Sheriff’s Bad Bear – Wolfkin & Berserkers Read Online Kati Wilde

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
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“I see you’re run down,” he says quietly. “So I’ll just tell you this last thing and then you ought to head up to sleep. I am in love with you, Samantha Green. I am so fucking in love with you. And there is nothing that’ll send me away.”

My knees turn to mush. I collapse back against the edge of the counter, gripping the edge, my eyes never leaving his face. His stupid, wonderful face.

I want to believe. I so desperately want to.

“I get that you’re worried about the risk. And that just last night, you promised that you’d never say yes to me again.” He comes closer, the heat of his body radiating onto mine. “So how about this—you don’t have to break your word. You don’t have to say yes. You just need to tell me no.”

Slowly his head descends. Giving me time to say no.

I can’t.

His breath kisses my parted lips before his mouth does, gently sweeping into me. I push up just a bit and I should have known that it would be perfect. Everything with Brandon is. Soft and teasing, with a trembling smile once I realize this is truly happening. Then his big hands cup my face and he takes a deeper taste, groaning when I open my mouth to invite him in.

Heat sears straight through me. His left hand drops to my hip and he hauls me closer, the full length of my body arching against his. I’m gasping into our kiss, my heart thundering and need pulsing hot and wet down low.

When he wraps his arm around my waist and lifts me up, I don’t have any thought in my head but of my bed. Yet he sets me on the table, breaking the kiss and pushing me back.

His fingers hook into my shorts. “I need a taste,” he growls, dropping to his knees. Then waiting.

For me to say no.

I lift my hips instead, helping him. He drags the shorts down my legs—his fingers have claws, they have long, sharp claws—then he’s back up and nuzzling my belly.

“Don’t be afraid,” he rasps against my skin. “Don’t be afraid. There’s just a part of me that needs to protect you from every hurt and fear. And every part of me needs to make sure you’re being treated right.”

Chest heaving, I nod. “Not scared. Just surprised.”

He looks up at me, hands on my knees urging my legs apart.

Just got right down to it. I choke on a laugh. “I thought you were never in a hurry.”

“Hurry to get here. Sure as hell won’t be in a hurry to leave. Goddamn, you smell so fucking good.” He lowers his head and takes a long, slow lick—definitely not in a hurry to get up to my clit, though my breath locks in anticipation and I tilt my hips.

Oh god, his tongue is so hot. And rough.

Another slow lick makes my entire body quake. I fall back onto my elbows, trying to twist, trying to get him right where I like.

His powerful hands still my hips. His eyelids are heavy, as if he’s drugged already by the taste of me. Then he rumbles, “Sweet honey girl,” against my slit and that rough tongue swipes an unhurried lick over my clit.

And I understand. I understand what it means to be lost in the woods, with time passing different. Because each lick is slow, slow, and I’m caught in an endless spiral of heightening tension, until I’m near sobbing with how good it is and how I never want it to end. Then the orgasm rushes over me, lasts forever and is gone in an instant. I rock against his mouth, trying to make it last, my fingers buried in his hair and his strong fingers clenched on my ass.

Only when I’m still does he lift his head, lick his lips, and slowly kiss his way back up to my mouth.

“You came real good for me, honey girl,” he murmurs against my lips. “Such a wet pussy.”

“I told you,” I murmur back. “A gooey center is better than a crusty edge.”

He snorts out a laugh and shakes over me, arms braced on my either side. I’m utterly boneless and splayed beneath him…and this is a position that I could get used to really quick.

Just as I might get used to Brandon swinging me up in his arms, cradling me against his massive chest. “Sleep?”

“Yeah,” I mumble into his neck. “After coming so hard, I should sleep until it’s time to go to work again.”

I am almost out even before he reaches the stairs. If not for Brandon’s sudden halt, I might have been asleep before he went into room.

Instead he’s in the hall at the top of the stairs. “You never got them fixed?”

The claw marks. My chest constricts with remembered hurt. Brandon’s arms tighten around me.



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