Alpha Arrangement: A BBW BWWM Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Arcane Affairs Agency)

by Camille Laurent

  As soon as it sent, three bouncing dots at the bottom of the screen showed me that Connor was already typing something in response. No problem. I’m here if you want to talk.

  I kicked the covers off of me and stared at the ceiling. I needed help. I needed someone to talk to who wasn’t my Beta.

  A faint knock on the door sent a startled shock through my body.

  “Everything okay in there, sweetie? I heard movement from downstairs,” my mom’s muffled voice said through the door. Damn shifter mothers, with their excellent hearing. That led to a lot of awkward moments as a teenager...

  “Come in,” I said.

  She slowly tiptoed in and stepped around the trash that had accumulated over the past two days. She sat down on the chair next to my desk and delicately crossed her legs, placing her wrinkled hands on her kneecaps.

  “Aubrey?” she asked.

  I nodded and rubbed my temples before burying my face in my hands. “She wants to leave.”

  “Leave you?” she asked, cocking her head.

  “No, but yes,” I said. “She wants to leave here. As in, find a new town for the clan to live in.”

  She nodded her head and let out a sad sigh. “I don’t blame her,” she said. “These are dangerous times for our people.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “But you’ll miss her,” she said, relaxing her shoulders and frowning.

  “I think it’s my fault she’s leaving.”

  “Mason, no --”

  “If it wasn’t for Gregory being such a fucking psychopath, she’d still want to stay.”

  “You’re not responsible for Gregory. It’s not like you brought Gregory to her and tried to get her to hang around him all of the time --”

  “No, but --”

  “ -- but what? You actually defended her from Gregory. You were out for his blood.”

  I clenched my jaw and dug my nails into my palms, causing the crescent-shaped scars to break and bleed once again.

  “Everyone leaves me,” I growled. “First Dad, then Aubrey…”

  “I haven’t left, sweetie. I’m not going to leave you.”

  “I still haven’t sent a full status update to the agency in days. I’ve just been so swamped with this marriage thing…”

  “I don’t blame you. Even agents need a break sometimes.” She fiddled with her necklace and stared out the window behind me. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Mason. It’s not your fault Aubrey left, nor is it your fault that your dad left.”

  “It feels like it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I think Aubrey is my mate, Mom.”

  “Oh, I know,” she laughed. “I knew this the first time I saw you together. It’s obvious.”

  My face started to get warm with embarrassment. My mom had never really acknowledged any of my flings in the past. If anything, she seemed to think that no one was good enough for her son. It wasn’t until Aubrey that she started actually talking about it more openly. “Is that why this hurts so much?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It hurts to be away from your mate.” She pressed her necklace to her heart. “It hurts even more to feel like you pushed them away.” Her voice started to waver, and I could tell she was starting to tear up.

  “Mom…” I said, standing up to try to comfort her.

  “No, sit down. You smell like wet bear, anyways,” she chuckled. “I know what you’re going through. And in my opinion, I think you need to fight for her. You two are strong apart, but are even stronger together. Most arranged marriages aren’t like this -- they don’t have the connection you do. Most non-arranged marriages aren’t like this, even. You two have something special.”

  “But how? I want to fight to the death for her --

  “And you almost did, by nearly killing Gregory…”

  I nodded solemnly. “But I don’t want to cross any boundaries. Gregory has done that one too many times -- she doesn’t deserve to be re-traumatized by another person ever again.”

  “You’re right, that’s true. But you’re not going to re-traumatize her. She deserves to be fought for. It sounds like she’s fought this battle with Gregory by herself in the past -- you need to be the one to show her that she’s not alone.” She picked up a stray feather off of the chair. “Fight for her, Mason.”

  “You’re right, Mom,” I said, my heart feeling both pained and hopeful.

  “I always am,” she said with a wink. “You’ve become a person your father could only dream of being.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said as she began to walk out of my room. “I’m proud of you, Mason.”

  “Thank you, Mom,” I said as I grabbed my phone and began to call Aubrey. She gave me a knowing smile and gently shut the door behind her.

  ***

  The phone rang once before I heard Aubrey’s soft, gentle voice on the other end of the line. “Mason?” she asked.

  “I made a mistake, Aubrey,” I said, biting my bloody fingernails. “I love you, and I don’t want what’s between us to end.”

  She broke out into heavy sobs. “I miss you so much, Mason,” she said.

  “Let me come back to you,” I said. “Let me hold you and show you how much you mean to me. Let me fight for you, Aubrey. We will fight together.”

  Chapter 13: Aubrey

  “Mason changed his mind.” Emma and I were sitting at the kitchen table while listening to the gentle tapping of raindrops on the windows.

  “He what?” Emma said, nearly choking on the coffee she was drinking. It was 9:00PM – I had no clue why she was drinking coffee so late, but that’s just the kind of person Emma is. “When did he tell you this?”

  “Right before I called you over here,” I said. The smell of full bodied, freshly ground Colombian beans wafted from the kitchen. It brought back memories of lazy Sunday mornings with my parents; my dad would quietly carve his tiny bear sculptures out of wood and various minerals while slowly sipping his coffee. “I was just as surprised as you were,” I said. “But he did it. He said that he made a mistake by not fighting for me.”

  Emma reached over and gently rubbed my shoulder blades. “Isn’t that what you really wanted, though?”

  “I mean...maybe?”

  “Oh, come on,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. You literally were crying yesterday and telling me that you didn’t want to be without him, and that you felt like such a co-dependent little --”

  “I get it, I get it,” I said. “I’m a hypocrite, okay? And I’m in denial.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” she said. “You’re head over heels for this guy, and you have been since day one.”

  I looked down at my freshly painted pink nails (courtesy of Emma, who was convinced a makeover would cheer me up). “I was afraid, okay?”

  Emma’s face softened. “Of course you were. I mean, not only was someone in your clan murdered, but you’re also getting married to the agent sent to investigate it. On top of that, the guy you’re marrying is Gregory’s brother. I’d be fucking terrified -- hell, I am fucking terrified for you and the clan.”

  “When you put it that way….”

  “But Mason has been there for you every step of the way, despite everything that has happened. He’s a special guy, Aubrey.”

  “He is,” I said, “but am I really ready for marriage?”

  “Is anyone?” she said. “I mean, really. Most people have some doubts about their marriage or the idea of marriage. That’s why the entire process is so stressful.”

  “True,” I said.

  “I’m going to be blunt with you. Okay?”

  “When are you not?” I said, chuckling.

  “You’d be an idiot if you didn’t call Mason right now and tell him you want to marry him and have his babies, or whatever.”

  “I am not going to say that,” I said. “I am definitely not going to say that.”

  “Okay, then just say the first part
,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “Leave out the babies for now. But you need to tell him how you feel, aside from just saying ‘I love you and miss you.’ You feel more than that, and we both know it.”

  I pressed my lips together and started picking at the nail polish on my thumbnail. “Why did the council do this to me? Why would they agree to an arranged marriage?”

  “Ugh, no idea,” Emma said, clicking her tongue before taking another sip of coffee.

  Despite my hesitation, I had no doubt in my mind that I wanted to be with Mason. I guess a little part of me wanted to fight for my independence, wanted to fight the idea that I would become less independent if I was with someone. I also couldn’t stop thinking of Gregory, who would become my brother-in-law, albeit in name only. I wanted so badly to separate myself from him, but it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, it failed.

  Maybe fighting was my problem. I fight out of fear, and push away the idea of love. Giving into fear meant distancing myself from Mason, the man I love, and I seemed to keep doing that over and over again.

  I’m not broken any more. Gregory tried, but he failed. Looking back, I realized that losing my parents and dealing with Gregory made me emotionally stronger. I am not the weak, feeble teenager that I felt I was.

  I feel that I can finally tell myself that It’s okay for me to fall in love with Mason. I deserve love. I deserve a partner who cares for me. Mason isn’t going to rob me of my independence; he’s going to make sure that I feel free to live my life the way I want to, with him by my side. We’re partners in crime, not two hopeless souls who are shackled together.

  I set my palms down on the table and looked at Emma. “Enough of my complaining: we’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  ***

  I never thought I'd feel free in a man’s arms...but Mason’s embrace not only freed me, it empowered me. It was as if he was the missing piece to the puzzle I never knew needed solving. His sandalwood cologne turned me to mush, and his stubbly chin against my forehead was comforting in ways I never knew were possible.

  “Marry me, Mason,” I said, as we stood in the foyer of his mansion.

  “Isn’t the man supposed to be the one proposing?” He said with a chuckle, his voice sending vibrations through my chest.

  “Screw gender norms, and say yes already,” I said, eagerly bringing my lips to his.

  “Yes,” he said in between kisses. “I've never wanted anything more in my entire life.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. He kissed me again, more passionately this time, and carried me up to his bedroom.

  “You haven’t been in my room before, have you?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Well, you’ll become very familiar with it shortly,” he said, his voice a sexy growl. “I also cleaned it before you got here, because it was a mess, so it’s all ready for us to destroy it again.”

  “I like the sound of that,” I said, kissing him before we entered the door to his room.

  His bedroom was massive. His bed was easily twice the size of a standard King bed, and he had a four-poster bed frame made out of mahogany. One of his walls was made entirely of rustic exposed brick, while the others were painted a deep reddish-brown. In front of his bed was a grey brick fireplace that was shaped sort of like a massive pizza oven. A diamond chandelier hung from the vaulted ceilings, and the fire in the fireplace reflected off of it and created tiny rainbow prisms all over his room.

  He gently put me back on my feet and sat on the edge of his bed. He then grabbed my waist and pulled me so that I was standing in between his open legs.

  “Let me show you how I feel about you,” he said, his voice raspy. “Let me make you feel as amazing as you are.”

  I lifted my hands and rested them on his broad shoulders. His hands drifted to the bottom of my thin white t-shirt. He gripped the fabric and slowly lifted it up over my head.

  He brought his mouth to my chest. His lips grazed my breasts through my lacy black bra, causing my back to arch ever so slightly. I removed my hands from his shoulders and pulled aside my bra straps one at a time. His hands reached up to cup my breasts, grabbing them gently. They slowly traveled to my back, and delicately unhooked my bra straps. He pulled off my bra and tossed it aside.

  I let out a soft moan as I placed both hands on the side of his face, and gently directed him to my now exposed breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth as his hands gripped my sides. With every lick, I felt an electric jolt of pleasure zap down to my now dripping pussy. He pulled back and looked back at me.

  "Lay down," he commanded. I dropped my hands from his face, took off my denim jeans, and sauntered to his bed.

  His sheets were a luxurious silk, the color of obsidian; the mattress felt like a cloud floating in the sky. I closed my eyes as my shoulders touched the bed, trying to focus on everything but my rapidly beating heart. I detected the faintest scent of his sandalwood cologne, combined with the aroma of my vanilla and strawberry-scented lotion.

  "Are you okay?" he whispered, caressing my inner thigh.

  "Yes," I quietly moaned.

  "Mmm, I'm glad," he purred.

  He climbed over me, positioning his head directly over mine. His hair fell forward, brushing my face slightly. His lips were just barely out of reach, and I so badly wanted to feel them pressed against mine. His lips twisted into a subtle grin, lifting one hand to touch my hip and tease its way into my thong. A single finger inched toward my slit, causing me to thrust and writhe slowly. He ran up and down my outer folds, deliberately avoiding my throbbing clit. A single finger circled my entrance, causing me to clench and moan even louder.

  "You like that, don't you?" he asked, a wry smile appearing on his face.

  I gripped the sheets, wanting so badly for him to be inside of me. He looked at my clenched fists and smirked as he dipped a single finger into my entrance.

  "I thought so,” he said.

  Two fingers kneaded my swollen g-spot, sending tingling shocks of pleasure all the way to my fingertips, which were still gripping his sheets. I closed my eyes, deeply inhaling the delicious aroma of his cologne mixed with the musky scent of sex. He pressed his lips to mine and started to kiss me as his fingers kept hitting my spot. My yelps and moans made it harder for me to kiss him, and every pump of his fingers made it harder for me to stay still. My legs went weak as feelings of pleasure built up deep inside of me. My back arched involuntarily.

  "Cum for me," he ordered. He massaged harder. My walls clenched, sending shockwaves of bliss through every inch of me. Harder, still. The waves became more intense, and my moans turned into ragged gasps.

  "Good girl," he said, still softly kneading at my spot. My hands unclenched, feeling just as weak as my legs.

  He removed his fingers from my still-clenching pussy, sat back on his knees, and slowly took off my thong. A rush of cool air gently caressed my wet folds. I shivered, and my toes curled from the sensation. He examined my soft curves with his eyes as he slowly unbuttoned his top, throwing it to the side of the bed with the rest of my clothes. He slowly positioned himself so that he was lying on his sculpted abdomen, his head resting between my thighs. He once again ran his finger up and down my folds. He took both of his hands and delicately spread my wet lips apart. He brought his mouth to my clit and gently sucked on it. A soft moan once again escaped my lips. A few quick licks of his tongue sent my body reeling. He took one of his fingers and plunged it into my entrance, covering it in my wetness, which he then used to rub my clit.

  He was sending me close to the edge once again. He moved his hands under me and grabbed my plump ass while burying his face to suck my clit once again. His nails dug into my skin, creating a beautiful mixture of pleasure and pain.

  The vibrations from his moans radiated through my pussy, triggering yet another climax. He held on tighter and kept licking me until I convulsed. My legs were jelly, and my heartbeat was erratic.

 
; He pulled himself up from the bed and stood in front of it as I lay there, exhausted from my climax.

  "Do you want me to fuck you?" he said, his muscles rippling as he unzipped his pants. I bit my lip and nodded, barely able to move my head.

  "No?" he teased.

  "Fuck, yes," I said, out of breath.

  "I want you to beg for it,"

  "I want your cock buried deep inside of me," I said, moaning in anticipation.

  His pants dropped to the floor with a soft thud, and he slowly stepped out of his boxer briefs. He gripped his massive erection and stroked his throbbing shaft up and down. He bent over and grabbed my thighs, and pulled me so that I was at the very edge of the bed. He lifted my legs up so that my feet rested on his shoulders. He put a single hand back on my thigh, and grabbed his dick, positioning it right at my entrance.

  "Look at me, and say it again." he said, rubbing his precum-soaked head up and down my slit.

  "I fucking need your cock, right now," I said, trying to grind myself onto his cock while staring into his piercing blue eyes.

  "Do you want this cock?" He said, slowly easing himself just barely inside me.

  I gasped, stretching around him. "Yes, fuck, yes!" I said hoarsely.

  Every inch of his cock sent me soaring. Our bodies formed a mixture of dark chocolate and sweet cream. His eyes searched me, captivated by the sight of my luscious breasts bouncing with every thrust. The sound of our moans meshed in mid-air, intertwining, forming a harmony that was complemented by the rhythm of our bodies. My eyes locked with his once again.

  "I want you to cum hard on my cock," he growled in between moans, driving into me harder. I was once again claimed by the sweet sensation of pleasure, rapidly approaching a crescendo. My orgasm washed over me as my pussy contracted around his throbbing cock. He kept going as I rode it out, increasing in speed.

  "Fuck..." he groaned, pulling his cock out as he came all over my soft stomach. His abs clenched with every spurt and shudder. I was mesmerized by the way his cum dripped on me, forming a trail of pearls on my skin. He collapsed on the bed next to me, exhaling audibly as he closed his eyes.