The Bear Prince: A BBW Bear Shifter Billionaire Paranormal Romance Novella (Seattle's Billionaire Bears Book 3)

by Sable Sylvan

  Damien couldn’t hold back. Crystal was an amazing lover, and she’d looked so damn gorgeous on this, their wedding day, even with the fancy gown and hairdo undone. In fact, for a man like him, she looked even better, with her body exposed so he could savor the sight of every last one of her curves bouncing beneath him, with every press of his shaft. He felt like the luckiest billionaire in the world to have the privilege of being with a woman who was not only an amazing woman, but a sensual lover who was just as dirty and lustful as his bad self.

  Damien flipped Crystal over so her back was against the sheets and he reoriented himself so he could enter her again while able to touch every last one of Crystal’s curves. “You look amazing,” said Damien, feeling every last inch of Crystal with the tips of his fingers. “Damn, Crystal. You look, just, absolutely amazing.” He cupped her large breasts in his hands and moved them around, pressing them together, hypnotized by the softness of her round bosom, by the way they looked as they moved in his hands.

  Crystal couldn’t help but smile. Even a year into their relationship, they were still going at it not like bears or humans, but like rabbits. Their lust for one another was insatiable to the point they couldn’t keep their hands off each other during their own frikkin’ wedding...and she wouldn’t’ve had it any other way. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” said Crystal, reaching up to stroke Damien’s mark, tracing lines on the chest and thinking about that first night they’d been together.

  That touch...Crystal was able to do things to Damien’s body that he was sure must be some kind of human magic, because wherever she touched him, his skin soon burned, as it was trying to glow to attract her to him like a moth to the flame...and it must’ve been working, as Crystal could never get enough of Damien’s body. Taut, tall, strong, with strapping muscles, and a bad-ass mate mark, he was the perfect male specimen, and his gorgeous thick brown hair, which always looked like it had just spent the last six hours against a pillow, added to his boyish charm. As great as Damien looked in both the boardroom and the garden, he looked even better in ta bedroom, and best of all, between her legs, doing the most important work he would do all day: pleasing his woman. Just as Damien adored her body, she adored his, to the point that the magnetism between the two was so strong it could erase a credit card.

  “God, I can’t hold it back any longer,” said Damien, slowing his strokes.

  “No, baby,” begged Crystal. “Don’t hold it. Just cum for me. Inside me. And make me come for you.”

  “If you insist,” said Damien, gripping Crystal’s hips and pumping at her again, feeling her tighten around him as he quickened his strokes, as he felt the inevitable climax approaching faster than he’d wanted...but Crystal had begged, and who was he to deny his bride a hot load on her wedding day of all days? He felt his balls rise and then, let loose, as he filled Crystal with his creamy seed.

  The feeling of heat inside of Crystal set off her orgasm. It was like Damien had lit a fuse, his cum like a flame, his dick the match, and Crystal’s orgasm the payload. Crystal gripped tight around Damien as she quivered, feeling the pleasure spread through her body, making her turn slightly pink around her breasts as the warm tingly feeling kept flowing through her body.

  “That’s right, baby, come for me,” ordered Damien as he kept pumping, until finally, both he and Crystal were thoroughly exhausted, and he had to pull out and lie down on the bed.

  “That...was one heck of a mini-honeymoon, but at least we definitely christened in this bed,” said Crystal, turning around and lying back, putting her head on Damien’s chest. “I guess we have to head back downstairs soon or our guests are going to wonder where we frikkin’ are.”

  “Do you really wanna get changed back into that?” asked Damien, pointing at the gorgeous gown on the chair.

  “No...but we do have to go back downstairs,” said Crystal.

  “Then...I have an even naughtier idea than my last,” said Damien. He went to the drawers and found what he was looking for and tossed them to Crystal.

  Crystal unfolded the clothing. “Pajamas? Really?” asked Crystal with a laugh.

  “It’s your wedding, you can wear whatever you frikkin’ want,” said Damien. “If we wanna wear sweatpants, we’ll wear frikkin’ sweatpants.”

  “What the heck, let’s do it,” said Crystal with a laugh. “After the year we’ve had...we’ve earned it.”

  Crystal and Damien got changed into their pajamas and headed back downstairs, wearing just their matching pajamas and slippers. As soon as they hit the dance floor, people shouted out to greet them. They walked over to the DJ and put on a request for the cheesiest song they could think of, and boogied down. The lights were lowered, and the DJ turned on the laser light show...but the best thing was, the entertainment company, midway through Crystal and Damien dancing to the second song, wheeled in a large cart, filled with cans of aerosol string, large balloons and balls, glowing hula hoops, and costume pieces. The lights changed and went from rainbow lights to UV lights, and soon, everybody was on the floor dancing in the makeshift rave, bouncing to the beat as the DJ played the top pop hits of the last decade.

  Crystal and Damien’s wedding day, like their courtship, had been an amazingly fun adventure, full of sweet and intimate moments with family and friends, full of spicy times they shared in private, and full of silly light-hearted times...and it was perfect, and they wouldn’t’ve traded it for anything in the whole frikkin’ world.

  ...and they lived happily ever after...

  Sneak Peek: The Little Bear Maid

  There was one thing that Carmen Jackson didn’t like about her job. Well. There were many things, but the big one was the rule that the customer was always right.

  This meant that when someone insisted a brand new sponge be used to clean their counter after she’d cleaned their sink, she had to go get a new sponge. This meant that when somebody told her they wanted the fitted sheets folded a certain way, she had to do it, even if they would wrinkle. The people that told Carmen what to do were people that often a.) had no idea what they were talking about and b.) obviously had no clue how to clean if they were hiring a service to do it, and who c.) assumed that because she was the maid, she was dumb.

  These tough clients had no clue that a.) they had no idea what they were talking about, b.) they should just be quiet and let her do her job, and c.) she was actually doing this as a summer job to pay for community college, so she could transfer to that prestigious four-year that had offered her a place in their business program, but not financial aid to match it.

  Inevitably, these customers were tell Carmen to do something their way rather than her way and the Quick-n-Fast Cleaners’ way, and she would do it their weird way, something weird would happen, and she would get a complaint, and so would the company, which would sit Carmen down and tell her not to do things the way the customer said, but to make the customer happy. Carmen had bit her tongue, because she needed this job, and just tried to keep customer complaints to a minimum.

  This had all come to a head on one Friday afternoon. She had a full schedule of houses to clean before the weekend, in the wealthiest neighborhood in Seattle. One of her favorite client was on the list, a man who always left her a generous tip, paid the service promptly, and best of all, who she never met, so he was never around to boss her around and tell her what she was inevitably doing wrong, according to his high and mighty standards.

  This man’s condo was a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in bacon. The condo’s price said trust fund nouveau riche, but the decor said old money. Being able to figure out a person from their belongings was a skill that Carmen had acquired through her past two years of cleaning (full time in the summer, part time in the school year, with as many hours as she could muster during breaks). But the owner of this condo...he was inscrutable. She never went snooping, although she knew some of her coworkers did, and she worked alone, doing solo jobs, because cleaning was the one time she could really have alone time, exc
ept for the odd moments where the owners gave her unsolicited advice on how to do her job. She wasn’t about to ruin a good thing, and besides, it was a bit fun to have a mystery in her life.

  The condo was always pretty clean, but not untouched from the week before. Wiping down the counters, doing a load of linens (there was never personal laundry left for her to do) and dusting surfaces was usually the extent of what she had to do. Although the owner was a mystery, she’d gleaned things from her cleaning, not on purpose, but just intuitively through the process of cleaning the condo. The owner was male, or likely male, as there were only male clothes in the bedroom and male products left on the counter in the bathroom. They had a high paying job, obviously, if they were able to afford a place like the condo, and they most likely were from a high class background, as they cleaned through the week and didn’t just leave a huge mess for her to deal with every week, and they tipped extremely generously. High class and wealthy, in Seattle, that spelled one thing. Shifter. Carmen sometimes found herself wondering just what kind of shifter the man was. His clothes were big, so wolf, lion, or something mystical like a gryphon seemed reasonable. Maybe he was a puma.

  It should’ve been the easiest job of her day...but she’d been overbooked that day. The service charged people for a full hour, minimum, and because Carmen did such a good and quick but thorough job, they booked her for a lot of small jobs that day, using a new system...but that system apparently hadn’t calculated the travel time between the places, and traffic didn’t help matters either. She was late for her last appointment of the day, by an hour. It was the condo owned by the mysterious rich man, which she’d always arrived at on time.

  Carmen parked her car. She was over an hour late by that point. She rushed up to the penthouse condo with her buckets, through a service elevator. The building was large and fancy enough that there was service parking and service elevators for outside service people. She looked through her buckets. She had everything she’d need. She would of course clean the condo the best she could, but she was going to have to hurry. The condo owner was very particular about the time of day they wanted the condo to be cleaned, and had scheduled a regular cleaning every Friday at a certain hour, three in the afternoon, for the last year. This was not a person who liked to break routine.

  The apartment stopped and she got out. She knocked on the door. There was no answer. She listened at the door and didn’t hear anything. That was good enough for her. She put her key in the lock and turned, opening the door and closing it behind her once she was inside.

  Carmen looked around. The place, as usual, was the cleanest she’d seen all week. There, on the sideboard near the entrance, was her tip, two crisp twenties under a heavy paperweight. She pocketed the twenties and went to work. The usual suspects were all there: a light coating of dust on the furniture, some stains on the kitchen surfaces, and one day’s worth of plates in the sink. She put her supplies down in the kitchen and started working. It was always the same. Kitchen first, then living room, hallway, bedroom, and bathroom.

  Carmen made quick room of the kitchen. She opened the fridge: nothing in there needed to be cleaned or thrown away, as she’d cleaned the fridge out with vinegar the week before. The freezer had been deiced that month, and it was fine. The living room just needed some quick tidying up, the hallway needed dusting, and that left...just the bedroom and bathroom.

  Carmen walked towards the bathroom, and she saw something she hadn’t seen before. It was a towel, on the floor. She picked it up. It was wet, to the point it had left a water stain in the carpet. She frowned. This wasn’t normal. Carmen lifted the towel up, and walked forward, towards the bedroom. She opened the door.

  ...And, before her very eyes, was the mystery client. It was a man, just like she guessed, and from his looks, at least, from behind, he was indeed a shifter. Tall, with dark brown hair, and thick muscles, he was buttoning up a shirt, already in a pair of designer jeans but not wearing any socks yet. His hair was wet, explaining where the towel came from, a towel Carmen was still holding.

  Carmen dropped her cleaning supplies and the man turned. “Yes, can I help you?” asked the man slyly. “I don’t believe I ordered a woman...” Once he got a good look at Carmen, his smarmy line choked up in his throat. She was drop dead gorgeous. Thick hair. Thicker curves. A uniform that didn’t do much to accentuate either, with the mandatory bun and thick outfit that almost resembled a nurse’s scrubs. Even in these plain clothes, she was enough to make not only his cock twitch, but...his bear roar. That bear, the bear that he only really heard back down in his hometown of Port Jameson, Oregon...that bear had been woken by the mere sight of this gorgeous being. The grizzly got up and roared, telling the man that this was more than just any regular woman...that this could be the woman.

  “I’m with the cleaning company,” said Carmen, blushing, turning away. “I had no idea you were home. I’m sorry, I—”

  “I order a cleaning service to come by at...precisely three in the afternoon each Friday, because I am assured that they will have whoever comes to clean out of here within an hour,” said the man. “To ensure that they are out within an hour, I leave a generous tip, and clean the best I can before they get here, the night before. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, sir, I’m sorry, it’s just—” started Carmen.

  “It’s just what?” asked the man. “It’s just that I held up my end of the bargain...and your company didn’t?”

  “It’s not that, it’s, just, something came up today, and—” started Carmen.

  “And what?” asked the man. “And so it’s not your company’s fault, it’s your fault?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, I —” started Carmen.

  The man couldn’t help it any longer. Seeing the woman in front of him, who, in her black uniform that barely hugged her curves, but which hinted at her voluptuousness, squirm in front of him, was a sign this prank had almost gone too far. “I’m kidding!” said the man, walking closer to Carmen. “Sorry for making a mess. I had no clue that you would be here, that much was true.”

  “Oh,” said Carmen, flustered. She looked up at the man and frowned. He was much taller than her, and getting a better look at his face, he was very handsome, with a chiseled jaw line but no five-o-clock shadow. He must’ve shaved in the shower. “You shouldn’t joke around like that, it’s not very nice!”

  The man was stunned. She really must’ve had no clue who he was. Nobody talked to him like that, not ever...but he liked it. Spunky. Sassy. Honest. With curves that could stop a grizzly in its tracks...this woman was really the whole package. “I’m sorry, I must offer my apologies,” said the man. “I didn’t mean to offend. It was just supposed to be a joke, but...”

  “Haha, gotcha back,” said Carmen, a wide grin spreading over her face. “Now you see what it’s like! Well, I’m Carmen. I’ve been cleaning your condo for the past, oh, forever, and I never ran into you before, obviously. I’m almost done cleaning, and I saw the towel on the floor and thought you just forgot to pick it up. You know, you keep the cleanest place on my list.”

  “I do?” asked the man. “I’m surprised. I was raised to always clean up after myself. I just have a service come to do the heavy and more intensive work...”

  “Like cleaning the grout?” said Carmen. “Exactly! That’s what I would do if I had a service! I don’t get why people hire a service to do work they could themselves. They hire a solo maid for a two hour job that should really take six hours, and complain when their place doesn’t look like Buckingham Frikkin’ Palace!”

  “Let me guess, the customer’s always right?” asked the man.

  “Ugh, that’s the first rule of the job,” said Carmen.

  “And the second?” asked the man.

  “...It’s not to socialize with the owners,” said Carmen sheepishly.

  “Well, I guess we broke that rule, so, no reason to throw the baby out with the bathwater,” said the man. “So...you’re the mystery wom
an who keeps my place looking shining.

  “And you are?” asked Carmen.

  The man looked over her. Was this another joke? No...her eyes looked genuinely inquisitive. She really had no frikkin’ idea who he was? His face graced a tabloid on a weekly basis, he was on the cover of magazines all the time. Everyone knew he had three commas in his bank account, that he was the double-B word: bear shifter, and...billionaire. And here she was, in his apartment, no, in his bedroom, closer to him that millions of woman wished they were, and she was asking who he was? “Aiden,” said the man, stretching his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Aiden,” repeated Carmen, taking his hand. The name melted like chocolate in her mouth. “Well. It’s nice to meet you, Aiden, but if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish cleaning, I’m almost done, and I’m actually expected back at headquarters.” As Aiden pulled his hand away, Carmen snuck a look at it. Yup. There were the marks. She was a human, but she knew the signs of a shifter. The tattoo-like marks...those were the mate marks, that told a shifter who their true love was, and its form and location, that varied by species and clan. So did the marks on their hands. The marks on Aiden’s hand were in the shape of a bear’s paw, and they were his paw marks. They were dark brown, and large. Grizzly. Probably a huge one at that. He wasn’t just a man who obviously had money and power in the human world...out in the wild, she’d be surprised if he couldn’t tear down a beaver damn with one paw and rebuild it with the other.

  “How soon do they expect you back?” asked Aiden.

  “Uh...that’s the thing, I’m actually over an hour late,” said Carmen.

  “Then what are we doing? You gotta head back, trust me, I won’t complain to your boss, especially given I was the one that wasted your time,” said Aiden. “Come on! Shoo!” He walked Carmen out to the door and hit the elevator button for her. He waited with her for the elevator and waved as she entered the double doors. When they closed, he headed back to his apartment...he had some very important calls to make.