Boarlander Silverback (Boarlander Bears #3)(13)

“Ally,” he gritted out. “It’s hard to stop.”

“I’m on birth control,” she whispered.

“Fuck, woman, not helping.” His hips bucked as she pulled another firm stroke of his dick.

She could see it now and geez, she’d never seen anything more masculine and powerful than his shaft sticking out rigid between his powerful legs. His hand cupped her sex again, and she rocked against his palm, closing her eyes at how good he felt. They were so damned close, but not close enough. Kirk shoved her shirt up her stomach. “I’m gonna come on you,” he murmured. “Soon,” he gritted out, pumping his hips.

Her, too. She was on the edge, nearly blinded with ecstasy.

“More, more, more, Kirk. Please!”

“Ally, don’t ask, or I won’t be able to stop.”

She answered by pulling the head of his shaft against the wetness he’d conjured between her legs. His movement slowed, became smoother as he let off another sexy growl. He rolled his striking gold eyes closed and eased down closer to her, his triceps flexing where his arms were locked on either side of her face.

“I want all of you,” she whispered, pushing his tip against her entrance.

His rocking motion was so graceful he didn’t miss a beat when she pulled his shirt over his head just to watch his abs flex above her. Ally was stunned at his masculine beauty as he lowered to his forearms. His dick looked perfect in her hand, pushing through the circle she’d made, and she imagined him inside of her working them both toward release.

Kirk’s brows were furrowed with intensity, and he huffed a breath as she brought his tip against her again. He leaned down and kissed her as he pushed his head into her and eased back out. Gently, he pulled her hand away from him and slid into her again, deeper.

“I won’t last long. I’m close,” he murmured against her lips. “Fuck, Ally. You feel so good around me.”

She spread her legs wider and rolled her hips, meeting him blow for blow. So wet. So easy, like they’d been made to fit together. Kirk’s pace became erratic, and he bucked into her faster, harder. She called out as her orgasm coursed through her, gripping his dick in deep pulses. Kirk’s body went rigid against her as he gritted out her name. His cock pulsed deliciously, and warmth filled her. Wrapping his arm around her back, he stroked into her faster, hesitating every time he spilled more seed into her. And when he was emptied and her aftershocks slowed, she relaxed under him and smiled. She was glowing. She had to be. That’s the only thing that would explain this incredible feeling inside of her.

With a shake of his head, Kirk grinned. “Temptress.”

“I told you you wouldn’t break me.”

“I was careful on purpose.”

“Mmm hmm,” she said, disbelieving. “Or I’m a stronger bedmate than you’d expected.”

“Bedmate,” he murmured, pushing her short hair from her forehead. His eyes were still blazing that inhuman color, but they softened as he searched her face. “You’re trouble for me and my people, Ally, but I’m in this now. Don’t hurt us.”

Unable to speak at witnessing such raw desperation in his eyes, she pulled his wrist to her lips and kissed him in a gentle promise that she would take care of him.

He was so wrong.

She had no power to hurt him or his people. Her heart wouldn’t allow it.

But Kirk Slater now had the complete ability to drag her to her knees and cut her deeply.





Chapter Seven


There was a knock on the door, but hell if Kirk wanted to talk to anyone. “Piss off, Clinton.”

When the door swung wide, Kirk lifted his attention from pulling his muddy boots off long enough to grace Mason with an irritated look. “You here to rag on me, too? I said I was sorry.”

Mason made his way past on a direct course for the fridge. “No, you didn’t. You said, and I quote, ‘Fuck all of you. If you get stuck in a mudslide, it would shut y’all the hell up, and I could get a minute of peace.’”

“It was close to an apology,” Kirk muttered, leaving his boots in a pile by the couch and stomping into the kitchen to grab some paper towels.

The refrigerator light illuminated Mason’s troubled expression and suntanned face. “Where was your head at today, man? You could’ve got us killed with how reckless you were cutting those trees above us.”

Kirk gritted his teeth and pushed off the counter, then began wiping thick mud off the soles of his boots. “What are you gonna do?”

“About what?” Mason pulled a beer out of the fridge and popped the top.

“Pick up the cap, *.”

Mason snorted and kicked the bottle cap under the table, then gave him a f*ck-you glare and sank down onto the couch beside him.

“I mean, what are you gonna do when logging season is over?” Kirk mumbled.

Mason frowned at him but kept chugging his beer. With a satisfied sigh, he wiped his mouth and said, “Is that what has your panties in a twist? The end of logging season? Brother, this was always temporary. We’re just hired help for the season. Harrison’s already looking at applications for October.”

Kirk hated the way that made him feel. Expendable. Replaceable. It hurt in ways he hadn’t expected.

“You ever think of settling down?” he asked Mason.