The Bear's Call Girl: A Steamy Paranormal Romance (Bears With Money Book 9)

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The Bear's Call Girl: A Steamy Paranormal Romance (Bears With Money Book 9) Page 6

by Amy Star


  Something in Justin was moved to hear her say this, more moved than he’d ever been with any other woman he’d ever bedded—and there had been so very many. How could it be that after so many women he’d taken to bed with no other compensation than the pleasure that he gave them, he could be so touched and so moved by a woman with whom the relationship was meant to be only a transaction? It seemed the most ironic moment of his life.

  “I’ll tell you something,” he said. “Your ‘job’ is just getting started. And you’re going to ‘have’ me a lot more.” He pecked her on the lips. “My cock is just getting warmed up.” He kissed her again, more warmly, more deeply. “Lie back. Let me show you.”

  They rolled as one, Suzanne onto her back, Justin half on top of her. He took her by one hand, kissed it, and guided it down to his crotch where the hero’s mighty weapon was stirring back into readiness for action. Licking her lips with just the tip of his tongue, Justin commanded, “Put it in you again.”

  With a breath of pleasure newly rising, Suzanne tugged at Justin’s colossal length, making him all the harder, and let him maneuver himself fully onto her. With his tool, like the pillar of some ancient temple of the gods, firmly in her grasp, Suzanne moved it into place, slipping his blunt, hot, and tender glans into the slippery wetness between her labia. Justin did the rest, driving the full length and thickness of that pillar all the way into her once again. She wailed with another eruption of absolute pleasure, and again he began to pump and drive his superhuman cylinder of stony maleness inside her. She clung to him, squeezing and clutching at his shoulders, and he grunted and cursed ecstatically, banging her deep and hard like the champion that she’d called him.

  Justin humped Suzanne so hard, and the Herculean musculature of his body was so powerful, that she thought he might actually fuse her into the bedspread and mattress beneath them. His volcanic kisses once again cut off and muffled her cries and screams of all-consuming passion. The beating of his gigantic meat inside her made her believe he could tear her to pieces from within and the hammer blows of his pelvis striking hers made her think she would find herself black and blue by the morning.

  But the sheer ecstasy that his banging generated was beyond all imagining, beyond all reason. Suzanne felt penetrated and pounded by all the manhood in the world. His handsomeness was at once the most angelic and most devilish male face in existence, and the kisses with which he consumed her lips put her in a state of rapture from which she almost believed there could be no return.

  He had what must surely be the most godlike body in existence, and he used it to set off seismic shocks of euphoria in her with the way his magnificent muscles pressed her down and the third leg of his mammoth cock slammed into her enclosing wetness. Lying under Justin, Suzanne was not being merely taken; she was being transformed into a creature of limitless joy. Letting him inside her was not work. It was a celebration of the most wonderful thing there could possibly be in life.

  His voice turned hoarse with sexual abandon between kisses. Suzanne’s screams melted into long, desperate whines of sensual release. He groaned at her, sounding as if he were dying and coming to life at once: “Fuck… Oh, Suzanne, baby… Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, you’re good. God damn, you’re fucking good…” Though the pleasure that he hammered and thundered into her with each bed-shaking thrust was the very limit of what she could bear, Suzanne held on to him and thus held on to her own ability to receive him without passing out from a pleasure beyond all pleasure.

  She spurred him on with kisses on his cheeks and his neck and the raking of her fingernails up and down the ripped muscles of his back. He responded by slamming his cock all the way into her and holding himself that way, igniting the fire of joy inside her over and over again. He did it repeatedly, time after time, until Suzanne again began to cry without tears under him, weeping from the impossible joy of his savage sex.

  Justin started to speed up again, fucking her fast and hard, and Suzanne knew that his time must be nearing once more. She held on, imagining the racing of her blood to match the piston beats of his hardness inside her. His breaths came in long, deep grunts, and she continued running her nails over his back, not to cause pain, but to heighten the pleasure for him and thus for both of them. In a fit of euphoria, Justin groaned out, “Sexy chick… Uuuhhh, fucking sexy chick…” And he kissed her savagely and returned to holding his meat in her.

  His mighty cock felt like a pillar of fire inside Suzanne’s channel. She felt her mind spinning and whirling even as she sensed his moment coming upon him. And then it hit. With a final hard slam of his meat into her, Justin roared like the bear he was, and she felt the tremendous body-quake of his orgasm.

  Into her womb once again came the white deluge of his coming. They held themselves together, gasping rapturously, and Justin stayed hard inside her even as the last of his fountain of seed gushed into her. His voice turned to a long, low rumble as he settled that superhuman body back on top of her again, and all the tension went out of her arms and legs and she collapsed beneath him.

  His cock was so large that even when it went flaccid it stayed part of the way inside her until he finally rolled off to one side of the bed. Suzanne’s body was as limp as his long hose of his cock, and he pulled her over to him for a post-coital embrace. They were both so delirious from this second incredible screwing that it was all Justin could do to take her fingers to her plundered sex, from which his seed exuded freely, and strum away at her clit while wetly kissing her lips. In his arms she was helpless to do anything to receive the pleasure that would bring her to her own climax. When it hit her, the electric jolt of womanly joy made her tighten her arms around him and deepen her return of his kiss, welcoming his tongue to fill her mouth. She melted into a shuddery fog of bliss in his arms, and again they lay still and quiet, tangled up together.

  After they recovered from this second coupling, Justin pulled himself up from the bed. Suzanne, still half-dizzy from the sexual pounding she had taken from him—of which she still wanted more—gazed up at his awesomeness rendered in light in shadow at the bedside. He looked as pained as she was at this parting. She could tell that he ached for more of her body as much as she did for his. Justin’s prodigious man-hose hung proudly between his thighs, a little rivulet of semen leaking from the tip, and she wanted to reach for it and wipe it up with her fingertip. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Up to the table,” he said. “We should break open another bottle of wine after that.”

  “Won’t that make you too woozy to go on?”

  “No, don’t worry about me. I burn it off as soon as I take it in. Especially when I’m busy in bed. I’ll be right back.”

  And he turned and went to the stairs, and Suzanne settled back onto the bed, savoring the tingle and hum in every part of her body—especially down there—at what he had done to her twice so far and what he would do so many times yet again. Suzanne realized he was right in what he said about his metamorph metabolism and alcohol. Not only could a morph man screw more than a human man, he could also drink more without getting intoxicated. She had never seen her college boyfriend drunk. Horny as all get-out, of course, but never actually drunk.

  Justin returned with wine and glasses. He opened and poured, and they sat up in bed and sipped deeply. Suzanne caressed his thigh and his hose, encouraging his hard-on to return. He playfully dipped his fingertips into his glass and painted wine onto her nipples, making her giggle, and leaned over to lick her nipples clean. With glasses empty, they were ready to resume.

  For a time they concentrated on the different but no less deliciously satisfying pursuit of oral sex. They took turns going down on each other, and once they curled themselves into a 69 for mutual pleasuring, partaking deeply of what lay at each other’s loins at the same time. Again for Suzanne came the aching feeling of having to keep her mouth open wide enough to receive the colossus of his cock, and again she dismissed the ache and reveled in the pleasure. He was huge and he was delectable,
and she would take the nuisance of the soreness to enjoy the fullness and the taste of his meat and the salty nectar that he produced for her.

  At one point he lay propped up on his pillow with his legs open and Suzanne’s head between them. He rumbled and growled at the way she gorged herself on his erection and his scrotum. The wet pulling of her mouth and licking of her tongue started to pull him into higher and higher zones of bliss, until, stroking the thick fall of her hair, he groaned, “Lie down; let me fuck you again.” He started to bring himself up to shift her onto her back, but to his surprise she reached up and pushed against his abs, making him fall back onto his pillow. Shutting his eyes against the continued waves of pleasure from her sucking his limb and his berries, Justin began to realize what she intended to do to him, and a whirlpool of anticipated joy began to spin inside him.

  She sucked and licked away at the bounty between his legs, moving her mouth up and down on him and swallowing him without letup, and every cell in Justin’s champion muscles filled themselves with the ecstasy of what he knew she had planned for him. He lay back and let it happen, allowing her to take him where she wanted him to go. He groaned deliriously, “Oh, baby, yes… Yes, suck me… Suck me, baby, don’t stop. I’m getting there…” He licked his lips and played with the hard stones of his nipples. “Oh…I’m getting there…”

  And at the insistent pulling of Suzanne’s mouth and slipping of her tongue, Justin got there. His mightily muscled frame went almost into a convulsion of spiking pleasure, and he gasped wildly, “Oh, fuck, yeah! I’m coming! Uuuhhh, I’m coming!” With his outcry, Suzanne prepared herself.

  She slipped her mouth back and held the head of his cock halfway along her tongue, and savored the hot and steamy throbbing of that immense, pulsating rod of meat, and all at once, it happened. Justin roared ecstatically and let it burst like a rupturing dam, pouring forth into Suzanne’s mouth. She felt and tasted it covering her tongue and flowing freely to the back of her throat.

  Having timed the moment and prepared herself, she was ready for it. She drank the freely pouring fountain of Justin’s thick, warm cream, swallowing it down, taking every dollop and every drop. She pulled with her mouth, carefully, tenderly at his pole, bringing forth every bit of his manly outflow, drinking it all. The sounds he made, shuddering at her consumption of his seed, were almost like the sounds of a little boy—or a bear cub; the noises of complete and utter happiness, the most blissful contentment that a man could have.

  Suzanne held his dick in her mouth until it slowly began to soften. Only then did she let it slip out. Another, smaller stream of his coming still rolled down the softening shaft and she licked it away, then swirled her tongue around his glans to take the last drops and dollops of it. He groaned at her and descended into a blissed-out state, much as he had given her.

  Suzanne kissed Justin’s limp but still oh-so-large dick from tip to base, and gave his balls a final lick, before curling up beside him and letting him wrap one massive arm around her. She caressed his abs and they stayed that way for a while, with Justin murmuring at her, “Fucking sexy chick…” Suzanne just smiled and kissed his mighty, hairy chest.

  Slipping under the covers and soon tangling them up with the rustle and play of their bodies, they went on and on into the night. Justin, his energy returning after she did him the ultimate favor of drinking his seed right from him, showed her how appreciative and how relentless he could truly be. He mounted her again, humping on top of her. He put her on her side and lay behind her, and drilled her as they lay together like spoons in a drawer. He put her on her stomach and lay atop her that way, driving his dick into her while pounding his bush against her soft ass. The night was filled with Justin’s half-animal outcries and Suzanne’s ecstatic shouts, and he pumped rivers of his seed into her over and over again.

  It was almost dawn when they were finished. Justin plummeted into sleep, as spent as he could possibly be. Suzanne, dozing and drowsing but still tingling in her loins and breasts and limbs, curled up against the naked, slumbering man-bear and invited what little sleep she could get for a while.

  With each time Justin took her, Suzanne felt increasingly less as if this were work. It had not seemed like work from the beginning, but from the moment he first stripped for her and showed her the gigantic thing between his legs, Suzanne knew that her time with him would not feel in any way like a job. She drifted into sleep hoping that Justin found her good enough to become a “regular”; even—dare she think it?—a patron.

  How surpassingly wonderful would that be? How perfect would it be for her to go from Justin being a weekend gig to being her steady patron; her ongoing, even permanent client? He was without question “patron” material. In his looks, in his body, in his Sequoia trunk of a dick and his ability to use it constantly at will, in his fortune which was equal to the gross national product of a small country, Suzanne found in him everything that she could possibly want in a client—and in a man.

  She actually let the thought creep into her near-sleeping mind: Justin Gates was more than just the perfect client. He was the ultimate boyfriend material. He was the stuff of which dream lovers were made.

  Careful, she reminded herself. Don’t forget the one basic rule, the one thing we’re always, always to remember. Don’t get too personally attached to a client. Remember who he is, and who you are, and don’t let business become something else. You’ll lose him that way.

  Suzanne sighed against the chest of the body that had brought her such incomprehensible joy. That was the rule after all. This was business, and her business was pleasure.

  But Justin Gates was without question both the best business and the best pleasure that Suzanne had ever known.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When the glow of morning stirred Suzanne awake, she let the warmth of it play over her and imagined Justin’s hands and arms and legs doing the same. Her eyes still closed, she reached across the bed, which was filled with the heavy scent of his copious seed. Her hand sought his chest, or something even nicer down lower on him, as the first thing she would feel this morning.

  All that she felt was the sheets that they had so exuberantly tangled in all night long. Startled, she pried open her eyes to the sight of nothing next to her but his side of the bed, unoccupied by him.

  Roused to full wakefulness as much as she had been aroused by the thought of waking up with him, Suzanne propped herself up on the bed and looked around, bewildered, at the empty bed area where they’d spent the night. “Justin?” she called. “Justin?” As she fully expected, her lower jaw nagged at her, complaining of things from last night about which she truly had no complaint. She rubbed at her jawline, feeling the sharp ache, and rolling her jaw around to try to soothe it.

  Soon she realized this was pointless; it would hurt until it did not, and she would just have to accept it, and even—she hoped, if luck was with her—get accustomed to it. She would definitely have to live with it for the rest of the weekend, and she relished the prospect of continuing the way it got that way. And if she were lucky, perhaps she would have a chance to grow accustomed to swallowing the mass of dynamite between Justin’s legs on a regular basis. She looked forward to a time when, perhaps, there would be no pain at all from going down on him. She would like nothing better than to practice swallowing him a little more to start the day—but where was he?

  She glanced over at the nightstand where he had left the bottle of wine and their glasses. There she found a fresh, clean glass, and beside it a bottle of water and a bucket of ice with some tongs. Sliding over to the nightstand, she found with those things a note that said, Have this with your pill.

  Suzanne looked at the note, in handwriting as neat and precise as the things he’d done to her all night were wild and passionate. He’d thought of everything. She cracked open the bottle and used the tongs to fill the glass with ice. Then she went over to her bags which lay at one side of the bed space to find her prescription.

  Presently, sipping t
he ice water after using it to wash down her pill and letting the coldness of it ease the twinges in her jaw just a little, she heard the soft sounds of splashing coming from above and outside, which solved the mystery of why she’d woken up by herself.

  Sliding out of bed and putting her feet on the floor, Suzanne could not help but giggle ridiculously at the way her body responded with she stood up. Her legs felt so wobbly that she almost toppled backwards onto the bed again. She actually had to lean against the nightstand to prop herself up at first, and she covered her mouth to mute the sudden guffaw that came bursting out of her.

  She seriously wondered if she were going to be able to walk across the space to the chair where Justin had left his shirt and put it on—men who screwed her always found it sexy when she put on an article of their clothing afterward—and get herself up the stairs and out to the deck.

  Perhaps she should just lie there and wait for him. The fact was that Justin was such a mass of muscle and was so phenomenally hung, and had banged her with such force all night, that she could barely stand up now. Leaning on the nightstand, she honestly laughed at the thought of it. She had been truly mauled by the man-bear all night long, and it was incomparably wonderful, but now she honestly suspected she might have to ask Justin to carry her around from place to place in the house until Monday morning, assuming he did not just keep her in bed.

 

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