There had been hunger in his eyes tonight. It was unmistakable; she knew that look well. So he wanted to mate her? So what? He didn't want to be with her. She shouldn't have worn that tank top and skirt tonight. With a flash of anger, she ripped them off and exchanged them for one of the hotel's luxurious bathrobes. Then she wandered around her room aimlessly.
Although it was late, her mind was alive, and she wasn't ready for bed yet. She thought about having a bath. But I should probably try to sleep, she decided. They had to be up at 10am to catch their flight back home. She went over to the windows and closed the heavy wooden shutters. The last one stuck. Being a little drunk, she couldn't figure out how to make the long metal rod slide into the correct aperture. She kept trying but it stubbornly refused to behave. With a sigh, she strode over to the main door of the room, flung it open, and knocked loudly on Rocco's door. I could've called down to reception instead, she thought at the same moment. But it was too late. The door was opening and Rocco was standing in front of her in a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt, his eyes stormy with hunger and questions. He looked incredible. She swallowed hard.
"One of my shutters is stuck. Can you help me with it?" she said, unnecessarily abruptly. His body jerked very slightly, as if he was mentally shaking himself out.
"Sure," he said. As he entered into her room, he brushed past her, the skin of his upper arm gliding against hers, and a current of electricity ran through her body. He went out onto the balcony and fiddled with the shutter and she followed him, curious to see if his technique was better than her own. "Okay. That should do it," he said after a while.
"You fixed it?" she stepped closer to see.
"Let me just try and close it now." He reached back and pulled the shutter into the closed position. As she took a step back to give him more space, she stumbled, and suddenly she was pressing right against his body.
"Oops," she murmured, and stepped forward again. But something wasn't right. He seemed to be coming with her, his body remaining in contact with her own. His bear let off a purr, his mouth close to her ear and his breath warm and spicy. Somehow her hands found the balcony rail and gripped it tight.
"Harper," he breathed, his voice rough and snarly. His pecs were pressing against her shoulders, his pelvis against the apex of her ass. And – oh my god – he's hard, she realized, feeling that familiar, but long-missed pressure at the small of her back. Suddenly she was very aware that he was only wearing his boxer shorts. His big, strong hands encircled her upper arms and he breathed in, taking a deep sniff of her hair.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, beyond confused.
"Do you want me to stop doing it?" he growled, and his hands slid up to the neck of the robe, hooked under the collar, and lifted it away from her shoulders.
"I don't know," she replied, her voice a little shaky. He dipped his head and kissed her right at the point where her shoulder met her neck, his lips soft, and his teeth lightly grazing. She gave an involuntary shiver. He kissed her neck and her earlobe, and little tingles of pleasure danced in her veins.
"Harper." His voice hitched in his throat, husky and unbelievably sexy. She turned her head toward him, as she knew he wanted her to, and his mouth met hers in a searing kiss. Her lips parted instinctively and she made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, as her body seemed to turn to liquid. His arms wrapped around her waist, and his kiss deepened. His mouth. Those lips that she knew better than anyone's. Those kisses that she thought she'd enjoy every day of her life, until they were snatched away from her so cruelly. Ignoring the voice in her brain that was telling her no, she threw herself into his embrace, her tongue seeking out his ravenously. His hands tangled in her hair. At one point, she realized that her eyes were wet, and the salt of her tears mingled in their mouths. She turned her whole body and threw her arms around his neck, caressing his chest and abs through his t-shirt. His cock pressed against her stomach, harder than ever, and his eyes were wild with desire. She was beyond wet, she realized, almost crazy with her longing for him. His hands went to her belt and he began to untie it.
"Rocco – " she said, throwing a glance at the building opposite. They were still on the balcony. He shrugged and a wicked smile curled his lips. Leaning back into the room, he found a light switch and flicked it off, plunging them into darkness.
"Better?" She gazed at him wide-eyed. "All the shutters across the street are closed. Can you smell any humans in close proximity?" She sniffed. No; she couldn't. "So we're okay?" His tone was hypnotic, achingly sexy. The Rocco she'd always known.
"I guess."
"I remember someone once telling me that mating on a Parisian balcony would be the sexiest, most romantic thing ever." She bit her lip.
"They might have." His hands returned to her belt and he unfastened it. She allowed it to fall completely off her, leaving her in only a set of black lace lingerie.
"Outside, with the summer breeze cooling their bodies, the scent of flowers thick in the air," he crooned. She gave a shudder, and in the same moment, lifted his t-shirt and pulled it right over his head. The feeling of his body against hers was incredible. The body of the boy she'd loved, matured into a man – more muscular and bulky, but still recognizable. Eagerly, she ran her hands over every bit of it. Rocco kept kissing her, more and more passionately, and his hands found the clasp of her bra, and he unfastened it and slipped it off.
"Harper," he murmured, cupping her large breasts in his hands. "Still the same girl, but even more beautiful."
"Funny. I was just thinking something similar about you," she said, and her fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts, as he took hold of her panties and eased them down. Both strong, athletic bears, they had always been at ease with their nakedness. They used to strip off as soon as they met up, and then mostly hang around naked. But now, it was still a shock to see Rocco in all his naked glory. 6'4" of solid, rippling muscle, and his cock so big and hard for her. She stepped out of her panties and he grasped her around the waist, lifting her up and placing her on the edge of the balcony. She cast a glance down to the dark street, three stories below and bit her lip.
"Do you trust me?" he rumbled, standing between her thighs, his hands cupping her ass. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hooked her ankles around his hips.
"I do," she said, holding his glittering green gaze. With a purr, he entered her, sliding on her wetness until he was all the way in. She stifled a cry as he filled her up. Damn, he felt even better than she remembered. No-one could ever compare to him. He had such a big cock and he knew exactly how to use it. Her bear gave little rumbles and purrs as he began to move in her, thrusting gently, mindful of her precarious position.
"Oh, Harper, you feel so good," he murmured, his teeth nibbling at her earlobe.
"You do," she replied between pants. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, from her nipples to her pussy, which was clenching around his length in little flutters. And she was outside, under the Parisian night sky, mating with the sexiest guy in the whole world. It was like a dream.
Her bear began scrabbling at her insides, demanding to be taken from behind. With a chuckle, Rocco picked up on it right away and pulled out of her. He helped her down from the rail and flipped her over, pushing her thighs apart before entering her from behind. She moaned and arched her back, wanting him to go as deep as he could, and he cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers until she saw stars.
"Okay, inside," he said at last. "Or we're going to wake up the whole street." He lifted her up effortlessly and carried her onto the bed. He laid her on her back and paused, gazing at her with desire mingled with adoration, before spreading her thighs wide and entering her again. Harper was close to coming, his fast, rough rhythm driving her crazy, but she needed more. She began to struggle, trying to get him to flip, and he started laughing, knowing what she was about. Before long, they were tussling, just like they used to, flipping over and over on the bed, his big cock staying inside her all the time. At last he forced her to surrender, her muscles no match for his male bulk, and he took her facedown, spread eagled, thrusting again and again, until she came with a roar that was quickly echoed by one of his own.