her bra and shirt as he kissed her again.
Her parents would be disappointed. But she trusted Andrew, and this was her life. Her love. Her body to give. Hannah knew what she wanted. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. She’d thought her career as a dancer would be the most fulfilling experience of her life, but this… whatever this was… made her realize how wrong she had been.
Hannah took one hand and pushed it lower. He pushed it between her legs, and the friction against her jeans pulled a moan from between her lips. His head dipped to kiss the tender flesh of her neck, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, tilting her head back to allow him easier access.
“I cannot resist you,” he said, the trickle of his lyrical accent thickening to a river. “I can’t hold out any longer.”
“Then don’t,” she said.
He pulled back, eyes narrowed, teeth bared in a feral expression that almost frightened her. His hands gripped her waist, tension in him as if he were struggling with whether to push her away or pull her closer.
“Andrew… don’t resist,” she said, placing her hands on either side of his face. “I want this. Please.”
“Be certain, Hannah. There is no going back.”
“I’m certain.” She smiled at him.
He closed his eyes, as if pained. But before she knew it, Hannah found herself scooped into his arms. She felt so tiny against his broad chest. Until that moment, she’d barely noticed his unusual height, though she had certainly appreciated his muscular form. Andrew laid her on her bed, fingers trailing over her arms as if she was something precious as he drew away. She watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, movements spare and deliberate. He held her eyes, giving her time to change her mind.
Hannah sat up, pushed his hands away. “Let me do it.”
Her fingers trembled a little, but she got the shirt unbuttoned, pushing aside cloth with a boldness she hadn’t known was in her, exposing a pale, sculpted chest, strong arms with biceps she wouldn’t be able to wrap hands around. Pale, and perfect. She laid her hand over his pecks, taking in the contrast of their coloring.
“You’re like the Ice King in the mountain,” she said, caressing him. “So pale.”
Gold underneath the pale, and the faint shadow of blue veins. At the word ‘king’ his body flexed, muscles tensing under her hand. She glanced up. His head lowered, dark hair obscuring his face.
“If I am the Ice King,” he said, voice deep and rich like molasses, “then you are my Sun Queen, mistress of ancient desert sands. I will drape you in gold and lapis lazuli, and cover you in silks.”
She smiled at his fanciful words, delivered with a small smile despite the intense, dark heat of his eyes. She was browner than modern day Egyptians, more Ethiopian than Arab, even with her long curls.
Her fingers hovered over the button of his trousers for a moment before slowing unzipping, pushing the cloth down his hips. He wore silk underneath, his erection unfettered.
She hesitated, heat in her cheeks. “You’ll tell me what you like?”
His brow rose. “My Queen, this night is for you. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” Andrew pushed her down onto her back, lips hovering overs hers. “Your breath is my breath.” He placed a hand over her heart, his touch burning through her skin. “Your heart is my heart. Don’t you know you’re everything to me?”
She stared up into jewel bright eyes, and was lost.
He plucked at the strap of her camisole, peeling cloth down her body. She took a moment to worry about the utilitarian undergarments she wore- a support sports bra and seamless cotton panties, both in boring black. And, God, she hadn’t even showered. She opened her mouth, about to suggest a recess, when his warning look silenced her. He pulled the camisole down her body, taking jogging pants and leggings
Her parents would be disappointed. But she trusted Andrew, and this was her life. Her love. Her body to give. Hannah knew what she wanted. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. She’d thought her career as a dancer would be the most fulfilling experience of her life, but this… whatever this was… made her realize how wrong she had been.
Hannah took one hand and pushed it lower. He pushed it between her legs, and the friction against her jeans pulled a moan from between her lips. His head dipped to kiss the tender flesh of her neck, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, tilting her head back to allow him easier access.
“I cannot resist you,” he said, the trickle of his lyrical accent thickening to a river. “I can’t hold out any longer.”
“Then don’t,” she said.
He pulled back, eyes narrowed, teeth bared in a feral expression that almost frightened her. His hands gripped her waist, tension in him as if he were struggling with whether to push her away or pull her closer.
“Andrew… don’t resist,” she said, placing her hands on either side of his face. “I want this. Please.”
“Be certain, Hannah. There is no going back.”
“I’m certain.” She smiled at him.
He closed his eyes, as if pained. But before she knew it, Hannah found herself scooped into his arms. She felt so tiny against his broad chest. Until that moment, she’d barely noticed his unusual height, though she had certainly appreciated his muscular form. Andrew laid her on her bed, fingers trailing over her arms as if she was something precious as he drew away. She watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, movements spare and deliberate. He held her eyes, giving her time to change her mind.
Hannah sat up, pushed his hands away. “Let me do it.”
Her fingers trembled a little, but she got the shirt unbuttoned, pushing aside cloth with a boldness she hadn’t known was in her, exposing a pale, sculpted chest, strong arms with biceps she wouldn’t be able to wrap hands around. Pale, and perfect. She laid her hand over his pecks, taking in the contrast of their coloring.
“You’re like the Ice King in the mountain,” she said, caressing him. “So pale.”
Gold underneath the pale, and the faint shadow of blue veins. At the word ‘king’ his body flexed, muscles tensing under her hand. She glanced up. His head lowered, dark hair obscuring his face.
“If I am the Ice King,” he said, voice deep and rich like molasses, “then you are my Sun Queen, mistress of ancient desert sands. I will drape you in gold and lapis lazuli, and cover you in silks.”
She smiled at his fanciful words, delivered with a small smile despite the intense, dark heat of his eyes. She was browner than modern day Egyptians, more Ethiopian than Arab, even with her long curls.
Her fingers hovered over the button of his trousers for a moment before slowing unzipping, pushing the cloth down his hips. He wore silk underneath, his erection unfettered.
She hesitated, heat in her cheeks. “You’ll tell me what you like?”
His brow rose. “My Queen, this night is for you. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” Andrew pushed her down onto her back, lips hovering overs hers. “Your breath is my breath.” He placed a hand over her heart, his touch burning through her skin. “Your heart is my heart. Don’t you know you’re everything to me?”
She stared up into jewel bright eyes, and was lost.
He plucked at the strap of her camisole, peeling cloth down her body. She took a moment to worry about the utilitarian undergarments she wore- a support sports bra and seamless cotton panties, both in boring black. And, God, she hadn’t even showered. She opened her mouth, about to suggest a recess, when his warning look silenced her. He pulled the camisole down her body, taking jogging pants and leggings
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