“Mmmmm,” she cooed, her hands softly running through his hair as he placed soft kisses across her breasts and down her stomach. She bit her lip as his tongue came out and gave a long slow lick right up the front of her underwear.
“How do you smell so good?” he said, his tongue going back to sweep against her sopping wet fabric.
“Unnngh….” Nicole moaned, feeling every bump of his tongue through her soaked panties.
With a pull and a snap, Michael tore her panties from her body, leaving her hot core splayed open to his attentions. He descended on her immediately, his lips and tongue tasting and probing in an urgent feral way. One of his hands pressed down on her stomach, sealing her to the table. The other hand spread her lips, the air in her apartment suddenly cold wherever his hot tongue left a wake. His tongue dipped into her, sampling her honey. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he said, his tongue sliding up and down her lips.
“Shut…up…” she managed between gasps. Looking down her body, she saw a pair of golden eyes looking up into hers. She was his prey, caught and unmoving, and he would do with her what he wanted. She threw her head back and cried out as his lips planted down around her clit, his tongue licking her relentlessly. Her eyes closed and she floated in a warm sea, her orgasm becoming an otherworldly experience. Muffled sounds reached her ears and she opened her eyes.
Michael stepped out of the last of his clothes. A streetlight from outside cast an orange glow into the apartment, giving his jawline a striking appearance. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took her in. His heavy cock twitched, the head glistening in pre-cum. Behind this his sac hung heavy and low.
She sat up and scooted off the table. She stood in front of him, her fingernails running light trails through his curly chest hair. The little black wisps pulled taut then snapped into their original curls. The white lines she left in his skin felt like she was marking him. She liked that. “It’s my turn to have some fun,” she said, kissing her way down his sternum as she knelt in front of him.
“Oh Nicole,” Michael said, his eyes closing and his head going back. His legs, thick and strong as tree trunks, flexed as her mouth left a damp trail of kisses down his abs. He planted his hands on his hips akimbo style.
Nicole playfully shot her tongue into his belly button, giving him a jolt. She reached his aching prick, heavy and engorged. She stroked him in her hand, enjoying the girth and power of his member. Like hot silk over a steel shaft, she gave him a squeeze and saw a new pearly drop form at the end of his cock. Her other hand went to his balls, giving them an appreciative squeeze. “And what do you have for me here?”
“It’s going to be all over your rug in moment if you keep teasing me,” he said.
“Such a wasteful boy,” she said, bringing him to her mouth. The head of his member pushed past her lips, the crown slipping past her teeth to pin her tongue. She gurgled, bobbing her head along his shaft as she sucked the musky saltiness from his cock. His pre-cum seeped out, his body eager to deposit his seed. She pulled her mouth off of him and swirled her tongue down his shaft, lapping at the connection between his cock and balls.
“Such a good little cocksucker,” he said, his voice a rough growl.
Nicole took his complement and redoubled her efforts, bobbing her mouth further down his shaft while one of her hands went south to relieve her neglected slit. She slipped two fingers inside herself when the cock in her mouth popped out.
With a bestial roar, Michael pulled her forward until she was on her hands and knees. He kneeled behind her, his dominant position reinforced by the huge glistening cock in his hand. His balls pulled up tight against his body, his body twitched with primal lust.
“Take me,” Nicole whimpered as she looked back at him.
Michael's fingernails dug into her hips, almost piercing the skin with savage sharpness. He was over the edge, his Bear now completely in control of his body. There was no yesterday and no tomorrow. There was just the prone female in front of him, assaulting his senses with her heat and lust. He pressed the massive head of his cock against her entrance.
“Oh God!” Nicole cried out as he slammed into her, completely filling her until the fronts of his thighs were hot against the backs of hers. All her senses were subdued, her mind completely focused on the huge presence behind and inside of her. Her hair was plastered against the side of her face, damp with sweat. Her fingertips curled into the rug as Michael mounted her, pumping in and out.
Michael grunted, his hips swinging forward to collide with Nicole’s ample ass. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her body. Sweat trickled down his chest and mixed with the creamy combination of their juices.
Nicole could feel him tense up as he bent forward, his face pressed against hers. His lips found hers, and they kissed passionately as he pushed himself inside her one last time. His hands held her hips like a vice as his cock spasmed.
She felt herself explosively cum as he filled her with his hot sticky seed, his cock sending pulse after pulse of thick fluid into her womb. Lightning shot through her body, her mind a storm of pleasure.
Panting, Michael pulled out of her and collapsed, face up on the rug.
He lay beside her and stroked her hair. “You are something else. Here I was rehearsing my apology.”
“Apology for?” she said, curious.
“How I acted when we first met. And to thank you for not exposing us in the article.”
“Telling the world was never an option.”
“When you left I didn’t know what to think or expect. Very few people would know this and not spill.”
“Very few people can be practical like me. I can imagine what you go through every day hiding from the world,” she said, looking over at the couch where she’d lived the past two weeks. “I can imagine it quite well.”
He squinted. “What if I hadn’t shown up tonight to do my best John Cusack impersonation?”
Nicole laughed. “I would have gotten my shit together. Eventually. But I’m glad things didn’t go that way.”
“Not everyone would give up a ton of money and a career boost like that. You could have sold me out to the highest bidder but you didn’t. Instead you wrote a hell of an article on our band. My family.”
“You read it?”
“A few times. I loved it.”
Nicole beamed. “I’m glad you did.”
“I usually don’t bother reading things that groupies write…” he said, the dim light in the room revealing an impish grin.
“I forgot, when you Shift do you turn into a Bear or a giant asshole?” she said.
“Usually both. Come here.” he said and kissed her.
I could get used to this, she thought and kissed him back.
Bearly Tamed
Big Paw Security Book I
by
Becca Fanning
BEARLY TAMED
Linnie Foster felt like she needed a cigarette. She’d never smoked, but in the movies, this seemed like the sort of situation where you’d have a cigarette. It was a nerves thing. They calmed your nerves, right?
The motel room she was trapped in seemed tiny, even though the police had upgraded her to a double. Pastel shapes covered the peeling wallpaper. Were they once flowers? This motel didn’t seem like the kind of place that rented rooms by the week very often; Linnie suspected they were usually leased by the hour.
One of the two detectives, Parker, was a heavy set, wide-shouldered man. He was the one currently keeping watch at the window. Parker would pull the curtain back and glance out into the parking lot every time a set of lights drifted past the window. He seemed to suffer from a chronic digestive disagreement, often putting a hand to his stomach and grimacing. He did it with such a passive automation that he probably no longer noticed. His stomach gurgled again. “Hurg,” he said, rubbing his stomach like a genie lamp.
The other detective, a woman named Longheim, had a severe, angular face. She sat in a chair beside the window with her elbows res
ting on her knees. She was trying to look focused, but mostly looked tired. She was fidgeting with a pack of worn playing cards, fanning them open and loudly shuffling them together. She never drew a card or even looked at them. Just fan, bridge, shuffle. Fan, bridge, shuffle.
The image of two detectives protecting a valuable witness was what kept Linnie thinking about how much she needed a cigarette. It would complete the look to have a plume of smoke floating up from her cigarette. Maybe she could sit near one of the table lamps and dramatically turn it on when…what? What did she think would happen? The waiting felt like it had stretched from hours into long days; the quiet tension hung in the air.
Linnie’s thoughts drifted to young Brandon, the image of him looking up at her as he clung to her leg. She could vividly remember the boy’s haunted eyes looking at her from behind his mother’s skirt. Brandon’s drawings were so disturbing; so much black and red, bodies with their limbs akimbo, often eyeless. He was a good boy. He was still a good boy, but for how much longer? How long can you be around that kind of family before it seeps into you, corrupting you from inside? Until all you know is an oath you’ve sworn and a ring you’ve kissed.
She could recall conversations she overheard from the next room, dark and stern. Codes when they were careful and outright abhorrent things when they weren’t. That’s when the generous cash bonuses came. When she’d agreed to become Brandon’s nanny, she had never heard of the Accardi family. She had gone to school for early childhood education; she’d been excited to be hired as Brandon’s nanny. So much potential in that little scrunched up face.
But that seemed like forever ago. By the time Linnie went to the police, she had learned more than she’d ever wanted to know about the mob and was terrified of what might come next. There was only one code in organized crime: you don’t snitch. Bad things happened when you did. Final things.
The casualness of the process had thrown Linnie for a loop. She thought it would be like in the movies. Like a femme fatale in East Berlin, she’d pass an envelope to a detective on a bus bench. Then she’d be whisked away under heavy guard to some place safe and far away.
Instead, she got called in to the station where a bored lieutenant filled out a form at the front desk. A guy next to her was screaming at the desk sergeant because he wouldn’t dispatch a patrol car to investigate a broken car window. A line formed behind her. A line, like it was the bank on payday.
If justice was anything, it was slow. Slow, deliberate and full of paperwork. What came next seemed to be long waits in crappy motel rooms as the district attorney waited for a court date. And of course, it was an election year for some bureaucrat, so every action had to be weighed against political cost. The police hadn’t let Linnie out of their sight for three weeks, and that made for very few trips out of the motel room. She’d begun to go a little stir-crazy. These rooms never got HBO.
Now, here she was, waiting to be handed off to another set of detectives. She sighed deeply, and Longheim looked over at her. The cards paused their endless dance.
“You okay?” the detective asked, the fatigue heavy in her voice giving way to annoyance.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’m fine.” Linnie stood up and walked over to the bathroom. She didn’t have to go, but she knew she was sick of just sitting around waiting for the handoff to come. She closed the bathroom door behind her and examined her reflection in the mirror, and sighed again. She looked worn, stretched … and tired.
Linnie heard a knock at the hotel room’s door. Through the bathroom door, she heard muffled voices; Parker and Longheim, and then … another voice she recognized. She sighed, and blinked at her image in the mirror, and then ran a hand over her face. The voice was Martin Clarke, the district attorney. Maybe there was finally a court date?
When Linnie exited the bathroom, she found that there were now six people in suits packed into the small double room. There were Longheim and Parker, plus Mr. Clarke, but the other three were new. Compared to the detectives, their suits looked expensive, and tailored.
One of the strangers swiveled his head to look at Linnie, and tilted his dark sunglasses to look over them at her. Linnie felt both a thrill and a chill pass through her, as the man’s glittering, golden eyes locked with hers from beneath a cowboy hat.
She’d heard of them, of course; the Shifters who lived alongside and among humans. She’d never met a Shifter before, though. The sharp-dressed man’s eyes narrowed, noting Linnie’s surprise. Did he…did he just sniff the air?
“Linnie.” Martin said. He sounded worn out, exhausted. “I’ve got some people here I’d like you to meet. This is Clive, that’s Cain, and this is Marcus.” He indicated the three well-built men standing between him and the door. Each of them was wearing long coats and dark glasses with somber expressions.
Linnie nodded, without extending her hand. “Pleasure to meet you all. Martin, are we...”
“There’s been a problem.” Martin said, his eyes darting around the objects in the room. He always did this, like one day he’d see a cobra on the nightstand and jump back in time. “Somewhere in my office, there’s been a leak.”
Linnie felt her blood run cold and her stomach turn somersaults. “A…leak? What the fuck do you mean? How the hell does that happen? Oh God. Oh God…what does that mean?”
“There’s a…good chance that members of the Accardi family have isolated our source.”
Through the cold chill of her fear, Linnie felt the red-hot burn of anger. “You son of a bitch.” She resisted slapping Martin, but only just barely. She turned away, so that he couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes. “You told me my name would stay out of this. That when all of this, all of this would be over, and I could…”
“The situation’s changed, Linnie, and…and I’m sorry.” Martin said, holding his voice steady. “But, the Accardi are obviously on edge. They’re afraid of what you might know. This puts us… honestly, Linnie, this puts us in a great operating position. They’re nervous, and their power structure is shifting. This is a great opportunity for us to…”
Linnie glared at Martin, and he grew quiet under her withering stare.
Parker spoke up. “So who are you guys?” he asked, gesturing towards the three men in dark suits that had entered with Martin. “You ain’t cops.”
Martin half-turned. “Because of the…high-profile nature of this prosecution, and the unknown nature of this leak, we’ve been able to access some, uh, unconventional resources. These gentlemen are…third-party experts with regards to witness protection. They’re going to be taking over Linnie’s care, to ensure she stays safe. This is Cain DuMont, Linnie, and he-”
Linnie shook her head in disbelief. “You people. So, I’m supposed to go with …”
The man Martin called Cain interrupted Linnie’s sentence, interjecting to say, “Ms. Foster, I understand your concerns, and we definitely should discuss it. But now is absolutely not the right time.” Cain stepped, reaching out to take Linnie’s hand. Like a warm vice, his grip was strong and somehow comforting.
Martin opened his mouth to say something, but a firm look from Cain cut him off.
“Now” Cain continued “...is time for you and I to leave.”
Linnie looked at her hand, held in Cain’s. His hands were wide and steady, and the feeling of him holding her hand reassured Linnie. She felt safe, or at least safer, with Cain holding her hand. And those eyes…God, those eyes!
After a pause, she nodded, and Cain motioned towards the door with his head. He then turned, saying, “Clive, you’ll…?”
“We’ll get everything squared away,” Clive answered, while Linnie and Cain headed out the door.
A few wordless minutes later, Cain was pulling his black SUV away from the parking lot, with Linnie seated beside him. He moved methodically, practiced training making everything he did automatic.
The Complete BBW, Shifter, Paranormal Romance Reader Page 11