by Sable Sylvan
“You like that, big boy?” asked Rose with a pout, looking up at Thorne. Looking up at Thorne, Rose looked simultaneously cute and sexy from Thorne’s angle, her pout sticking out and her tongue teasing his tip.
“You know it, baby,” said Thorne with a gulp as Rose gave him a smile and rubbed his shaft back and forth before placing the tip back on her tongue and slowly sliding the cock back into her mouth while keeping eye contact with Thorne, making the interaction even more emotionally intense.
Rose moaned as she tasted Thorne’s natural muskiness in her mouth. Thorne’s shaft tasted amazing, like nature’s own candy. It wasn’t honey sweet like the juices of her honey pot, but the masculine nature of the shaft’s taste set her lower parts aflame, as it was a taste she associated with Thorne and only with Thorne, as the taste was unique to Thorne, the muskiness carrying with it a hint of nuttiness...but of course, Thorne’s two hanging nuts also needed some attention.
Rose held out her hands and gently brushed her finger tips over Thorne’s balls, making Thorne grip on the bed even more tightly, as she swirled the shaft, now at full size, around in her mouth. Rose popped the shaft out of her mouth and swirling down, starting at the base, using her tongue to trace a pattern down his tongue, swirling the cock around and around. The curvy BBW mixed things up by using her hand to twist in the opposite direction with each stroke. The varied sensations were the closest thing that Thorne had ever felt to a real pussy.
“You like that?” asked Rose, stroking up and down, looking up at Thorne innocently, pulling gently on his tie.
“I’ll never understand how you go from sex kitten to trophy wife,” said Thorne.
“I’ve only been your wife for a six hours,” said Rose as she got up and sat on the side of the bed.
“You’ll only be my wife forever,” said Thorne as he slid off his jacket and unbuttoned the shirt and tie. He loosened his tie, undid his shirt buttons, and undid his cummerbund, placing them behind him on a chair in a messy pile, before scooping the other clothes off the bed and putting them, along with the wedding dress, on the chaise lounge at the end of the bed.
Rose giggled when Thorne turned around. “I can’t believe you’re wearing that,” said Rose.
Thorne grabbed at his crotch. “The little guy had to get in on the festivities too.” Thorne’s package was clad in a pair of boxer briefs in all black except for a suit design right over the cock. “See? I can make him dance.” Thorne put his hands behind his head and stood perfectly still before flexing his cock, making it twitch like a snake on a hot plate.
“Get over here...and get in me,” ordered Rose between laughs.
Thorne got onto the bed. “Sure you don’t want a lap dance?” he asked, flexing the cock again.
“Get that thing off,” said Rose, shielding her eyes. “That’s so corny.”
“If you insist,” said Thorne, shimmying down the underwear and kicking it off carefully. “But now that I’ve shown you mine, you better show me yours.”
“Unwrap it yourself,” said Rose
Thorne ran a finger along Rose’s slit and watched as the wet spot on the nude underwear’s flat side turned even darker and widened in area. Thorne pulled down the nude underwear and exposed Rose’s honey pot. “Guess you must really want me,” said Thorne.
“Of course I do,” said Rose, pulling Thorne up for a kiss, but as she did so, Thorne positioned himself so that he’d slide right into his blushing bride. The sudden filling sensation surprised Rose, who clung to Thorne as her body adapted to the new mass. “Wow. That was fast.”
“Hey, you’re the one who kept begging for this dick,” whispered Thorne, twitching his cock inside of Rose.
“I love when you do that,” said Rose with a sigh. “It feel so good, Thorne.”
“That is why I do it,” said Thorne dryly, pulling out a mere inch before pressing back in. Rose could feel every inch of Thorne inside of her, from her entrance to her G spot, and each inch felt like pure ecstasy. She could feel Thorne’s chest pound against her own and she could feel the delay, seconds later, when the pulse reached his shaft and the veins in his cock would pump more and more blood around and around, thickening the shaft as it became even more swollen, until Rose’s tightness stopped it from growing any larger.
“So...what’s it like having sex with your wife?” asked Rose, looking up at Thorne and running her hands through his hair.
“I don’t know, what’s it like having sex with your husband?” asked Thorne, mirroring Rose’s motion and pressing his hand through Rose’s hair.’
“Incredible,” said Rose, a teardrop falling from her eyes.
“Don’t cry,” said Thorne, slowing his thrusts while kissing the tear away before whispering in her ears, “Rose, my love...what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” said Rose. “It’s just...I never thought that this would be different, that married sex would be different from the sex we had when we were engaged.”
“Is it bad?” asked Thorne bluntly.
“No, it’s...it’s beautiful,” said Rose. “And that’s why I’m crying: I’m so happy, Thorne, and this...this is so beautiful.”
“No, Rose...you’re so beautiful,” said Thorne, pulling Rose up as he swiveled his hips up so that Rose was sitting on his lap. He kept them both upright, his hands across her back, Rose’s arms around his firm, strong back, as he gently bobbed Rose up and down on his shaft in liquid smooth motions, making the most tender love he could to her while he kissed her tears away, one by one, each salty tear as hard for him to swallow as an ocean, as Thorne was holding back tears of his own, staying strong for his Rose...because what good was a thorn if it couldn’t protect a rose?
“Thorne... I love you, so much,” Rose sobbed as Thorne patted her back.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stop?” asked Thorne.
“No, please...keep going, Thorne,” said Rose. “Be my rock. Don’t ever stop.”
“Anything for you, my love,” whispered Thorne, keeping his rhythm strong and steady. “Anything for you.”
Thorne caressed each of Rose’s curves, running his strong hands over her skin as if he was feeling a rose, unfolding each petal in his hand to learn about its unique softness. These were the curves that he knew from memory, curves he would be able to identify if his eyes were closed, but each time, he found something new: new places of softness, new places that blushed colors he’d only dreamed of, new ways to touch Rose to send shudders of sensual excitement through her body.
Thorne’s mate mark, like the pads of his fingers, was rough, and the mark and the pads were the only rough things that rubbed against Rose. The mate mark rubbed against Rose’s breasts, the rough parts kissing the tops of her cleavage at times, and at other times, pressing against the soft curves of Rose’s cheeks, but Thorne’s shaft, covered in smooth skin, was lubricated by Rose’s juice and didn’t rub roughly against her. Instead, each stroke brought Rose closer and closer to the edge, and Rose came so close...but she needed something extra to push her into the throes of sheer ecstasy.
“I want you to come, Rose,” said Thorne. “Please, babe. Come for me.”
That was it: the three magic words that Rose needed to hear. Come for me. They drove her over the edge, the dirtiest things Thorne had said to her during the lovemaking, the only order but the strongest one Thorne could have given. Those three words were an order, not to Rose but to Rose’s body, and the body obeyed, as ever last curve of Rose’s body pushed the biggest orgasm she’d ever had out of her body and onto Thorne, who remained hard until the bitter end, when Thorne couldn’t hold back any longer and he too climaxed, in his wife.
Thorne kept a hold of Rose, her head against his chest. He stayed inside of her and held her long after the deed was done, until they finally parted, to get changed and start the rest of their lives together, as husband and wife, their marriage consummated after they’d waited years to find each other, the thorn for a rose, the rose for a thorn.
***
One SUV ride, one helicopter flight, and ten hours on a private plane later, the newlyweds were at their destination. Rose, exhausted from the wedding festivities, had slept on the plane, her head nestled into Thorne’s shoulder. Thorne had napped a bit as well, but he was the first to be roused gently when they reached their destination. Thorne woke Rose up with a small kiss. “Rose, honey?” said Thorne. “Babe, we’re here.”
“Here?” asked Rose. “Hmm?”
“Yeah, we’re here, the porters just finished loading the luggage into the chopper,” said Thorne. “Come on...the only thing missing is you.”
As Rose exited the plane with Thorne, she rubbed her eyes, not looking around much until Thorne led her to the chopper. Just what she wanted: another helicopter ride.
Thorne helped Rose into the passenger seat. She put on her headphones and held on tight as the helicopter rose into the air. “Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Rose asked Thorne, turning to look at him from her seat.
“I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself,” said Thorne with his boyish smile. “Take a look out the window.”
Rose looked out the window: they were now high enough in the air for her to see all the sprawling city...and although from the air, the buildings all seemed to blend into one another, covered with the pastel lights of dawn, one building stood out above all the others, almost glimmering in the dawn light, shaped like the letter “A”.
“No. Frikkin’. Way,” said Rose as she realized what she was looking at: the Eiffel Tower, and boy, was it an eyeful of a tower. Tall and made of wrought iron, it looked like an arrow leading up to the heavens, the beams making it look like a ladder that led to the sky. “We’re going to be staying in Paris?”
“Not in Paris, but an estate slightly outside of the city limits, to give us some more privacy,” explained Thorne. “But we can come into the city whenever you want: a rented car is waiting at the estate. We can see whatever you want: the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, this city is your oyster, and I’m here to help you shuck it.”
“Thorne...this is perfect, I feel just like a fairytale princess,” said Rose, wiping a tear from my eye. “I can’t believe I’m actually in the City of Love with you.”
“Babe, anywhere where I’m with you is a place filled with love and devotion,” said Thorne, wiping a tear from Rose’s eye as he leaned forward to kiss her, hundreds of feet above the city of love, the city of lights, the city of dreams.
...and they lived happily ever after...
Sneak Peek: Sleeping BBW And The Billionaire Bear
Men never walked into Spinning A Yarn. Never.
Okay, that wasn’t true. Ever so often, someone would wander in to the knitting store to ask if they could use the bathroom. But no man had actually ever gone and looked through the stacks of yarn, until the day that he walked in.
Tall. Dark. Handsome. Port Jameson was crawling with men like him physically. What they didn’t have? Men who wore what he wore and drove what he drove, men in tailored suits with luxury cars parked on the street outside the knitting store. The man palmed a ball of yarn and looked at the price tag. It was the nice stuff that had sat on the shelves for years.
Talia had sold only a few of the expensive skeins of yarn in her life, most of the goods being sold online to specialty buyers around the country. Spinning A Yarn had a special relationship with the various farms in the area, and farmer brought their best yarn to the store, from the sheep farms down in Oregon to the alpaca farmers who had moved out East, to Vermont, who still sent their goods back to the Pacific Northwest.
Right now, Talia wasn’t worried about making a sale, or, more realistically, about the yarn getting greasy from people touching it. No...she was trying as discreetly as she could to check out the big man in the corner and figure out what kind of a shifter he was. He was tall and had dark brown hair, with green eyes which shone like gems, but that wasn’t helping her figure out what kind of animal the man was.
“He’s a bear shifter, you know,” said Aunt Helen, putting her elbows down on the counter next to Talia.
“How can you tell?” asked Talia.
“The paw marks, dummy. You’ve lived here long enough to know that, right?” asked Aunt Helen.
“Only the last what, twenty-four years of my life,” said Talia sarcastically.
“I guess you were distracted by how handsome he is,” teased Aunt Helen. Talia blushed, giving it away. “I knew it! You should go and talk to him!”
“About what?” asked Talia.
“I don’t care, as long as you make the sale,” said Aunt Bertha, coming up from behind and readjusting the sign on the counter listing the credit card policy.
The man turned. He looked over Talia from head to toe: even though Talia was wearing a big baggy sweater and jeans, the way that her green apron was tied accentuated her curves drove him wild. They didn’t get many women like her where he was from.
“He’s looking at you: go get him,” said Aunt Helen.
“Make a sale,” said Aunt Bertha.
“Fine, fine,” said Talia, walking over to the tall man. She hoped she wasn’t blushing.
The man smiled as he saw the curvy woman walk towards him. “Hey,” he said, noticing the natural pink in her cheeks, which made him smile wider.
“Hey,” said Talia. “My name’s Talia. Can I help you find anything today?”
“In fact, that’d be great, Talia,” said the man, putting down the yarn. “I don’t know anything about this stuff.”
“Ah, so you’re not a huge knitter?” joked Talia. “I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”
The man was thrown for a loop: there weren’t any women he’d met who didn’t know who he was. Just ten minutes ago, in a café, he’d been approached and asked for an autograph by a barista. “My name’s Cedar,” said the man, shaking Talia’s hand. “I’m not a knitter at all, but I’m looking for a gift for someone extra special.”
The man’s grip was firm and Talia could feel the pads on his hands, the markers of a shifter. The pads, dark brown, marked him a grizzly shifter, and were found on the palm of his hand and on his finger tips. “Is it for a girlfriend?” asked Talia, noticing that the man wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend...this is for someone very, very special, my grandma,” explained Cedar. Being close up to Talia, he felt extra tall: she wasn’t in heels like most women up in the city, and from his perspective, he could see just how ample her curves really were. “She’s got a birthday coming up and I wanted to get her something nice.”
“Oh, cool, my birthday’s next week,” said Talia. “Well, what sort of things does your grandma like to knit?”
“My other siblings are all married, so right now, she’s been making a lot of baby clothes,” said Cedar.
“Well...babies grow out of baby clothes really fast. Is cost a concern?” asked Talia.
“Not at all: I want all my nieces and nephews clad in only the finest wool, “ said Cedar. He still couldn’t believe that Talia had no idea who he was. He’d come down to Port Jameson to get away from all the women in Seattle...he’d never thought he’d want a woman so badly on his self-imposed hiatus from dating.
“If you want to go all out, you could get your grandmother some angora wool, or some cashmere yarn” said Talia. “In fact, we have it in a really thick weight, so what we could do is make a kit for your grandma.”
“A kit?” asked Cedar.
“Yeah, with needles, a book, and yarn,” explained Talia. “We even have a gift wrapping service.”
“That’d be perfect,” said Cedar. “What do you have in mind?”
“Hmm,” said Talia aloud, going through the shelves and finding the heavyweight cashmere yarn. The yarn was very thick, about the thickness of her fingers, but soft. “First of all, do you like the way these feels?”
She held the yarn out like a small baby bunny and Cedar pet the yarn, pressing his fingers i
nto it for a second, before pulling them out. Almost touching the tall man again made her turn pink again and she thought about yarn instead to get herself to calm down. It was never like her to show her emotions on her sleeve like this.
“Wow, this is really nice,” said Cedar. “This is perfect for blankets. What colors does it come in?”
“We have it in nice shades of baby pink and sky blue, which would be perfect for kids, or nice yellows, if your grandma wanted to make something that could suit either gender,” said Talia. “We could also find something else that’s neutral and nontraditional.”
“No, traditional is perfect,” said Cedar. “I’ll take the baby pink and the sky blue, and heck, the yellow cashmere too.”
“How many skeins do you want?” asked Talia.
“How many will I need?” asked Cedar
“Well...how many babies are your siblings expecting?” asked Talia.
“There’s eight kids coming,” said Cedar.
“You have eight siblings?” asked Talia.
“No...three,” said Cedar. He took a discreet look at Talia’s hand: no engagement or wedding ring. It was rare to find a woman as curvy as her that hadn’t already been snatched up. She probably had a boyfriend...but there was no harm in trying to steal a date. “There’s a set of twins, and two sets of triplets.”
“Oh, right, bear shifters, duh,” said Talia. “I forgot bears had big...batches. Your grandma will need ten skeins per blanket, so...wow, she’s going to need eighty skeins.”
“Do you have that many?” asked Cedar.
“No...but we can do a delivery for your grandma,” said Talia. “We can do a special delivery and include free shipping in a case like this.”
“Thank you so much,” said Cedar. “Do we need anything else?”
“Well...have you ever seen a home-made blanket in your grandma’s house? One you know your grandma made?” asked Talia.