Just as her orgasm started to ease and fade, he leaned in and growled in her ear, “More.”
CHAPTER FIVE
For two days, Uriah lavished pleasure after pleasure upon her. When he wasn't feeding her or cuddling her in his big bed or on the couch, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another.
Lunchtime yesterday ranked as one of her top favorite.
After utterly exhausting her that morning, Uriah left her alone long enough for Ivy to grab a recovery nap. When he came back, he gently kissed her awake, and Ivy glanced at the clock on the bedside table to see it was almost two in the afternoon. His shorts got her attention next, because so far, neither of them had bothered to put on a stitch of clothing.
Uriah, because he was a bear shifter and he liked being naked.
Ivy, because Uriah seemed to have a fetish for literally ripping her clothes off. And yes, the rending of her clothes in lustful haste was undeniably arousing, but it meant some of her most favorite comfy clothes had been sacrificed on the altar of pleasure.
Intrigued, Ivy got up at his urging, even more surprised when he dropped a huge tee over her head with a smug, satisfied grunt.
Glancing down, Ivy pinched the gray fabric and stretched it out to read the huge block letters stamped across the front in a rather unflattering shade of orange. “UT?”
Uriah gave a shrug, “University of Texas. I'm not a football fan, but one of my crew got a kick out of it having my initials on it.”
“I see,” Ivy drawled, giving an appreciative hum when Uriah hitched her up with his hands on her thighs to carry her out of the bedroom and downstairs. She hugged his broad shoulders, unable to keep herself from leaning in to nibble on his ear. She'd discovered through dedicated study, his ears were incredibly sensitive.
“Where are we going?”
“It's lunchtime,” he growled, giving her backside a lusty squeeze. “I'm gonna show you my second favorite spot on the property.”
“M'kay.”
Uriah carried her all the way out to the river, following a well-worn path on the bank to a shady grove that couldn't be seen from the house. He set her down on the blanket he'd spread on the springy grass, their lunch tucked safely inside a picnic basket.
Ivy sat slowly, looking around at the charming little spot beside the water, listening to it burble and hiss over the rocks in perfect harmony with the rustling of the wind that combed through the leaves overhead.
It was so peaceful; Ivy almost felt like she shouldn't speak above a whisper. “It's beautiful.”
“It gets better,” Uriah told her with a grin. He walked over to a large fallen log and opened a secret hatch to show her the cubby he'd made. The inside of the tree was painted with some kind of white rubbery looking stuff. Sealant, she supposed, to keep the bugs out.
Out came what looked like a knot of rope, but with a few twists and a flick, Uriah opened up a hammock easily big enough for both of them and strung it between two trees. “We'll eat, then have a little siesta.”
And that's exactly what they did. They ate, they took a dip in the chilly water, made love on the thick blanket, and cuddled up on the hammock to rest. The only blight on an otherwise perfect day was that feeling again of being watched.
Ivy didn't say anything, figuring if Uriah couldn't smell someone out there, maybe it was one of Kerrigan's ghosts who'd followed Ivy over from the manor. It wouldn't be the first time she’d experienced a brief haunting. The worst thing to do was acknowledge the ghost and give it power to interact on the physical plane.
She was safe, sprawled over Uriah's chest, his arm draped across her hip, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on her thigh while the hammock gently swayed to and fro.
Now, Ivy sat in the kitchen, once again watching Uriah make breakfast, only this time he hadn't bothered to wear pants, bravely cooking bacon in the buff.
She was a pretty darn good cook, but the view was too good to pass up, and Uriah took the utmost pleasure in feeding her. And in cuddling with her in between bouts of unbelievably good sex. And bathing her. The man was undeniably dedicated to the role of her adoring bath attendant.
Her body ached in the most delicious ways, and today—their third day together—some of the frenzy she'd felt to have sex every few hours seemed less intense. She would still absolutely climb on board if Uriah shot her a heatedly suggestive look, but he seemed calmer too. His bear not so forward as it had been.
He said it was because the bear was satisfied that their mating bond was solid. According to Uriah, shifters were pretty cut and dry when it came to any sort of formalities regarding bonding. They had sex until all parties—animal and human counterpart—were satisfied with the melding of souls and bodies.
Unfamiliar with the process and how that could possibly be legal, Ivy checked in with Rowena, and sure enough, Ivy had just had her honeymoon after accepting Uriah’s claim as her mate.
As in, done deal, mating made, congratulations, no take backs or refunds.
It wasn’t that Ivy was protesting. She definitely recalled a monosyllabic question in there from Uriah, asking for her consent. It was Ivy’s fault for not being clear on what she said yes to.
It was hard to swallow the fairy tale feeling of it all.
As though sensing her churning thoughts, Uriah winked and placed a plate of fluffy pancakes in front of her. Right as she opened her mouth to say thank you, Uriah straightened in alarm and glared in the direction of the front door.
“Someone here. You, stay here.” There was the bear, his snarl filling Uriah's voice, brightening his eyes, but both bear and man were gentle as could be when Uriah leaned in to give her a reassuring kiss before heading toward the door.
With a piece of bacon in hand, Ivy wasn't concerned about the intruder. Her focus remained fixed on Uriah's bare ass.
She gave an idle thought to him answering the door naked, but if he didn't care, neither did she. In fact, it was kind of funny. Ivy couldn't see who was out there, but she could see most of Uriah when he yanked open the door and rudely bellowed,
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“What the shit?” a man squealed, clearly offended by Uriah's wide-legged stance that no doubt gave the intruder an unrestricted view of Uriah's enormous cock. “Jesus, put that thing away!”
“It's my house. I'll put that thing wherever the fuck I want. What are you doing here?”
Thoroughly entertained despite only seeing one side of the conversation, Ivy continued to nibble on her bacon strips. “You weren't answering your phone and—”
“I sent everyone a text to say I'm with my mate, and we're fucking busy,” Uriah snarled, raising his fist to shake at who Ivy assumed was one of his work crew.
“Busy fucking, you mean,” the guy muttered darkly. “Look, I get that the first few days are important to your bear. All that bonding shit, but the Dyer project is going completely tits up and I need you.
“Mike wants to use railroad ties now instead of the cedar posts, the cabinet guys delivered their shit but couldn't put anything in because the flooring isn't done—because Mike canceled the original order and ordered hardwoods from Livingston instead—so they took off with half the cabinets still on the trailer because there's no room in the garage.