Her Russian Bears

by Sinclair, Ava

  “While I know you both to be good men, and accept that you’re of a kind I never knew existed, I’m also afraid. I keep seeing Viktor changing. It was so horrible, so monstrous.”

  “Viktor’s anger makes it so,” Mikhail said. “Anger makes monsters of men who cannot change.”

  She turned back, her voice shaking as she addressed her lovers. “I want to see,” she said. “I want to see for myself. I have to.”

  “Jordan, what you ask…” Mikhail walked over to her.

  “It’s reasonable,” Ivan said. “If we are to ask her to stay, she needs to know all. It may be that she’d rather risk danger there if she cannot handle the truth of what we are.”

  “We could not protect her there,” Mikhail said.

  “No,” Ivan agreed. “But she needs the choice.”

  “He’s right,” Jordan said. “I understand why you want me here, Mikhail. And I know it’s deeper than the need for a mate to help you keep control. I’m slowly getting to know you guys. In the past weeks you’ve done all you can to make me comfortable—favorite foods, new clothes. Ivan has even talked to me about my using my degree to help him with research. And I’ll need that, if I stay. I’ll never be content to just stay here in this house. I want to use my mind.

  “But,” she continued. “I have to know whether I can handle the reality of what you are. Living with the idea of it won’t be enough.”

  Mikhail looked over at Ivan.

  “Tomorrow?” he said.

  His cousin nodded, and Jordan could see the worry in their eyes.

  * * *

  Jordan didn’t sleep much the rest of the night, but as dawn broke through the windows, she wasn’t tired. She could feel the nervousness, the adrenaline. What happened today would determine what decision she made. She knew that the rest of her life would have an element of danger no matter what she’d done. Her decision to take the assignment had changed everything.

  But it made her feel empowered to force the moment she was dreading. The men could have denied her. But they didn’t. She knew she’d be the only outsider to witness a shift and live. Mikhail and Ivan obviously trusted her.

  Mikhail had found jeans in her size. She donned a pair along with some knee-high, fur-lined boots he’d gotten her, and topped it off with a soft blue sweater and scarf. It had grown warmer outside. From the window, she could see the men were already in the garden below, waiting. She wondered if they’d slept.

  She stopped in the kitchen for an apple and a muffin, needing something in her stomach and needing to delay the inevitable. The housekeeper walked over, said something to her in Russian, and pressed something hard and cool into her palm before closing Jordan’s fingers over it.

  Jordan looked down. It was a small, bear-shaped fetish. She wondered what the woman had said, and decided she’d have to learn Russian.

  If she stayed.

  So much hinged on this moment. She held the little bear in her hand and walked out the back door into the sunlight.

  The men walked over to her, hugging her wordlessly. Their bodies were warm, their arms strong. Bear hugs , she thought, but what should have been funny made her want to cry.

  “I’m ready,” she said, and the men stepped back.

  They began to undress, pulling shirts off to reveal chiseled chests and brawny arms, slim waists and tight buttocks and powerful legs. The cocks that had pleasured her hung lazily between their legs.

  When they were naked, they looked at each other. Mikhail nodded at Ivan, who stepped to the side and lowered his head as if meditating. For a moment, Jordan wondered if anything was going to happen. Then his shoulders rose, as if he were loosening them. But he wasn’t. They kept rising, and she realized his spine was, too. A hump—a prominent feature of brown bears—was forming behind his head, the weight of it pushing him forward. He fell to the ground, and his skin grew dark. Then she realized it wasn’t his skin, but hairs pushing through as his body pulsed and swelled, his head widening as his ears—like Viktor’s—moved to the top of his massive head. At the same time, she noticed that Mikhail had started to change, his transformation mirroring Ivan’s.

  All vestiges of humanity were gone from their forms now as chests broadened and massive paws replaced hands. The girth increased, and Jordan found herself staring at the bear she’d seen in the photos—the largest bear she’d ever seen. She remembered the shot of its mouth open in a threat display as the man in the chair shrank from it in terror, and for a moment she felt fear.

  But then the huge bear raised its head, and she looked into its eyes and saw the humanity, the recognition.

  “Oh, my god…” The primal part of Jordan screamed for her to run, but instead she found herself walking toward the animals, who made gentle, rumbling noises as they lumbered over to her. She reached out, pushing her hand into the fur of one and then the other, amazed that even on all fours they were taller at the shoulder than she was. They were letting her examine them in a way most scientists could only dream of. She put her hand under Ivan’s chin and raised his head. He opened his mouth and she ran her finger down a long tooth, shuddering a bit as she imagined how awful it would be to be attacked.

  Beside her, Mikhail had flopped down on his bottom, looking comical as he rested his massive paws on his back legs and sat like a human. She walked over, looking up at him and he reached out, pulling her into his grasp. She squealed, then laughed as he rolled over backwards. She stretched out on his massive belly, feeling the sun-warmed fur beneath her face. He smelled of wood and earth and a strange musk.

  Beside them, Ivan stood, casting a massive shadow across the ground. She reached out, took his paw, put her hand across his paw pads. The paw dwarfed her hand; brown bears had been major predators since prehistoric times, and had changed very little.

  She climbed off of Mikhail and the bears flanked her on either side as she began to walk, and she was reminded of the day they’d flanked her while walking down to the place where Viktor was kept. She could feel their power then as now. Even then she’d felt them to be unlike any men she’d ever met, different somehow.

  But this… this was beyond anything she’d ever imagined. And she wasn’t afraid, not at all. It felt magical somehow, knowing that inside these huge beasts were two intriguing men she was coming to deeply care for, and that when they changed back, the gentle, noble beasts from time immemorial were still there as well.

  They walked so close to her that their fur brushed her as they walked through the woods. She watched as they turned over rocks, rubbed against trees, tore into rotten logs with their massive claws. Above them, birds and squirrels scolded from the safety of the upper branches, although Jordan couldn’t be sure if it was their presence or hers that offended them. They walked down to a stream, and she sat on a rock as they waded in, slapping the water. A silvery fish flew in her direction, flopping around on the rock. Ivan galloped through the water, grabbing it off the rock. She watched, fascinated, as he held it with his paws and bit down on it. The fish flopped in its jaws, its tail slapping Ivan on the side of the head before going limp. He turned his attention to his meal then, biting off chunks and swallowing them whole before discarding the spine, head, and tail in the swirling waters. Mikhail was gorging himself as well, and afterwards the two bears chased one another around in the stream, splashing Jordan as they went past. But she didn’t care. She could not stop smiling at them, could not believe how fortunate she felt to be included on this private side of their existence.

  But she knew the moment would come to an end. The bears had climbed from the stream and shook themselves in the sunlight. Mikhail came over to her, snuffling her face with his huge leathery nose. Jordan scratched his ears and he groaned like a happy puppy.

  The walk back was leisurely. Sun slanted through the trees and the scary patch of forest now seemed ethereal with the bears shambling at her side. In the meadow below the house, she watched as the bears transformed back into the men.

  She waited for them to
say something, but they said nothing, only smiled. And she smiled, too, realizing that the moment needed no words. And she knew what would happen next. They pulled on their pants but not their shirts. Those they tossed over their shoulders. Each man took her by a hand as they made their way back to the house, back upstairs to her bedroom.

  Her heart was pounding as she took the little fetish from her pocket and put it on the bedside table.

  And suddenly she was nervous, more nervous than she’d been with the two huge bears in the woods. Back in their human forms, Mikhail and Ivan wordlessly shed their pants and walked over to where she stood, fully clothed.

  “You are okay?” Ivan asked.

  She found herself smiling as she nodded, her gaze moving from one handsome face to the next. “Yeah,” she said, then sighed with happy relief. “Yeah.”

  “Then we are all okay?” Ivan spoke now, his hand on her shoulder as a finger trailed down the middle of her sweater, the point of it skimming a line between her breasts, and lower still until it came to rest just level with the waistband of her blue jeans.

  “Yeah. We’re all okay.” Her voice was husky with need, the nearness of the men awakening something wild in her.

  Ivan’s hand moved to her lower back, then further down to cup her bottom through her blue jeans. Mikhail’s moved lower as well, down to her leg. He felt it travel up until his touch stopped at the top of her thigh, achingly close to her sex. Jordan felt her pussy begin to throb, as if her pulse had condensed itself there. He moved his finger up just enough to brush the top of her mons through the denim, the move light and teasing. It didn’t help that heat pulsed from his hand, the warmth and light sensation of his touch working together to drive her crazy. She squirmed, squeezed her thighs together. Her panties, she knew, were already soaked. And the three of them hadn’t even gotten started.

  The three of them. A ménage. She’d always been so careful, but here she was with two gorgeous men, two dominant men. Individually, they’d both fucked her hard, fucked her until she was sore. And here was careful, conservative, professional Jordan Rowe wishing they’d just rip her clothes off already, rip them off and suck her tits and shove their cocks in her pussy.

  You’re the animal now , she thought.

  But they were taking it slow, their touches light and teasing. Mikhail’s finger was moving up and down the seam of her pussy through the blue jeans, the pressure just enough to make her whimper and squirm, while Ivan’s hands were under her shirt, his thumbs rolling her nipples.

  Her knees grew weak and Jordan felt herself fall against a hot, hard chest.

  “Please,” she moaned, reaching for one hand at her breast and the other at her sex. She pressed them both close to her body, her mouth slack, her breath coming in pants. “Please.”

  “Please what?” Mikhail’s words were exhaled into her ear—hot words that made her tremble.

  “Please.” She licked her lips, her pelvis moving in time to Mikhail’s hand, her chest arching toward Ivan’s. “Please fuck me.”

  “You want both?” Ivan asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. Both. Both.” She looked from the eyes of one man to the eyes of another, not caring that she was showing her vulnerability, her need. She’d never thought she needed anyone, but at that moment, Jordan was sure she may die if these men didn’t cover her with their strong hard bodies and fill the void she couldn’t explain even to herself.

  As if in response, Mikhail reached for the waistband of her jeans and pulled upward, the pressure of the denim pressing her clit as he grinned wickedly.

  “How wet are you, little one? And don’t lie, or I’ll spank you until you are ready to tell me the truth.”

  Oh, god.

  “I’m wet,” she said. “So wet.”

  He put his fingers to the juncture of her thighs and rubbed, hard. Then he raised them to her lips. “Taste.”

  Jordan flushed. She’d soaked her jeans, and was tasting her own essence that had leached through the denim.

  “Don’t tease me,” she said, tearing her head away. Need surged through her like a current, and they’d not even gotten her clothes off!

  Ivan was the first to show mercy. He reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head. Jordan held her breath, hoping she’d not have her only remaining bra ripped from her. But he expertly unclasped it and tossed it aside.

  The men moved her to the bed and Mikhail undid the snap on her jeans and dragged them down, pulled her boots off and then removed the jeans. Now she was only in her panties. The men stood back, leaving her on the bed alone.

  “Take them off,” Ivan said, his tone as commanding as Mikhail’s. Both men were sporting rock-hard erections, which they palmed almost absentmindedly as she complied with the order.

  “Spread your legs,” Mikhail said, and Jordan did, flushing as she looked at them from between her thighs.

  “Her pussy is so swollen, so wet.” Ivan smiled.

  Mikhail nodded to his cousin, said something in Russian. Ivan looked surprised and smiled. Jordan felt embarrassed that they were obviously discussing her, but also a bit turned on. She’d never taken herself for an exhibitionist, but being observed and discussed sent a surge of unexpected arousal coursing through her pelvis.

  “Touch yourself,” Mikhail said.

  “Now?” She flushed again.

  “We will watch. Do it.”

  Her need was so great that it was almost a relief. She threw her head back and closed her eyes.

  “No. Look at us while you do it,” Mikhail said.

  She forced herself to look. The two cousins were already working their long cocks, the ridged veins prominent along the turgid shafts, the heads thick and purple.

  Her own fingers circled her clit, moved up and down over the slick folds. She looked at them, imagining their hard bodies pressing her into the mattress, the helplessness she would feel. She was close to coming, but before she could, Ivan was on the bed, kneeling between her legs. He put two fingers into her pussy, curled them upward, pressing into her G-spot. The feeling was so intense that she started to pull away, but his other hand dug into the soft hollow by her hipbone, holding her. He began to move the fingers in her pussy as his other finger grazed her clit.

  She saw stars. There was no other word for it. The first orgasm with the two of them had her bucking wildly and flooding his hand. And she realized then that Mikhail had been telling Ivan about her rather unusual response to such stimulation.

  Jordan was still shuddering when the huge head went between her legs, his hands spreading them wide and positioning them over his shoulders. She felt herself sinking into the pleasure, gasping from it, overwhelmed. A sharp sensation brought her back. Mikhail had joined them, his mouth capturing her nipple and suckling as below, Ivan stabbed at her clit with the spear point of his tongue.

  She came again, her back arching, her toes curling, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the heated skin of her lovers.

  They drew back again, leaving a shuddering ache where their touch had been.

  “Up on all fours,” Mikhail said, turning her over. He slapped her ass. “I want that bottom in the air.”

  The lewdness of his words both embarrassed and thrilled her. Jordan obeyed, moving to her hands and knees.

  “Head down,” Ivan said.

  “She has nice asshole,” he said in English, and Jordan moaned, realizing he’d wanted her to hear. “Tight.”

  “Do you hear that, Jordan Rowe?” Mikhail asked. “My cousin thinks you have a nice asshole. I agree. He can make you come there, if you ask him nicely.”

  This was a new line for Jordan. She looked back. “No. I…”

  A searing pain cut her off. Ivan had smacked her bottom, the heated sting suffusing her skin. She squealed, hurt.

  “Ask nicely,” he said.

  Her cheeks were spread, the cool air of the room caressing the orifice in question. Her face flamed with heat.

  “Please,” she said, looking back.
“Can you pleasure me… there.”

  “Gladly.” Ivan took position behind her. She felt his fingers skimming dew from her slit, felt him rim her bottom hole with the slickness her body had produced. He brought his mouth to her bottom, biting first one buttock then the other, then pressed his tongue against her tight rosebud. She cried out, mortified that he was tongue-fucking her bottom hole, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she could do little more than endure and then… to her horror… enjoy it. She’d heard that the anal opening was a trove of nerve endings, but beyond some brief play she’d never had a man do anything like this.

  She came again, as much from the taboo as from anything else, from the delicious sensation of being made to be this wanton, this dirty, this… feral. She realized nothing was off limits to these men.

  And then it happened. A cock pushed into her, hard, so hard that it took her breath away. It was Mikhail. He was behind her and pulling her up so that her back was against his chest. And Ivan was in front, his teeth scoring her nipples, sending excruciating flashes of pleasure-pain from the tortured peaks to the pussy his cousin was pounding.

  Harder. Harder. Harder. She felt as if all the sensations were merging into one whirlpool of pleasure. Ivan had put a finger in her mouth, and she suckled it as she watched him stroke his cock. She could feel Mikhail’s balls hitting her, could feel them growing tighter, could feel him starting to tense. Both men came at once, Mikhail in her pussy and Ivan all over her tits. Their milky spray was hot and effusive, and she rubbed Ivan’s into her skin, wanting to bathe in the musky warmth, to be baptized into their world.

  “Ya lyublyu tebya ,” they murmured.

  Her head fell back, her heavily lidded eyes seeking to focus on the handsome faces. “What does that mean?”