Silver Silence (Page 106)

Bears. “Let’s get back.”

As they made their way through the forest, Pieter said, “You’ve taken a risk.” It was quiet. “They hurt seeing her, but they also need to know she’s all right.”

Silver knew that. She also knew that StoneWater bears would’ve never called Galina Evanova on her behavior. Valentin, with his big heart, would’ve never been so pitiless. He looked after the people he loved. He’d looked after Silver even after she hit his heart with blow after blow. “She’s a bear, Petya. You really think she’ll listen to me if she wants to see her children?”

“Huh.” He ran a hand through the sunset of his hair. “Never knew a mama bear to let anyone stop her seeing her cubs, but you did say some pretty harsh things.”

“They needed to be said.” She didn’t think Galina was manipulating her children and clanmates on purpose, but she was doing it. If Silver had to face her down again and again until the other woman understood the damage she was doing, so be it.

No one was allowed to hurt Valentin.

Not even Silver.

Chapter 51

Love is no rose. It’s a goddamn weed that digs its roots in so deep, there’s no hope of getting it out.

—Nina Valance, human novelist married to a telekinetic (circa 1977)

SILVER AND PIETER made it back fifteen minutes before Valentin returned.

Having gone to her room to dress for bed, Silver waited another ten minutes before leaving that room and going next door to Valentin’s. She pushed open the door without knocking because he was hers and she had every right to go in.

He was standing shirtless in front of the bed, his hands on his hips and his hair damp from a recent shower that scented the air with soap. Wearing blue jeans on his lower half, he was staring at three different shirts laid out on the mattress: one white, one black, the third a steely blue.

“Why are you getting dressed?” Silver asked, closing the distance between them.

He’d gone motionless the instant she entered, watched without moving as she picked up the blue shirt. “Put on this one.” Shaking it out, she walked around behind him and helped him shrug it on, smoothing her hands over the muscled breadth of his shoulders before she came around to the front. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m planning our next date.” He raised a hand, caught a lock of her unbound hair, tugged her gently closer. “I need to have a swanky outfit for that.”

She didn’t offer to button his shirt for him, though the strip of skin and crisp hair on his chest was highly distracting. “What are we doing that requires formal clothing?”

“A dinner date at a fancy restaurant.”

“I would suggest we swap that date for a different one.”

Valentin folded his arms, jaw set. “No trickery.”

“Let’s exchange naked skin privileges.”

Valentin ripped off his shirt so fast she heard fabric tear. She was on her back on the bed the next second, a bear in human form looking down at her. “Done,” he said, but froze with his hand halfway down her side. “Hold on—is this Silver-and-Valentin-wild-monkey skin privileges, or is this biological-exchange-of-fluids-so-we-can-create-a-cub skin privileges?”

She felt the tremor in his body, heard the hope twined with fear in his voice. And knew, no matter what, there was no turning back. Hurting Valentin was simply not acceptable to any part of her.

“This is Silver-tasting-Valentin all over again.” Breasts aching and her core hot, she touched her hand to his cheek, things unfurling inside her for which she had no name. “This act, it’s so raw, so primal, so intimate. I need to know if I have the capacity to process it along the new pathways in my brain.”

• • •

VALENTIN’S heart pounded like a bass drum. Sliding his hand under Silver’s head, he pressed his face against the side of hers as his body shook. She’d come to him. They’d rewired her brain, and still she’d come to him. He could work with that.

She wove her hand into his hair, wrapped her legs around him in an open possessiveness that gripped his heart tight. “Valyusha, you’re shaking.”

He kissed her, hot and deep and full of all the love he’d had to contain while she woke from her long sleep. He’d missed her so much. Crushing her to him, he told himself to slow the fuck down, to not rut on her like a damn feral bear. But then Silver licked her tongue against his, and he had no hope in hell of doing that.

He tore off her clothes.

She didn’t give him a cool stare and remind him that clothes cost money. Her body arched under his, her skin flushing a creamy rose. He kissed his way down her throat, over her right breast, to her nipple. When he bit, she pulled hard at his hair. He shuddered, did other bad things to her.

His tongue in her pussy made her scream; his fingers digging into her butt had her fighting him for control; his stubble rubbing against her breasts had her locking her legs so tight around him that he felt owned. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Silver didn’t speak.

She scratched him, she bit him, and then she pushed at his shoulders until he let her be on top. He took the chance to squeeze her ass as she undid his pants. Drunk on her scent, he gave up on the momentary good behavior and hauled her up with a single powerful motion to press his lips to her pussy once again.

She gave another little scream.

Valentin was more than strong enough to hold her in place while he lapped her up like honey. She came so hard her body shuddered. He would’ve kept going forever if his cock hadn’t been a stone rod in danger of snapping in half if he didn’t get inside her.

Throwing her limp body onto the bed beside him, he tore off his pants and underwear and rose over her. One hand on her breast, he squeezed, fondled, branded. Mine, said the bear. He didn’t realize he’d spoken the guttural word aloud until Silver’s eyes, eyes gone that mysterious dark, locked on to his mouth.

Still fondling her breast, he kissed her. Not gentle and loverlike. Uncivilized and bearlike. Releasing her breast only so he could stroke down her body to grip her hip, he bit at her lower lip before rising above her. “Are you wet enough for me?”

She spread her thighs for him, her hands on her knees and her core slick.

His brain lost all thought. He sank into her in a single thick thrust, gathering her close and crushing her to him as he filled her body with his—but as her arms and legs came around him while her pussy clamped down on his cock, he was the one who was claimed. By Silver Fucking Mercant.

• • •

“IT wasn’t the skin privileges,” Silver said to him some time later, his well-satisfied mate lying with her head on his shoulder, her hair sweeping across him. He, of course, had his hand on her butt. Why the hell not when she was naked in bed with him, and he was sweaty from being totally and utterly wrung dry?

“Hmm?” he play-growled. “Sure felt like naked skin privileges to me.”

Silver stayed lax against him, pure satisfied female. He smiled, smug. Okay, yes, he’d lost it and rutted on her exactly like a feral bear, but he’d also made her come three times. Not his best effort, but he planned to make up for it.

He slid his hand from her ass to between her legs, cupped her. “Are you sore?”

“You are rather well-endowed, but the ache is one I like.”

He kept his hand right where it was. Possessive? Him? “What were you talking about before I got distracted by how soft you are”—he ran his fingers through her folds—“and how good you smell.” Rolling over onto her, he nuzzled and bit at her neck.