Free Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance by A.T. Mitchell Page A
Authors: A.T. Mitchell
off, and I was
shuddering faster against the wall as he kissed his way up one leg.
Nick's fingers plunged into my swollen sex, deep into the wet cream
gushing to his thrusting fingers.
He
hammered me harder, incrementally increasing the pressure. I steadied
myself against the wall, hoping my knees wouldn't give out. Wave
after wave of brute, hot, animalistic pleasure – his pleasure – tore through me.
Orgasm hit like a whirlwind. My brain tipped upside
down. Crashing, drowning, rending apart in the white hot heat
electrifying my whole body.
Nick growled, pushing his thumb against my clit. I came
harder, curling my fingers and toes, spreading my body along the wall
in rapture.
Nothing was held back anymore. He made me feel
beautiful, as if he didn't see a single imperfection. And I quickly
learned how fast, how hard that made me come.
Apparently, good orgasms shared a direct relationship
with freedom, the liberty to be who I was really was. Or at least to
be worshiped as a beautiful woman first, and not a plus size
throwaway men took in desperation.
“ Come on,” Nick murmured, tugging at my hand
as my senses recovered. “Undress me.”
“ You got it! Can't imagine a better way to wake up
than this...”
He spread his arms and legs. I worked fast, tugging off
his shirt, and then the old jeans hugging his powerful hips.
His dark boxers were last. I hesitated for a second,
knowing that wicked cock would drive me wild the instant it appeared.
But the need to have his scent, his taste, was
officially too much. God! I really did need him after all we'd been
through...
No more waiting. His waistband snapped and I jerked it
to his knees.
Now he was naked, glorious, every angle of him pointed
and ready. He lifted me up. I brushed against his naked skin,
weathering his embrace, every fiber of my being roaring to have him
inside me.
Shit. We don't even have any condoms. I'll have to
settle for something else, and hope that's sufficient to tame the
beast inside him.
Nick's eyes beamed into mine. I walked backwards with
him guiding me, stepping carefully into the shower.
He stopped to grab the soap and crank on the water. The
sleek shower head sprayed, hurling its droplets over us, but mostly
across every rock hard inch of him.
Nick moved to the wall and clasped his hands behind his
head. “Work me over, Lyla. I'm giving you my trust.”
Yes!
Snapping to attention, I grabbed the bar of soap, trying
not to get too distracted by the aching sight of water jets screaming
across his muscles. The streams exploded, showering his hard peaks
and valleys, rolling down slabs of muscle in purifying rivulets.
He deserved this. And so did I, especially after all
we'd suffered.
I lathered him up myself, starting at his neck and
moving to his shoulders. He turned, letting me get his back good and
deep. A satisfied growl burbled up from his throat as I massaged his
body, admiring the endless hard hills and dips between pure granite.
When I came to his ass, I squeezed. His cheeks were so
hard, so wonderful, so strong.
They rippled beneath my hands. My nails teased his skin,
scratching where his glutes met his back thighs. He groaned and
growled.
I moaned, tasting a few stray water droplets on my
tongue. I leaned in behind him, drawing my hands to his hard abs
around the front, kissing his neck.
This morning, this gorgeous skinwalker was mine. Sure,
I'd vented all over him on the drive last night.
But I was tired, conflicted, half-crazed with fear.
He was a man, and men made tough decisions. He'd saved
me. The fact that I was alone with him in this cozy lodge, not dead
and buried in a pit, proved it.
It was a new day. I had to show him how much I
appreciated what he'd done for me.
Besides, admitting mistakes always feels best with flesh
and senses blazing.
I lathered his front, slowly urging him to turn back to
me. Halfway through his pivot, I pushed one hand lower, wrapping it
carefully around his cock.
His breath
shuddering faster against the wall as he kissed his way up one leg.
Nick's fingers plunged into my swollen sex, deep into the wet cream
gushing to his thrusting fingers.
He
hammered me harder, incrementally increasing the pressure. I steadied
myself against the wall, hoping my knees wouldn't give out. Wave
after wave of brute, hot, animalistic pleasure – his pleasure – tore through me.
Orgasm hit like a whirlwind. My brain tipped upside
down. Crashing, drowning, rending apart in the white hot heat
electrifying my whole body.
Nick growled, pushing his thumb against my clit. I came
harder, curling my fingers and toes, spreading my body along the wall
in rapture.
Nothing was held back anymore. He made me feel
beautiful, as if he didn't see a single imperfection. And I quickly
learned how fast, how hard that made me come.
Apparently, good orgasms shared a direct relationship
with freedom, the liberty to be who I was really was. Or at least to
be worshiped as a beautiful woman first, and not a plus size
throwaway men took in desperation.
“ Come on,” Nick murmured, tugging at my hand
as my senses recovered. “Undress me.”
“ You got it! Can't imagine a better way to wake up
than this...”
He spread his arms and legs. I worked fast, tugging off
his shirt, and then the old jeans hugging his powerful hips.
His dark boxers were last. I hesitated for a second,
knowing that wicked cock would drive me wild the instant it appeared.
But the need to have his scent, his taste, was
officially too much. God! I really did need him after all we'd been
through...
No more waiting. His waistband snapped and I jerked it
to his knees.
Now he was naked, glorious, every angle of him pointed
and ready. He lifted me up. I brushed against his naked skin,
weathering his embrace, every fiber of my being roaring to have him
inside me.
Shit. We don't even have any condoms. I'll have to
settle for something else, and hope that's sufficient to tame the
beast inside him.
Nick's eyes beamed into mine. I walked backwards with
him guiding me, stepping carefully into the shower.
He stopped to grab the soap and crank on the water. The
sleek shower head sprayed, hurling its droplets over us, but mostly
across every rock hard inch of him.
Nick moved to the wall and clasped his hands behind his
head. “Work me over, Lyla. I'm giving you my trust.”
Yes!
Snapping to attention, I grabbed the bar of soap, trying
not to get too distracted by the aching sight of water jets screaming
across his muscles. The streams exploded, showering his hard peaks
and valleys, rolling down slabs of muscle in purifying rivulets.
He deserved this. And so did I, especially after all
we'd suffered.
I lathered him up myself, starting at his neck and
moving to his shoulders. He turned, letting me get his back good and
deep. A satisfied growl burbled up from his throat as I massaged his
body, admiring the endless hard hills and dips between pure granite.
When I came to his ass, I squeezed. His cheeks were so
hard, so wonderful, so strong.
They rippled beneath my hands. My nails teased his skin,
scratching where his glutes met his back thighs. He groaned and
growled.
I moaned, tasting a few stray water droplets on my
tongue. I leaned in behind him, drawing my hands to his hard abs
around the front, kissing his neck.
This morning, this gorgeous skinwalker was mine. Sure,
I'd vented all over him on the drive last night.
But I was tired, conflicted, half-crazed with fear.
He was a man, and men made tough decisions. He'd saved
me. The fact that I was alone with him in this cozy lodge, not dead
and buried in a pit, proved it.
It was a new day. I had to show him how much I
appreciated what he'd done for me.
Besides, admitting mistakes always feels best with flesh
and senses blazing.
I lathered his front, slowly urging him to turn back to
me. Halfway through his pivot, I pushed one hand lower, wrapping it
carefully around his cock.
His breath