Bear Mate: BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance

by Natalie Kristen

  Scowling, she advanced towards him. “Give me my panties.”

  “No.”

  Her eyes and mouth rounded when he stretched out his right hand and dangled her flimsy panties from his fingers. Looking straight at her, he moved that delicate garment very slowly and very deliberately towards...his mouth.

  “You wouldn't dare!” she breathed.

  He smiled almost dreamily. “It has your scent and your taste all over it.” He licked his lips. “I'm going to want more.” He stalked towards her, and she backed away, blinking rapidly.

  Blake's clothes had shredded from his body when he shifted into bear form. He was now completely naked, his arousal too huge and hard to be ignored. His blue eyes raked down her body in open admiration and desire. Jasynta walked backwards until she felt the edge of the table at her back.

  There was nowhere to go. And—she kicked up her chin and set her jaw, why should she be going anywhere?

  If he was going to indulge himself and let his eyes leer and ogle at her, she damn well deserved to have the same privilege.

  Jasynta dragged her gaze slowly and deliberately down his rugged, handsome face and let her eyes roam all over Blake's delectable, powerful body. She didn't bother hiding her appreciation of his delicious, masculine physique that was all powerful lines and angles. She took her time, giving her eyes a workout and a treat at the same time. Ah, if only there was such a program for her body. Getting a healthy workout and indulging in a sinful treat all at one go.

  Hmmm, maybe she could come up with such a potion.

  Her tongue darted out as her eyes shamelessly and greedily devoured every manly, muscled inch of Blake. As he tensed under her gaze, the muscles in his legs flexed and rippled, and his tight buns became even tighter, if that was even possible.

  His broad shoulders flowed beautifully down to his hard, bulging biceps, and his arms were strong and masculine. So was his face, which was boyishly handsome. His short blond hair was standing up in spikes, thanks to her raking through it as he gave her the most quaking, intense orgasm.

  “Jasynta,” Blake said hoarsely. “You have to stop this.”

  “Stop what?” she asked, giving him her most innocent, wide-eyed look.

  “Stop stroking me with your eyes, and tormenting me with your scent,” he gritted out.

  “My...” Oh, he could scent her arousal. She could act all nonchalant and innocent, but her scent gave the game away.

  She huffed to hide her embarrassment. “You have something that belongs to me,” she said indignantly.

  At that, he smirked. “You mean these?” He raised his hand, allowing her a glimpse of silk peeking from his large fist.

  She tilted her face to look up, and in that instant, he lowered his mouth to hers, taking her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips parted as she gasped at her own rising hunger. Her tongue tangled with his and swept past his lips to taste more of him. He tasted sweet, and hot.

  With one last, hard kiss, Blake released her suddenly, leaving her panting and blinking in his wake. He strode to the door and looked back to catch her openly drooling at his rock hard body and bulging muscles. Jasynta managed to stop gawking and close her mouth, just as Blake shifted quietly and fluidly into bear form at the door. His shape changed, but not his eyes, which remained the same shade of blue and kept holding hers even through his body's transformation.

  Jasynta blinked and allowed her eyes to slide down the vast expanse of beautiful blond fur that covered his massive body. Her hungry eyes skidded to a stop at his right paw. His jig was up. Her knickers which had been so carefully concealed in his huge fist was now hanging by its frilly lace edges from his claws.

  Her mouth twitched as her eyes widened just a fraction. Her reaction made him tear his eyes away from hers to glance down.

  When he saw her delicate undies hanging precariously from his lethal claws, he reared up immediately and raised his paw in an attempt to hide his precious loot behind his back. But his forepaws were no longer quick human hands, and all he managed to do was wave his paws to and fro, making her panties flutter in the air like a white flag.

  Jasynta stuffed a fist into her mouth to stop from chortling.

  Before her was a growling grizzly bear waving a white flag in surrender, with a look of utter mortification and frustration on his furry face.

  Blake stopped flailing and stared at her, and with a grunt, mirrored her action.

  He raised his paw to his mouth—and before she could stop him, stuffed her panties right into his huge, gaping mouth!

  Jasynta gasped and rushed forward, but Blake simply clamped his mouth tightly shut, holding his treasure securely in his mouth.

  “Hey! Spit them out!” she yelled. “I can't believe you just...ate my panties! Give them back!” She pummeled his shoulder, but the bear simply grunted contentedly at her.

  Oh, the gall of him!

  She kicked him in the leg, but it was like kicking a pillar. “Ow, ow, ouch!” Jasynta hopped and hobbled around on one foot, and attempted to command in her sternest, most serious voice. But it was hard to look and sound serious while hopping up and down on the spot and yowling.

  “You will not eat...” she huffed, and narrowed her eyes at him when he chuffed loudly. “What was that? Did you just say eat my shorts?”

  The bear padded smugly to the door, and made a noise like a laugh.

  “You wouldn't dare!”

  She watched open-mouthed as he eased out the door, and turned his head briefly over his shoulder on his way out.

  Did he...did he just wink at her?

  He who taketh it off, taketh it home, no?

  No. He didn't.

  He wouldn't.

  He wouldn't dare!

  She ran to the door but Blake was gone.

  The big bad bear had gamboled down the maze of corridors with her underwear.

  She fought down the smile which was tugging at the corner of her lips. Nope, she wasn't amused. She was annoyed. Yes, very annoyed. That bear needed to be taught a lesson.

  But she didn't have the energy to discipline a wayward bear right now. She didn't even have the energy to discipline her own eyes and mind to work right. She was seeing funny, and walking funny. Wincing at the slight ache in her thighs as she moved, she realized with a blush that the ache in her thigh muscles wasn't from working too hard at her spells. It was from spreading her legs so wide to accommodate Blake's broad, muscular frame between her legs. The man was big, and—she had to wonder how it would feel to be taken, claimed and filled completely by him.

  The heat speared up her face and she swallowed hard. Just the thought of him surging hard into her soft, melting body made her breath hitch and her pulse increase. She blew out a sharp breath and fanned herself wildly with her hands. Cool down, girl, you need to get home and have a long, cold shower. And get your head up from the gutter and back on your shoulders.

  Hurriedly, she straightened up her things on the long table, pushing her books into orderly stacks and lining the vials and beakers up neatly. Once her work table was in order, she smoothed her hands down her dress, straightening out the creases and retied her hair quickly into a tight ponytail. She took a steadying breath and soothed her palms over her creased dress. She really, really hoped that she wouldn't run into anybody on her way out. Especially Lucas and Dax. All shifters had a very keen sense of smell, and she was pretty certain that Lucas and Dax would have caught her scent even under all that bristling fur.

  Jasynta bit her lip and grimaced. They were both gentlemen and she trusted their discretion, but she just wasn't in a state to face them right now. She just wanted to slink home without anyone seeing her, and giving her a knowing smile and a wink.

  After checking herself for the umpteenth time, she was finally satisfied that she didn't look like she just had a tumble on the conference room table with a big, bad bear, and that she looked decent enough even if her panties were missing. Quickly, she grabbed her coat and strode out the conference r
oom, closing the door soundlessly behind her.

  As she passed the reception counter, she smiled at the security guard on duty, who was doubling up as receptionist for the night. Neelith, a young demoness, who always wore magenta lipstick to match her eyes and favored deep, plunging necklines to show off the shimmering scales on her bosom, was the daytime receptionist. But after midnight, the PAC Headquarters was relatively quiet and old Stanley, the night guard, would double up as receptionist.

  “Goodnight, Miss Morgan.” Stanley tipped his head politely as she passed.

  “Goodnight, Stanley,” Jasynta smiled at the old vampire. “Oh, if you see Blake, can you tell him that I've left for the night?” she said, keeping her voice casual.

  Stanley nodded. “Sure, Miss Morgan. You get home safe now.”

  Jasynta pushed through the heavy glass revolving doors, and stepped out into the night air. Rubbing her arms against the chill, she walked as briskly as she could, muttering a 'Get Home Quick' spell under her breath.

  The streets around her spun and zoomed by in a blur as she walked. In less than a minute, she was walking up the street to her house. The white picket fence came into view and she smiled, as she pushed through the creaking white gate that was overgrown with roses of all colors.

  Her mother, Anita, loved experimenting with all sorts of “Quick Grow” spells, and their garden was a riot of blooms and herbs.

  As she walked up the front steps of their double-storey cottage, she heard angry male voices and froze.

  Her coven was her family and it was just the four of them—Jasynta, her mother, her grandmother, Lucinda, and her younger sister Melynda. There were no male members in their coven, and in their house.

  So why were there angry, strident male voices coming from the house at this time of night?

  She heard her mother's firm voice through the window and her sister's hysterical shrieks.

  The living room curtain fluttered and through the gap, Jasynta glimpsed three cloaked figures standing in the living room. Her eyes widened when she saw the tip of a wand poking out from under a cloak.

  Warlocks.

  What were warlocks doing in their house?

  An argument was taking place between her sister and one of the warlocks, and from the sounds of it, it was fast escalating into a full-blown shouting match.

  A shouting match that was about to get downright ugly.

  A spark zapped from the window, and Jasynta ducked just in time.

  The neon green spark hurtled out of the window and smashed into her mother's silver rose bush. Instantly, the silver roses turned black and the leaves sprouted jagged, snapping teeth.

  Jasynta gasped. Anita was going to be so mad.

  Nobody messed with her mother's garden. Whoever had thrown that spark was going to regret it, big time.

  The lights in the house flickered as lightning bolts were thrown from her living room.

  This was aggressive, combat magick.

  Jasynta whirled round. The nerve of these warlocks, coming into their home and throwing their violent magick around!

  Curling her fingers, she invoked a crackling grenade of pure energy in her palm and prepared to lob it as she raced up the last few steps to the front door.

  If her living room had turned into a war zone, then she was going in armed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jasynta burst into the house just in time to see a streak of purple lightning fly across the hall. The bolt of purple lightning was headed straight for her grandmother, who was calmly knitting in her rocking chair. Jasynta charged in, aiming her devastating grenade at the warlock in the middle.

  “Gran!”

  Lucinda looked up from her knitting at Jasynta's yell.

  Instead of dodging, Lucinda simply raised her knitting needles. She pointed one needle at the flying energy grenade and waved the other needle around in a circle. As a string of spells tumbled from Lucinda's lips, Jasynta's grenade fizzled harmlessly and dropped onto the carpet like a dead fly.

  Lucinda beckoned the purple lightning bolt to her with her knitting needle. As the lightning bolt flew towards the tip of her knitting needle, it thinned and seemed to wilt, all its frightening, angry energy evaporating rapidly. The once robust lighting bolt deflated into a silvery thread which slithered feebly towards Lucinda, slinking to the tip of that pointed needle. With a weak hiss, the weak little worm of light which used to be a lightning bolt was completely swallowed up by a humble knitting needle.

  Lucinda tapped her needle on the arm rest of her rocking chair, as if flicking away some dust. When she raised her needle again, Jasynta saw the three warlocks flinch visibly.

  “Jasynta, you're home early,” Lucinda smiled, resuming her knitting happily. “There's stew on the kitchen stove, if you're hungry. And I'm sure these gentlemen are hungry too. They've expanded a lot of energy since they arrived an hour ago. Spells, hexes, curses, lightning...” Lucinda waved her needles in the air, making the warlocks jump back. “They must have used up all their vital energy. I can see their aura dimming already.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head.

  Jasynta gaped at her grandmother, her eyes zipping to the gentlemen that Lucinda had so politely referenced.

  The three warlocks in dark cloaks were standing in their living room, with their wands sticking out—which was very bad form and very bad manners indeed.

  Wands should be kept strictly out of sight in polite company. Having the tip of your wand poking out of your pants was a major faux pas. And pulling your wand out of your pants and waving the naked wand in the faces of genteel ladies was definitely not something a gentleman would do.

  Obviously, these were no gentlemen, just some bullying brutes. Lucinda was being kind, or sarcastic. Or both. There usually was no telling.

  Her grandmother could be cranky and contradictory. But she was also a very powerful witch. The most powerful witch in their coven, which was why she was their Elder.

  Jasynta walked round an overturned coffee table that separated her mother and sister from the three warlocks. The ill-mannered, ungentlemanly trio were still brandishing their long, thick wands in front of them, their unspent magick oozing from the heads of their rigid wands.

  “Warlock Quinn,” Jasynta addressed the orange-haired warlock in the middle. “What a surprise. Why would an Elder of a conglomerate of covens come visit some humble little witches in the middle of the night? Were you just passing through our neighborhood and decided to drop by for a spot of tea? But I'm afraid we're fresh out of tea tonight, Camron.”

  Camron Quinn lowered his wand, and the two warlocks flanking him took his cue. Jasynta smiled at Camron but her smile was all teeth, no heart. She allowed the hostility and warning to flash in her eyes as she continued smiling at the three unwelcome guests.

  “Hello Jasynta, what a pleasure,” Camron smiled back. “You're looking...well. You haven't lost any weight.” Still the plump, chubby girl from Spell School.

  Jasynta's fingers curled but she kept her face impassive. Camron Quinn was her senior in Spell School, the most prestigious school for magick. They got together just before his graduation, but immediately after his graduation party, he had promptly dumped her for a stick-thin witch who modeled lingerie and starred in music videos. After the lingerie model, it was an actress, followed by a singer, a starlet, a socialite and according to the rumor mill, his latest arm accessory descended from royalty.

  Camron had quickly gained a reputation as a very ambitious and ruthless warlock. He had apprenticed under a capable, honest warlock who had built his vast coven from the ground up. The old warlock taught his young apprentice everything he knew. Camron repaid his mentor by usurping his position as Elder in his coven and taking over the warlock's large coven. Over the years, Camron steadily and systematically obliterated his competition and expanded his influence and power, ruthlessly taking over as many covens as he could acquire. He would issue a challenge for leadership and control for these smaller, weaker covens, and subs
ume these covens under his own to expand his empire. Camron Quinn was now a rich, powerful warlock in New Moon City. But still, he wanted more. He wanted to increase his power and influence, for both political and commercial advantage. Word had it that he was gunning to be the next PAC Alpha, and was trying to garner enough support for the next election.

  Well, support had to be earned.

  Bullying little old ladies was so not going to earn her support. Jasynta slanted a glance at her grandmother, who was making quite a racket all by herself in her little corner, with her knitting needles clicking and her rocking chair creaking and groaning incessantly. From the looks of it, Lucinda didn't seem to be the one being bullied. She wasn't in the least bit distressed or disturbed by what was taking place in the other corner of the living room. But—that was beside the point. The point was—Camron Quinn was an unscrupulous, pompous jerk.

  “What do you want, Camron?” Jasynta said, glad that her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

  “Ah, Jasynta,” Camron sighed. “This is just a friendly visit. Why do you think I want something?”

  She swallowed the bile that had risen up her throat.

  Because you always want something, Camron.

  She'd found out that he had hooked up with her just to sleep with her, to win a bet. I've never been with a big girl before. He had whispered it just before taking her virginity, and in her innocence, she had thought that he meant that she was special, that he had never been with someone like her. Now she knew he meant it as a taunt. He had won the bet.

  In a magazine interview, he had quipped smugly, “Everything is a game—love, life, afterlife. And I always play to win.”

  Jasynta's nails dug into her palms. Whatever he was after this time, she would not let him win.

  After she graduated, she had thrown herself into her work, becoming a dedicated, skilful witch and healer. She dated on and off, but she had always felt self-conscious about her curvy figure. No man had ever made her feel proud and beautiful, proud of who she was and beautiful in her own body. No one—except Blake Madden. That big, blond bear with that rakish smile and deep blue eyes. She was curvy but she wasn't a tall woman, and he made her feel positively tiny in his strong, powerful arms. Arms that wrapped around her proudly and protectively.