Smolder: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 2)

by Sexton, Ophelia

  She shivered as his beard brushed the tender skin on the side of her neck.

  "Mmm, I like that," she said in a breathy voice.

  Encouraged, he nipped her earlobe, then worked his way down the delectable expanse of skin exposed by her blouse, watching her delicate skin flush with every kiss and nibble and teasing scrape of his beard.

  Her fingers clutched at the back of his neck as he reached the top of her cleavage.

  "Oh my God, if you stop now, I'll kill you," she gasped, arching against his mouth.

  Mark chuckled and buried his face between her generous breasts, inhaling deeply of the mingled scents of soap, warm skin, and female arousal.

  "I want to see you," he said, hoarsely, and tugged at the hem of her blouse.

  She leaned back and raised her arms eagerly as he pulled it up and over her head, revealing an expanse of creamy skin. Her breasts were beautiful, two generous handfuls filling the cups of her plain bra.

  He nuzzled his way across the taut, satiny fabric as she offered herself shamelessly to him. He loved the whimper she made when he delicately took one of the hard nipples straining against the fabric between his teeth.

  Mark bit down gently and was rewarded with a deep moan and a fresh whiff of arousal. God, she was so responsive to him!

  He turned his attentions to her other breast, wringing another moan from her, then slipped her bra straps slowly off her shoulders, baring her to his gaze by fractional inches.

  "You are so beautiful," he told her. "I want to see all of you. Taste all of you."

  "Hurry up, then," she urged him.

  "Your wish is my command," he said with a wink and deftly unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts.

  He lifted their sweet weight in his hands, teasing the stiff nipples with his thumbs, and felt Caitlyn's fingertips dig into his arms.

  Mark bent and spent a long time worshipping her breasts with his lips and teeth as she arched and gasped and squirmed in his hold.

  In doing so, he discovered that making her shake with need and beg him hoarsely for more was even hotter than his first impulse to fuck her brains out.

  Can't fuck her. Not yet. Must court her first.

  Must convince her to stay.

  But she almost broke his control when she managed to squirm forward far enough to wrap her legs around his and press herself against his aching hard-on.

  His bear gained the upper hand for a few seconds. Mark surged forward, pinning her to the table, pressing himself hard against her center with a low growl.

  "Please," Caitlyn begged, arching upwards against him.

  "I want to see you come," he said and reached down to peel off her jeans, with her enthusiastic cooperation, leaving her clad only in a pair of turquoise panties.

  Claim her. Show her that you're her true mate.

  "Oh, God, I thought you'd never ask," she said, fervently, as her panties ripped beneath his hooked fingers and he tossed the colorful scrap of fabric aside.

  His hands firmly holding her legs apart, Mark sank to his knees. He breathed in the delectable fragrance of her need for him and saw how wet with need her pussy was.

  Fuck her! Fuck her now! Make her ours! His bear was howling with need.

  Doesn't work that way with an Ordinary, he reminded it.

  Clawing back a measure of control over his bear, he turned his head and began to lay a line of kisses and soft nips up the velvet-soft inside of her thighs. She jerked and whimpered whenever his beard brushed against the sensitive skin.

  Then he paused, just before reaching the apex of her thighs.

  "Mark!" She writhed and shook on the table, her breath ragged. "Don't stop! Please!"

  He blew a puff of air over the swollen pearl of her clit, which peeped shyly out from between her folds. She cried out and grabbed his hair, trying to urge him forward with gratifying desperation.

  "Would you consider staying in town a bit longer than you originally planned?" he asked, knowing he was verging on cruelty.

  Caitlyn panted for a couple of seconds, and he could feel her muscles straining to close the hairsbreadth of space separating his mouth from the center of her desire. "What?"

  "I want you to stay," Mark said. He gave her clit a swift, feather-light flick with the tip of his tongue. "So that we can get to know each other…better."

  Another teasing flick.

  She made a desperate noise that seemed to wrap around his aching cock like a caress. Her fingers clenched, trying and failing to find a hold in his short hair.

  "So will you stay for a while longer?" he repeated, making sure that his lips brushed against her with every word.

  She moaned and strained against his hold.

  She smelled and tasted so good—a clean, healthy woman aroused and desperate for his touch and his kisses. It was heaven. Mark almost came on the spot.

  "Yes!" she gasped. "I'll stay. Another week! Two! Just…do something!"

  "Good," he said, panting. "Because I want to make you scream now, Caitlyn."

  His mouth watering, he finally closed the tiny, teasing gap between them. He gave her a long, leisurely lick, enjoying the noises she was making, and savored the sweet, tangy essence of her desire.

  Then he began to caress every fold and inch of her with his lips and tongue, paying special attention to her clit.

  Caitlyn's gasps and whimpers quickly turned to soft moans, then ragged pleas, and finally, a loud cry as she climaxed, her center pulsing and fluttering beneath his lips.

  He drew out her climax, relishing every sound and movement as he pleasured her.

  When he tried to move away, Caitlyn gripped his head with strength surprising in an Ordinary. "Mark. Please. I want you."

  He froze at her plea. He wanted her too…oh God, he wanted her more badly than he'd ever wanted anyone in his life.

  But if his bear thought that she was his mate now, then going all the way with Caitlyn right now, no matter how spectacular the sex was, would seal the deal.

  He'd be bonded to her for life, without knowing much about her, or even whether she considered him more than a casual fling.

  His gut knotted at the thought of being abandoned by his mate. An Ordinary would have no idea what it meant for a shifter to be mated.

  A day and a half. I've only known this woman for a day and a half…far too soon to know what kind of person she is. Or if I can trust her with my secret.

  "Mark?" She leaned forward and kissed him hard despite the healing cut on her lip. "If you don't fuck me right now, so help me God I'll—I'll—"

  The desperation in her voice undid him. So did the legs she wrapped around his hips. And his bear's desperate need to claim their mate.

  He moved to push her back down on the table and abruptly snapped back to sanity when he heard her muffled exclamation of pain as he jarred her sprained ankle.

  That cry was enough to allow him to regain control over his bear and his own raging arousal.

  "Not until you're 100% healed up," he said breathlessly.

  "I hate you," she told him, plaintively, and he was forced to laugh despite his own aching desire.

  Her beautiful breasts were reddened from his attentions, the nipples still stiff.

  He saw her eye him.

  "Let me at least return the favor," she offered, reaching down to press her palm firmly against the cock tenting the front of his pants.

  He thrust against her hand reflexively.

  Our mate wants to touch us…pleasure us. Let her. His bear's voice rumbled smugly through Mark's head.

  For once, the man and the bear were in perfect agreement.

  "Yes," choked Mark, feeling the warmth and pressure of her fingers through the fine wool of his pants. "Oh God, yes."

  "Right answer," purred Caitlyn.

  Her lips, deliciously swollen from his kisses, curved in a pleased smile.

  She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting them fall around his ankles. His boxer shorts followed a moment later.


  Mark stopped breathing as felt her hand cup his cock and gently stroke its length.

  Her smile widened. "Wow," she breathed. "I can't believe you're making me wait for this."

  "Neither…can…I," he managed, as she began to stroke him in earnest.

  Her hands were soft and warm, her touch on his aching cock gentle but with just the right degree of firmness.

  He bent to kiss her and spent the next few minutes blissfully caught between the dueling sensations of soft fingers wrapped around his cock and even softer lips caressing his mouth.

  His approaching release rapidly gained momentum.

  Tensing in anticipation of his climax, Mark groaned into Caitlyn's mouth.

  Before he could stop her, Caitlyn broke their kiss, swiftly bent, and took his cock into her wet, hot mouth. The sensation of her tongue swirling over his sensitive head made him gasp.

  It was heaven. It was hell. It was something he wanted to experience over and over again with her scent and taste and touch filling his senses.

  He wove his fingers through her hair and felt his breathing go ragged as every muscle in his body went rigid with anticipation.

  Caitlyn shot him a wickedly satisfied look through her lashes.

  The sight of her lips wrapped around his cock, and her air of enjoyment as she drove him crazy, were enough to send him over the edge.

  The white-hot rush of an intense climax rushed through him like a fire engine barreling down the highway. With a loud growl that felt as if it had been ripped from his chest, his hips jerked forward, and he drove himself into the welcoming depths of Caitlyn's mouth.

  Her fist closed around the base of his cock, holding him as she swallowed him, drawing out his pleasure with her lips and clever tongue.

  When he was done, he drew her up and held her naked in his arms, skin to skin. Her breath tickled his collarbones, and he inhaled the scent of her hair.

  Something inside him seemed to move and click into place. He cradled her against him, bathed in her scent and her warmth, and thought, Mine. You are mine, now.

  And realized that even the incomplete joining that they had just shared had been enough to seal his mating bond with hers.

  I tried to be so careful, and I still lost.

  Strangely, it didn't feel like losing, though.

  It felt like he had won something infinitely precious. Mark felt happier than he had in a long time, an empty space inside him filled at last with something warm and glowing like sunlight.

  Now he just had to find some way to convince her to stay in Bearpaw Ridge…and to reveal his secret to her without compromising the existence of every other shifter.

  Stay, Caitlyn. Please stay here, with me.

  Chapter Eight – Discovery

  When his special phone finally rang, Philippe had been waiting for hours.

  He glanced at the Caller ID. Felice. Finally.

  He hit the Answer button.

  "Well?" he demanded.

  "It's done, of course," Felice Cassin said in a bored tone.

  Unlike Pete Langlais, she posed no threat to Philippe's standing in the pride. On the small and lightly built side for a sabertooth cat, she would always rank low in the pride hierarchy, unable to defeat the bigger, stronger cats in challenge duels.

  But just like Pete Langlais, she treated Philippe like an unwelcome outsider.

  When Philippe finally became Pride First, he'd make some changes in the pride's membership, oh yes he would. In the meanwhile, Felice had certain talents that he found useful, insolent though she was.

  For one thing, she was an extremely skilled burglar.

  "Both places?"

  "Of course," she said again. She added in a tone dripping with contempt, "What do I look like, an amateur?"

  Philippe gritted his teeth and told himself that he needed her…for now.

  "Did you find anything at Caitlyn Morgan's place?" he demanded.

  "Well, there wasn't much in her apartment—wherever your reporter went, she took her laptop with her. Except for this."

  An instant later, he heard the chime of an incoming text message. He opened it and found a photo of a small padded envelope, one end torn open.

  He enlarged the photo and saw the return address: Richard Montoya. And the postmark date.

  Oh, fuck. A coil of icy horror wrapped itself around him like a hungry python, squeezing his breath.

  "That mean anything to you?" Felice asked.

  "Maybe." Philippe gritted his teeth. How much did Langlais tell her?

  Was the entire pride laughing at Philippe behind his back?

  With an effort, he pushed down the train of thought. Right now, he needed to focus. "What about Zimmerman's house?"

  "Well, now, that was a little more interesting," drawled Felice. "No car in the garage, and it looks like they packed in a hurry, but they left behind their desktop computer system and some external hard drives. I snagged them all. And I was able to log into his cloud account and delete all the video files there."

  "Excellent work," Philippe said with sincerity. "How did you manage to do that?"

  Felice made a disgusted noise. "It wasn't hard. He used his wife's name as his password. Only took me three tries to figure it out."

  Relief flooded through Philippe. Almost done. Just a couple more loose ends to wrap up…

  * * *

  Caitlyn was still glowing from her lunchtime encounter with Mark when she phoned Jake.

  The sex had been amazing…actually, Mark was just amazing, period.

  She'd never felt like that before.

  She'd dated a fair number of guys, some of them losers, some of them pretty nice, but all of them had made her feel like her generous figure was a liability and that they were dating her in spite of this shortcoming, instead of being attracted to her curves.

  And then there was Mark.

  Oh, the look of naked want in his eyes when he had stripped her and seen her in her bare skin, extra pounds, bruises, and all!

  Caitlyn knew she could live a long time on just that memory.

  And then he had kissed and touched her just right and sent her to heaven. No one had ever made her feel like that before.

  God, she felt like she was slightly tipsy. She felt incredibly relaxed, and her skin was still tingling from the scrape of his beard.

  Now fully dressed again, she sat at the kitchen table, her sprained ankle carefully elevated and draped with another ice pack. Outside, she heard the sound of a truck door slam, followed by the rumble of an engine springing to life.

  Gravel crunched under tires as Mark drove away to help his older brother with the afternoon ranch chores.

  Caitlyn stared wistfully out of the kitchen window for a few minutes. Why was it that when she finally met the perfect guy…he lived in the middle of nowhere, and not an airport anywhere close?

  I'm going to enjoy the hell out of this—and him—while I'm here, she decided. And resolutely tried not to think about how much she would miss him when she finally had to return home.

  In the meanwhile, she had a promise to keep. She needed to phone Jake Zimmerman and ask him whether she could telecommute for a while.

  Her cell was sitting on the table, next to her laptop. Also on the table, courtesy of Mark, stood an insulated jug of freshly brewed coffee, a mug, and a pitcher of cream.

  I could get used to this, she thought, then quashed the thought. This isn't real life…just a vacation from it.

  She picked up her phone and dialed Jake's number.

  He answered on the second ring. Without giving her a chance to say anything beyond, "Hi Jake," he began to pepper her with questions.

  "Caitlyn! Oh, thank God! Are you okay? Did someone run you off the road? What happened?"

  She had never heard her usually laid-back boss sound this tense. She must have really scared him despite her low-key email message about the accident.

  "Jake," she said, as soothingly as she could. "I'm fine. No one ran me off the road—unl
ess you count some dogs or coyotes or something I swerved to avoid."

  "Where are you—no, wait, don't tell me! They might be tapping the phones!" Now he sounded downright panicked.

  "Jake, what's going on? Where are you?"

  He paused, long enough that Caitlyn wondered if the connection had dropped. "I'm at home," he said, finally.

  "What? Wait, weren't you and Jen supposed to be in Los Angeles right now?"

  And if you're home, how come I had to drive to the Middle of Nowhere, Idaho?

  She heard Jake huff out a breath. "We left for Melissa and Dave's place about the same time you did. But we only got as far as Mesita before the Check Engine and Oil lights both came on and everything stopped working. Triple-A towed us back home and dropped off our car at Don Tepper's shop."

  "Oh, Jake, I'm sorry to hear that." Caitlyn knew that Jake loved his fifteen-year-old Ford SUV, a vehicle that would look perfectly at home here in Bearpaw Ridge.

  Jake sighed loudly. "It's gonna be expensive. But wait until you hear what happened when we got home—someone burgled our place! And yours too! I asked the cops to go over to your place and check it out after we discovered that they'd turned our place inside-out."

  An icy shock speared Caitlyn's stomach. "Who, Jake? You keep saying they, but who broke in?"

  Jake's voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Shapeshifters. They know we have the video."

  "What?" She fought to keep the incredulity out of her voice. Not that Jake would probably notice, hyped up as he was right now.

  "Yes! It was them! They stole my computer and all my hard drives! And then somehow managed to erase all of the video files I had stored on the cloud! Then they hit your place too. Didn't the APD contact you?"

  "Not yet," Caitlyn said, trying to moisten her suddenly dry throat. Someone had broken into her home. How am I ever going to feel safe there again? "What did they take from my place?"

  "I don't know," Jake admitted. "Everything was a mess, but I know for sure that your TV and jewelry box were still there. And you brought your laptop and the USB drive with you, right?"

  "Yeah, I have them right here," Caitlyn said. "But how do you know it was, uh, the shapeshifters? And how would they know about the video, anyway? I haven't even written the story yet, though I got confirmation from Montoya's partner that Montoya usually had one of those little sports video cameras on him when he went for his runs. Fake or not, the fact that he was killed shortly after shooting that video is a big enough story that we'll get lots of clicks." She pursed her lips. "I'm still trying to figure out how all of this is connected to Philippe Bertrand and the upcoming election."