Saving Briar

Torin barely managed not to slam the door behind him once he made it into the bathroom. What the fuck was wrong with him? Running from the tiny trembling She-Wolf that he’d carried into his house, half dead, less than twenty-four hours earlier? And if he walked back out into the hallway and strained his ears he had no doubt he’d hear her sobs on the other side of the guest bedroom door.

But he couldn’t walk back out into the hallway, because if he did, if he gave in even the smallest bit, the entire act he was putting on, both for himself and for her, would be over. His will to keep pretending was already crumbling. He wasn’t sure how he’d even made it out of the room when all he wanted to do was bury his fingers in her thick, silky hair and let his lips crash down on hers to see if her mouth tasted anywhere near as sweet as the other parts of her that he’d already tasted.

Fuck, if she hadn’t seen those faces in the window earlier and screamed, who knows what would have happened between them. Because he’d wanted her. And she’d been laying there, looking so damned perfect, the vision appearing instantly before his mind’s eye with absolutely zero effort on his part, the moment he stripped off his t-shirt.

What had happened in the room, when she’d touched his face, had never happened to him before. The Beast inside of him, fuck he needed to stop thinking of it as something other than a part of himself, because it was a part of himself, had been pushing back, fighting to take control of his body, ready to fight him when it saw the pain flash through her eyes when he’d refused her.

The pain tore at him because both parts of him, human and Beast knew that he had put it there with his reaction to her offer. The part of him that was a Beast wanted no part in that and was more than willing to sweep her up in his arms and let her show him all the ways that she was grateful, and then show her all the many other ways that he could make her whisper, and moan, and finally scream out his name.

Torin turned the water on in the shower, the human part of him still having to make an effort to push the Beast back, to keep it from surging forward and taking control of his mind. He wasn’t sure, if it did, how hard he would fight to take control back. And the bear had never been in control of his body in human form. Would he even know how to be gentle with her, the way she would need him to be? She was a virgin, he reminded himself, which gave him an extra push to keep control over his other half. She would definitely know that something was different if he came in there with his mind shifted, even if his body was still human.

He kicked his boots off and turned towards the mirror, his eyes skimming briefly over his reflection, seeing what she would see if he’d let things go any further back in the room. His chest and back were covered with scars, most of them from the teeth and claws of wolves, the damage long since healed over, at least physically.

He still hadn’t asked her what pack she was from. It didn’t matter to him, or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Maybe it would matter more when he stood face to face with her so-called mate. But regardless, he would help her either way. And either way he couldn’t keep her.

He couldn’t have any woman for more than a night, and he certainly wasn’t about to do that to her. Hell, he hadn’t been with anyone since his mate, but that was the deal he’d made with himself a year or two earlier. He wasn’t a priest or a monk. He hadn’t taken a vow to stay chaste after what had happened. He just knew he could never make that sort of commitment to anyone ever again. Not when he knew what it felt like to lose what he loved.

Turning away from the mirror he stepped towards the shower. He’d been torn between the cold shower he probably needed, and the hot shower where he released the building pressure, making it possible for him to be around her again without losing control. So he’d settled on mixing things up. Propping one arm against the wall he leaned forward, letting his eyes slid shut as the top of his head came to rest against his forearm, the image before his mind’s eye the one he’d just left behind him in that room, his cock still as rock hard as it had been when she’d reached for his belt and he’d caught her wrist and stopped her from doing the thing that he so desperately wanted her to do.

He reached for the soap she’d used earlier, ignoring the voice in his head that asked what the fuck he was doing. But he wanted to regain some memory of the scent that had filled his nostrils earlier when he’d been so close to her. It wouldn’t be nearly the same thing, but it was as close as he was going to get and he needed something to help him stay out of that room, especially since he knew the welcome that awaited him if he walked through that door. The way she’d looked at him, when he’d first walked through the door, the scent of her desire thick in the air, it had taken everything in him not to fall to his knees again and bury his face between her thighs.

Once his body was slick with the soap she’d used, he began to run his hand up and down his thick shaft, trying to imagine that he’d let himself go, that he was giving them both what they thought they wanted. He wanted nothing more than the be buried deep inside her, her slender legs spread wide as they wrapped around his waist, but he’d seen the way she kept biting her lower lip, her dainty pink tongue darting out of the mouth to wet her lips as she’d looked up at him, just before she’d finally gotten out the words, explaining how she meant to thank him. He had had no doubt in his mind what she’d meant to do. Or at least how she’d meant to begin to thank him if he’d let her.

And so that was where his imagination began, with the image of her sliding down to her knees, a smile playing on her full lips as she stared up at him with those wide, dark eyes that somehow managed to have seen too much, while still retaining a certain innocence that made him willing to give up anything in the world to protect her.

Her tongue darted out, tasting him, licking a drop of pre-cum off the tip as she wrapped both her hands around the base of his thick shaft, her eyes coming up to meet his before dropping again to admire how huge he was. His hands were in her hair, but his grip was gentle, and he was ever so careful not to put any pressure on her head or push her forward as he waited, not realizing that he was holding his breath.

Then her lips closed around the head, taking him between her lips as she glanced up at him, her pupils dilated with desire. He wasn’t going to last long, just the sight of her on her knees in front of him, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders, as she took him deeper and deeper in was just about enough to send him over the edge.

In less than a minute he was spilling his seed into his fist, breathing hard, as he leaned against the cool tiles of the wall, the hot water washing away the soap that smelled of her as he blinked away the imagined images, half scolding himself for even thinking of her like that.

When this was all over he needed to go into the city and meet someone at a bar. A one night stand who understood what they were doing. Someone who had done it before and who would do it again after him. Not a girl who looked at him the way Briar had as he’d stood in the doorway of her bedroom. And definitely not a girl that made him stare back with something he knew was more than simple lust.

Cursing under his breath, Torin turned the water as cold as it would go, but he was still fucking hard, his body insisting it was ready for something that his mind wasn’t going to let happen. He could feel the smugness of the Beast in the back of his mind and had the sense that the other half of himself was just biding its time. But at least on that one note he wasn’t really worried. The human part of himself had only lost control in battle. Never because of passion or lust. And he didn’t plan to let that happen now.

Toweling off his body he took a deep breath, before returning to his room for a pair of shorts to sleep in. On his way back to the couch he paused outside her room, hoping to be able to make out the sound of snoring, or if not that at least the slow, even sound of her breathing in her sleep. He wanted some way to know that she wasn’t crying in there anymore. He wasn’t sure that he could bear that. But what would he do if she was? He couldn’t exactly go barging in to comfort her.

He didn’t hear her crying but still his hand nearly turned the doorknob. He forced himself to pause and listen again, until he was certain she was alright. Then he heard it, small, gasping ragged breaths, coming faster and faster. The sound was familiar, although not nearly as familiar as his body wished it was. He forced his hand away from the door, but let himself lean against the wall, listening as the muffled sounds of her own pleasure reached his ears, along with the faintest sound of what he was nearly certain was his own name.

Moving silently he pushed away from the wall and forced himself to walk out into the living room. After checking the locks for what had to be the tenth time since coming inside he picked up one of the blankets she’d been wrapped in earlier and tugged it around his shoulders before slumping down onto the place where she’d been laying earlier. Her scent overwhelmed his senses, but he only breathed deeper. This wasn’t just the artificial smell of the soap in the shower. This was a combination of that same soapy smell, mixed with the scent of her skin, along with traces of the sweetness that he’d lapped from her earlier as his hands had explored her body.

Pressing his hands against his eyes he shook his head. It was going to be a very long night.