Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance

Free Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance by A.T. Mitchell

Book: Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance by A.T. Mitchell Read Free Book Online
Authors: A.T. Mitchell
looking just like
he does now.” Lyla's face tightened in surprise. “No, I
don't think he's a shifter. This is...something else.”
    “ You need to talk to him. Find out.”
    “ Yeah. I'm just not sure what the hell I'll
actually find.”
    “ So much for getting away from it all...”
    She was right. I leaned in and kissed her, grateful for
the vote of confidence buried in sarcasm. Gods, her plush skin was
amazing beneath my fingers, soft and warm and still amazingly sweet.
    It didn't matter that we'd been on the run for almost a
full day without even a shower. No dirt, no wear and tear, could ever
tarnish her beautiful body.
    I squeezed her tight. Lyla kissed me back, wet and
sultry. I sensed her heat, her scent, releasing pheromones of desire
that stopped just short of raging lust.
    We were exhausted. My erection wanted her now, but my
brain demanded sleep.
    Later, I
promised. We'll rest up and take her that much harder. And
she'll love every brutal second of it.
    Lyla didn't protest as I pulled her close to me. We laid
together, my arms wrapped around her, hugging her close to my chest.
    I almost lost you. Never again, I vowed.
    I swear it.
    Soon, her curves rippled gently beneath my arms, rising
and falling in time to her breaths. Sleep had found her.
    My blood pushed through my veins, warm currents
reminding me how badly I needed rest too. The last twenty-four hours
had easily been the most brutal and hectic of my life.
    A shame it takes brutality to crystallize everything.
For nearly forty years, I'd always been someone's protege, a hired
gun of claws and fur directed by Branson or Beamer or some older
bear.
    Back home, they're calling me a traitor, I thought. But at least I can call myself a man.
    A man with a purpose much greater than anything
Klamath ever offered.
    I nuzzled into Lyla's neck, careful not to wake her with
my scratchy stubble. She looked, smelled, and felt like perfection.
    The dreams were dark.
    The bear ran rampant, communing with the spirit world
all shifters sensed in their sleep. I was an animal again, prowling
through the wild, high grasses and untamed forests that existed long
before humans settled the Wild West in huge numbers, back when real
grizzly bears lived among our kind.
    And my bear grew tired of the endless hunting and
fighting. Eventually, he laid down in a giant hollow, wanting to
rest, jealously guarding the curvy young human female stroking his
fur.

IV: The Destiny Stone (Lyla)

    We slept together long and deep, all through the evening
and night. Waking up the next morning was like entering another
world.
    I rolled, feeling the beautiful man next to me. His grip
lessened in his sleep, but he never took his arms off me, those
strong protective hands circled around my waist.
    I woke first, rolled gently, and studied his face.
    Every handsome detail tore at me. This face had
threatened, betrayed, loved, and protected.
    All in the briefest handful of hours too, as if time and
emotion had been condensed by an angry god and funneled into him,
Nick Tunder, a creature who was more than just a man.
    His eyes opened. Those ice colored eyes drew me in, a
breathtaking glacial landscape concealed in two neat gems.
    “ Ready for a shower?”
    I nodded. The nascent heat between my legs became a full
sauna, and doubled again when he took me by the hand and pulled me
up.
    I followed him into the small, tidy bathroom attached to
our comfortable living space. Then the animal inside him awoke too,
the beast who pushed me against the wall and began tearing at my
clothes.
    Nick kissed me hard, deep. I knew he shared my same raw
need. My stomach growled once, but I ignored it, too hungry for
something else.
    “ Gods, you're a real woman,” he said,
pushing up my shirt. “Not a scrawny little female. Your hips,
your tits, your curves...give me a day. I'll run my tongue along
every inch of you.”
    The low edge in his voice made me quiver. That was a
promise.
    Before I knew it, my clothes were

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