After Ben’s mates are murdered, Red and Quentin quickly move in to comfort the human. Their animal instinct drives them closer—because they realize Ben is now meant for them. They watch over and protect the broken man, allowing him to mourn and grieve for the love he lost, ever hopeful they’ll one day be able to claim what is theirs.
Ben eventually senses their connection, once the haze of despair begins to fade. Yet he cannot stop the guilt that causes from consuming him. He clings to the pain and memory of what was, instead of allowing himself to think of what could be.
When Ben attempts to leave Bear Mountain behind, his bears race to stop him. He knows he has nothing left to give them and demands they let him go. So Red and Quentin make him an offer—he can go if he agrees to one night in their arms.
Can he possibly leave after that?
He rose from the bed and pulled Mick’s robe about him. After a deep inhale, he walked out into the living space of the cabin. Ben put on a pot of water for tea, but not before glimpsing a glow coming from the kitchen window.
He dropped the kettle onto the stove and raced for the front door. Whipping it open, he ran to the porch and saw the two large bears lumbering away.
“Wait!” he cried, instinctively knowing who they were.
Both bears paused and looked back at him.
Ben stood at the edge of the porch, knowing he should be angry at the two of them, but he also knew they only sought to protect him.
He was theirs, in their mind. He understood the need bears had to claim what they considered theirs.
Watching as the two made their way back, Red shifted seconds before Quentin did. They stood there, nude, and in their human form. Ben sucked in a breath as he let his gaze take the two in. He’d never seen them naked, although he was likely wrong about that. Bear shifters had no shame and were often naked in public, after a shift.
But Ben had never noticed their nudity—until now.
Red’s cock was long and heavy, hanging like a thick vine between his powerful thighs. He wasn’t even erect, only semi-hard and it made Ben wonder what the male looked like hard and needy… and ready to claim.
Quentin’s was smaller, but not by much. His, too, hung heavily between his thighs.
Ben licked his lips, wondering what they tasted like. He wondered what it would feel like to have them inside him, driving his need to mind-altering lengths. Claiming his flesh as their own.
The reaction from his own body was stifling. Ben began to sweat slightly. He was rock hard and thankful for the thick, oversized robe to hide his burgeoning need.
“What were you doing looking in my window?” he demanded, sounding angrier than he was.
Quentin had enough sense to look slightly ashamed. Red lifted his chin, completely brazen.
“We check on you every night,” Red said. “Every single night for the past four months. After we close up the restaurant, we come here and ensure you’re safe and sleeping soundlessly before we curl up and sleep on your porch since you kicked us out of the house.”
Ben was struck by the words. His heart started to pound even harder. “You sleep on my porch?”
“How else will we protect what’s—protect you?” Red answered.
Ben knew how to fill in the blanks. He’d heard the comment before from others. Protect what’s ours.
“I never asked you to protect me,” Ben spat, even though the thought of them out here, watching over him, gave him a small thrill. “I don’t need guard bears, sleeping at my door.”
“You didn’t have to ask,” Quentin said. “We’re here for you, even if you don’t think you need us.”
Ben looked down Quentin’s strong body. He needed alright. He needed to feel their strength against his. He needed to feel them inside him. He wanted them to claim him and fill him with their desire.
Anything, to take the emptiness away.
“And if I do need you?” he asked, breathless.
Both bears stiffened. He glanced down and saw them both begin to grow even harder. Longer. Thicker. They were massively huge, and Ben could barely breathe from the sight. His own cock was rock hard and throbbing under the robe, screaming for release.
Unease filled him at the thought. He tried to ignore the guilt this time and pushed it down before it ruined what he was feeling.
Red climbed the three stairs that led to the porch and stopped inches from Ben. His cockhead brushed against the furry, ratty robe.
“What is it you need?” Red asked, his raw voice barely above a whisper.
Take me. Fuck me. Hard. Spank me. Whip me. Punish me for having these wicked thoughts in my mind. Punish me for being a horrible mate. Punish me for not loving Mick and Eli as I should have. Punish me for not saving them.
All the words were swimming in his mind, but he couldn’t voice them. He couldn’t tell these two about the war raging within him. One side wanted them to take him, to make him feel whole again—to make him feel loved and wanted. The other side, it told him how disgusting he was for his need. It reminded him of yet another failure.
He couldn’t stay true to his mates.
“Make me feel less lonely,” was all he could get out.