Shifter Wonderland: Twelve BBW Paranormal Holiday Shape Shifter Romances

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Shifter Wonderland: Twelve BBW Paranormal Holiday Shape Shifter Romances Page 7

by Christin Lovell


  She licked her lips, further teasing me. Her presence alone was a damn cock tease. “Yeah?”

  “Can I owe you two wonderful, proper dates so I can take you home right now and wonderfully, properly claim your beautiful self?” Nerves knit in my stomach, slithering up to my chest.

  “Only if you promise to give me an O.” She pursed her lips, slitting her gaze.

  “An O?” I studied her, waiting anxiously to discover if it was something I could give to her. Hell, right about now, I’d swim across the fucking Atlantic Ocean to own her heart, body and soul forever.

  Her eyes lit with mischief. “An orgasm.” She smirked.

  Relief washed through me. That I could definitely and would happily give her every damn time. “Hell, babe, I’ll give you three.”

  Her giggle went straight to my heart. “I’ll be counting.” She spun on her heels.

  Fuck. That tiny bit of sass told me this was going to be the best sex I ever had, even if I didn’t come. Merry fucking Christmas to me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  December 24th

  Lora

  Dropping my bags on the floor, he scooped me up into his arms and made a beeline for his bedroom.

  I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck. Leaning in, I stole several kisses before he laid me down in the center of the bed. I laughed as he growled playfully, leaping on the bed and covering me.

  He peppered my face with kisses. “You are so damn cute.” Sitting back on his heels, he pulled off my boots. Licking his lips, he openly stared at me.

  One by one, he began to remove my layers, feathering kisses over my flesh as he did so, until I was naked and he was still clothed. Sitting back on his heels again, his gaze roamed me. He didn’t bother to hide the heat in his depths, proof that he truly wanted every inch of me. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” The reverence in his tone had my chest constricting, had emotion welling within it.

  Bending forward, he drew his lips along the fullness of my thigh, across the span of my hips and down my other thigh.

  Biting my bottom lip, I tensed as he hovered over my apex. Only one other man had gone down on me, and it was less than memorable or enjoyable.

  Abruptly, he leapt off of the bed and hauled my ass to the edge of it. Wrapping his arms around my thighs, using his shoulders to force my legs towards my chest, he peered up at me. “Get ready to count.”

  I gasped as his fingers parted my lower lips and his tongue connected with my clit. Pleasure flickered through my core, sending waves tingling outwards.

  Languidly, he tasted and teased me. The moment I knew what to expect, he changed it up, increasing his pressure, manipulating his speed, alternating his approach, adding another element of surprise.

  Before long, he had me wriggling, bowing into his every touch, unashamedly begging for more.

  Pressure bound my limbs. Need knotted in my womb, had me straining, whimpering, for more. My nipples were tight peaks, begging for attention. My pussy was a wet mess, longing dripping from me as he carried me to the edge and threw me over.

  Grabbing his forearms for leverage, I cried out, pleasure assaulting me. Shudder after shudder of delicious sensations swept through me, had me gasping for air, had me pressing into his caress, had satisfaction warming my curves even as fresh longing bloomed, for him, for more of whatever he was offering.

  Dragging his tongue along my slit once more, his mouth departed me. A devilish gleam appeared in his depths. “Count,” he commanded.

  Oh, God. Novel flutters tickled my pussy. The authority in his tone, the unyielding demand of his word had me ready to do whatever he asked and then some. “One.”

  Drawing a finger down my sopping slit, he pressed a hand behind one knee, pushing my leg back, spreading me further, baring more of me to him. He made it clear that there would be no hiding from him.

  My lips parted around a moan as he shoved two fingers inside me, pausing once they were all the way inside me. Lowering himself again, this time, he closed his mouth over my breast. Without warning, he nipped and sucked one turgid tip while thoroughly, furiously fucking me with his fingers.

  My cries reached new volumes as he drowned my plush figure with a different type of pleasure. Just when the pleasure was ebbing, about to be smothered by the pressure of my need, he switched breasts and rubbed the pad of his thumb along the spine of my clit.

  All of me clenched, constricted, preparing for the inevitable. I dug my nails into his arm, my other hand holding his head to my chest. “Fuck, babe.” I groaned, arching into him. I swore my body was going to split down the center, my yearning reaching new heights as he relentlessly commanded my curves.

  I found myself holding my breath, my pleas broken weeps of desperation as all of me knotted. Stressing, stretching, shoving into him, I threw my head back, overcome and yet needing more.

  Then he added another finger, filling me completely, pushing me over the edge again.

  “Oh, fuck!” Pleasure cascaded through me, the intensity of it twice what it was the last time, my nerve endings still hypersensitive. My pulse pounded in my ears, my vision blurring at the edges. My voice was hoarse as all of me was flooded with relief, with powerful, beautiful sensations that required all of my energy yet replenished it somehow. Tingles prickled every pore, awareness amplifying my senses, my response to every caress and stroke.

  He slowed, gradually bringing me down from my high. Heaviness settled into my limbs as he broke away. Quickly, he stripped and returned to me. With one, lithe move, he set me back in the center of the bed. Covering me, he aligned his prick at my entrance. He cocked a brow expectantly, holding still.

  I bit back a smile, feeling myself flush. “Two.”

  Balancing the weight of him on his elbows, he captured my lips. Gently, he rocked forward, pushing into my wet heat, slowly filling me.

  Lifting my legs, I curled them around him, crossing my ankles behind him, hauling him closer.

  We both groaned as he fully sunk into me. A wave of pleasure burst through my lower half, had my pussy pulsing.

  He exhaled heavily, pressing his forehead to mine. A shudder vibrated him. “Fuck, babe. You feel so fucking good.” His voice was laden with tension.

  Abruptly, he pulled out of me, retreating. He shook his head negatively. “I can’t do it. I’m not gonna last in that heavenly cocoon.” Damn, he was cute when he was flustered. “What do you want, beautiful? Fingers or mouth?”

  My heart warmed. “It’s okay. Two is more than I’ve ever had at one time.”

  “Nope.” He refuted my offer. “A promise is a promise, and I don’t ever plan on breaking one with you.” He met my gaze, ensuring his sincerity was received. He was every ounce of the amazing I dreamed of and then some. He was putting his own needs and wants aside to fulfill mine.

  There was nothing more I could ask for. “Surprise me.”

  He slit his gaze. He made it clear that I had just awoken the beast, a mischievous smirk appearing. “You get both.” Tenderly at first, he slid his fingers into my channel before lowering his head between my legs. He planted a kiss on the inside of each thigh. He looked straight at me as he dropped his lips to my apex. He took a few breaths, waiting, watching, letting my anticipation build before he darted his tongue out. No sooner had his tongue connected with my pearl than he set a ravenous pace with his fingers.

  Still hypersensitive, he sent me straight to the erotic peak.

  I sucked in a breath, my womb seeming to bind around itself. I felt one thrust short of splitting down the middle. The sheer force behind his touch had my curves shaking, had my muscles tensing, had me bowing and pleading. “Oh, God, babe.” I was surprised I didn’t tumble over within the first thirty seconds.

  My yearning continued to climb, to strain, to reach for that invisible cliff’s edge. He pushed me further than I’d ever been pushed before. Pleasure spread briefly before it was crushed, squashed by my need.

  Every inhale became sharper than the last. Every str
oke seemed to punch deeper into me, hitting novel erogenous zones each time. Every sweep of his tongue over my clit, around my sensitive bundle of nerve endings, had me on the verge of shattering.

  Until I shattered into a million pieces.

  My vision blurred, my heart pounded, my pulse thundered, my limbs trembled, my pussy pulsated, my curves quivered as wave after wave of pleasure stunned every inch of me. I didn’t recognize my own voice. I never knew the heights of intensity my pleasure could reach. Liquid heat oozed from me as rush after rush of eroticism washed through me.

  Until the room began to spin. Until I was forced to lie back flat. Until every ounce of energy I had remaining was stolen.

  Blinking, he slowly came into focus. Concern creased his brow. “You okay, babe?”

  I couldn’t tell if I was nodding my head or not so I replied, “Perfect.” It came out as a mumble, though.

  An amused grin split his face. “I think next time we’ll stick with two.” He winked at me. Swiftly, he stole a kiss.

  “Three.” This time the word was audible.

  Angling back, he assessed me, his features turning down. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  The longer I lay there, the calmer my body became. I was touched by his worry, though. It proved the depths of his feelings for me, was evidence of his compassionate heart.

  Reaching for him, I jerked him against me. “It’s time for you to count, handsome.” I pressed my lips to his, giving him a chaste, emphatic kiss.

  He grunted. “Give me that backside and I’ll be at one in less than two minutes.”

  “Okay.” Shoving at his chest, I prompted him to move, giving me space to roll over. Arching my back, I presented him with exactly what he wanted.

  “Damn, babe.” He ran his hands over my large globes and around to my hips. “I’ve wanted to bend you over ever since I saw your ass in person.”

  Before I could reply, he drove into me, cutting off my thoughts. He didn’t hold back. He plunged into me over and over, faster and faster, harder and harder, deeper and deeper, causing pleasure to burst through me all over again, causing cries to erupt from me. He had me fisting the sheets, the pillows, anything I could grab.

  Dropping onto his hands, his muscled arms framing me, his body imprisoning me in the most delicious way, he never lost his rhythm, even as he draped my hair over one shoulder. His harsh breaths tickled my ear.

  Suddenly he tensed. “Oh, fuck, babe.” Pleasure and torture unified in his voice as his heat coated my channel.

  I winced as a sharp pain shot through the tendon between my neck and shoulder.

  Gradually coming to a halt, he peppered my back and shoulders with kisses. “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

  I startled as his lips came close to his mark.

  “Lay down, babe. I’ll be right back.” He kissed my head this time.

  It wasn’t unbearable; I just wasn’t prepared for it. I knew it was coming. We’d talked about the claiming process before I knew he ever would claim me, but, for some reason, I didn’t think it would hurt like this. They always masked the pain in fiction.

  His warmth disappeared, and I lowered flat on my stomach, breathing through each pulsing throb. If I had been thinking straight, I should have taken some ibuprofen ahead of time. A minute later, I moaned, relief spreading through my neck and shoulder as the steaming hot, wet cloth soothed the enflamed region. The puncture marks stung briefly, but mostly I felt relief. Another warm rag was pressed between my legs. “You are amazing.” I moaned, relaxing into the bed.

  He kissed the outer edge of my shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

  Closing my eyes, I smiled, satisfaction slithering through me, seducing me into dreamland. “I love you.” Exhaustion jumbled my thoughts, clouding my mind, weighting my limbs.

  “I love you, too, beautiful.” The heat at my apex vanished. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

  I felt his lips touch my forehead right before I succumbed to sleep. I didn’t need to dream about my perfect man anymore, though. I had him, just in time for Christmas, too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  December 25th

  Stone

  There was no better feeling than sleeping with her in my arms all night and waking up to her natural beauty in the morning.

  My gaze instantly went to her mark. Pride pumped through me at the sight of it. She was mine.

  My bear roared, scratching at my insides.

  I chuckled softly, rectifying my thoughts. She was all ours.

  Thinking about my bear as an individual, her remark did make sense. I should give him a name. I didn’t know why I hadn’t before now. It seemed like common sense.

  Damn, she was something else. I looked forward to all of her pieces of wisdom. I looked forward to all the memories we would make together. I looked forward. That was the amazing.

  She gave me something to look forward to every day, even if it was just spending every minute I could with her. She was the best damned present I’d ever received, one that I planned to cherish always.

  When you waited thirty-five years for your prayers to be answered, it meant more. I was always told that the right person, the right woman, would be worth the wait.

  I never believed them. I didn’t believe that one woman, one person, could erase a lifetime of longing, a lifetime of loneliness, of knowing the pain of loneliness.

  But she did. One look at her and I couldn’t remember what it felt like to not have her, to not know her sweet curves, kind heart and beautiful spirit. It’s not that I forgot the pang my chest once felt; it’s that her presence ensured I would never know it again, therefore allowing me to move past it.

  She shifted in my arms, stretching. The way she peered at me through hooded lashes with sleep filled eyes had my heart skipping a beat. Her hair was a sexy mess. Her lips were still swollen from my kisses the night before. Her make-up had worn off, revealing the beauty beneath it. She was breathtaking; I could stare at her, just like this, all day.

  She curled around me, wrapping an arm around my waist, planting a kiss on my chest.

  I couldn’t contain my smile. “Good morning, beautiful.” Brushing her hair back, I kissed the top of her head. “Merry Christmas.”

  Angling to stare up at me, the sweetest smile curled her lips.

  My breath caught, my heart skipping a beat. I could just imagine the sunlight radiating off of her as she walked down the aisle towards me, towards our formal forever. Now that was definitely a day I looked forward to.

  “Merry Christmas, handsome.”

  Merry Christmas indeed. I hugged her to me, savoring the feel of every plush inch of her flesh against my own. I was content to lay like this forever with her.

  Or at least until Nate and Sharon arrived.

  The End

  About The Author

  USA Today bestselling author Christin Lovell was born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina, and currently resides in Orlando, Florida, with her three children, two dogs, and one overworked coffee maker. A hybrid author specializing in romance for the old and the young, she has written over forty titles to date, with many more in store. Body positive and confidence promoting, she empowers readers with her words, using her platform to have a progressive impact on those willing to read it. Not afraid to defy societal standards, she believes that every person is a character, every character has a story to share, and every story, no matter how gritty, deserves a good ending.

  Connect With Her Here

  www.christinlovell.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorchristinlovell

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/christinlovell OR @christinlovell

  Instagram: http://instagram.com/christinlovell

  Andre…By V. Vaughn

  When serious college student Nessa agrees to sing in her sister’s band she had no intention of getting involved with Andre, the impossibly tall, blond bass player that takes broody to a whole new level. But with the very first song they discover their v
oices are magic and Nessa falls hard when she find’s Andre’s touch is too. There’s only one problem - he’s not human.

  Andre knew Nessa was his true mate the first night they met. Reintroduced to the human world after years in the wild his communication skills are rusty, fortunately, his music is not. When Nessa helps him write the song of their hearts, they must decide if their love is more than beautiful music.

  Andre

  V. Vaughn

  Chapter One

  Nothing irritates me more than waiting. This stupid night-escort rule Bowdoin College put into place after Thanksgiving means I can’t walk back to my dorm in the dark without a security guard by my side. I got through the first week avoiding it, but tonight I was so wrapped up in my studies, I lost track of time. I gaze at the glowing blue light of the security phone. Those popped up everywhere over break too. Why isn’t that enough? We’re in freaking nowhere, Maine.

  I lower my shoulder and let my backpack fall to the concrete step with a loud thud. This semester is all about heavy books, and I rub my neck as I scan the area, looking for the guy who’s supposed to protect me. The night air is cool, and the light breeze blows loose strands of my hair in my face. I huff as I shove them out of the way. If he doesn’t get here soon, he’ll need someone to keep him safe.

  My feet thump as I begin to pace. I don’t have time for this. I need to get a good night’s sleep before my science lab tomorrow. It’s not my subject, and I’ll need every brain cell I’ve got. When I turn, I notice a large man walking toward me. I mutter, “Finally.” My bag strap cuts into my forearm when I lift it up and descend the stairs. When the guy gets to me, I hold my backpack out for him to take and say, “I’m going to Parkinson.”

  He doesn’t speak, and I glance up at his face. Whoa. Hello there. White-blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes are the shade of faded denim. He stares down at me for a moment before he begins to walk. The uniform he’s wearing fits poorly, and I imagine he’s got a killer body under the jacket that has too much material around the middle while the shoulders and arms are straining at the seams. But I don’t care, because he didn’t take my bag. Unbelievable. I’m beyond annoyed and say, “A little help here.”

 

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