Big Bad Bear: Billionaire Shifter Romance

by Linda Mathers

  He came over her again, lowering his weight down onto her. Once more, he stopped just short of kissing her on the lips, leaving her frustrated in a playful way. This time, instead he brought his lips down to her body, ravishing it all over. She had a fairly reasonable idea of just where he was headed, but she savored the ride all the more for the fact. His mouth pressed down against the side of her neck, then her shoulders. He kissed her armpits, making her cringe from the sensation. He brought his mouth to her breasts, suckling on her, pulling on the nipples with his teeth. Then further down along her body, ravishing her curves, until at last he made it down to her open legs, and his teasing was brought to its apex.

  He blew a warm breath of air into the pink, floral folds of her vagina. She moaned, closing her eyes, and then he gently pushed his fingers through her one final time in preparation for the moment of truth. Then, at last, he brought his face forward into her and buried his face in her.

  She gasped, as his precious, tender lips melted down against those of her pussy. He kissed her hungrily, savoring her flavor, slowly brushing his tongue up and down along through her folds. He pulled slightly away from her, and spit into her wide open body, coating her with saliva. Then he bowed his head back down into her pussy, and began, steadily, to eat her in earnest.

  She began to shake as he swallowed up her femininity, his tongue twisting into every tight, delectable surface.

  “Oh God, oh God... Yes... Yes... Yes...”

  She wished she could reach down right now, and run her fingers through his hair as he ate her, showing him how much she was enjoying this. And yet, at the same time, the restrictions on her movement served to intensify the sensations, and every lick that he gave to her was made doubly powerful by the restraints of her arms. Her fingers flexed anxiously and her toes curled. Her buttocks clenched, and her spine arched up from the table insofar as it could do so, pushing her body up closer into her masters hungry face.

  In response to this, Owen reached up and seized her thighs in his hands his nails digging into her as he continued to eat her steadily, his beautiful head bobbing and lapping as he devoured her whole. Her cries of pleasure continued to spur him onward, his enthusiasm growing. The sight of his head as it bobbed between her thighs turned her on more than she’d ever known. And then he drove her completely over the edge, bringing a hand up between her legs, and fingering her clitoris as he continued to drive his tongue into her like a spade.

  It became entirely too much for her, and in no time at all she was screaming as an orgasm pumped through her system, setting her every nerve on fire with sensation. Her thighs closed in around him, pulling her as deep into herself as possible, the flesh trembling, her muscles spasming.

  And at last, with a final burst of ecstasy, she unclenched from around him, shivering as her body relaxed back onto the table, still aching with the glory of sensation.

  She flinched as Owen ran his tongue through her folds a few final times. He slowly pulled back out of her and stared up at her with lust in his eyes. She was still breathing heavily as he pressed his lips up against her own. They kissed, and she tasted himself on her, savoring the intimacy of the act. He reached between her legs and stroked her as they made out like newlyweds, and she could tell by the trail of jizz left behind on her body by his long, stiff cock, that he was ready to be back inside of her.

  They kissed until both of them were short of breath, and then slowly he picked himself up off of her, and proceeded to unlock the chains from around her hands and feet. He extended his hand, a smile across his handsome face.

  “The bedroom is better, I think, for this.”

  They moved to her room this time, and in a matter of minutes they were a tangle of twisting, writhing, sweaty limbs. They planted their mouths onto whatever warm, wet swath of flesh they could find. Their need for eachother was indescribable as the sweat soaked sheets twisted up dangerously around the two of them.

  At last, he was lifting his body on top of her. She was lying on her back, and he pushed her legs apart and brought her knees up around her ears as he moved himself into position down below.

  This was the moment she'd been waiting for, she thought, her heart beating like a drum in her ears. His engorged purple tip was just beginning to push apart the folds of her pussy. He reared back, slid himself forward and hurled himself into her, filling her to the brim with every last long, veiny inch of his incredible penis.

  “Ohhhhhhh fuuuuuuuuck,” she moaned, as he stretched her out to her full capacity, sensations coursing through her body as his cock slid along up into her like a train pulling slowly into a station. “Oh God... Oh God...”

  He touched down so deep and so tight inside of her that she thought her entire body might burst.

  He groaned with satisfaction, loving the heat, the delicacy of her pussy from the inside, and he watched as she shivered beneath him, waiting to make sure she could handle him.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, after watching her tremble for several seconds.

  “I'm better than alright,” she said, suddenly seeming to regain her composure.

  He smiled at her, pulled himself back to the point of nearly extricating himself, then slammed back down into her, harder than before.

  “OHHHH!” She cried as he proceeded to fuck her.

  She loved the swelling of pressure, then the bursting as he heaved himself in and out, in and out, in and out of her. He thrusted, humped, pumped into her body, fucking her like she'd never been fucked before. She had difficulty breathing with her legs pressed up as they were, but it served to help amplify the sensations, and she had no complaints.

  “Harder... Harder... Harder,” she begged, and he didn’t deny her request. His buttocks clenched and unclenched as he heaved his pelvis forward and back, forward and back, dipping his hot rod repeatedly into her folds, pounding her with all his might.

  He pulled himself out of her after a few last strokes, then he shamelessly manhandled her, flipping her almost violently onto her stomach. She squeaked with alarm and he yanked her up onto her hands and knees, mounting her like an animal.

  He wasn't gentle this time as he pushed himself inside her, and she let out a loud moan as he slammed his tip down deep inside her body.

  “Oh, shit,” she gasped at the sensation, sweat pouring down along her face. He seized her ass, and began to pound harder than ever, hurling himself deeper into her and annihilating her as the animal within him took over.

  The sound of their wet, throbbing genitals smashed into one another, his pelvis repeatedly meeting her ass, making her head spin with ecstasy.

  She shrieked as the palm of his hand came smashing down hard against the cheeks of her ass, filling her with additional shocks of sensation. Her head was spinning, every muscle in her body tensed, the pleasure burning in her to an extent that was unbearable.

  And at last, with one final destructive blow, Owen heaved all the way inside her and held himself in place. He groaned and instantly began to ejaculate inside her, filling her, shooting pulse after pulse of his thick, molten seed up into her body.

  She flew wildly over the edge, an orgasm unlike any she'd ever before tore through her body like wildfire. She shook and screamed, nearly blind with pleasure as the ecstasy consumed her, sending her soaring through the heavens through every last, splendid spasm of climax.

  She let out a last moan of pleasure and collapsed beneath Owen's weight. He pulled out of her, and quickly pulled her limp, sweaty body up into himself, the two of them panting, exhausted, but happy as hell in the afterglow of their love. Their lips came together, and they kissed and caressed each other in a sweaty haze, until gradually things grew dark, and they drifted off into sleep.

  God, thought Brooke, with her last lucid thought before losing consciousness. What an animal...

  12

  Brooke's eyes slowly opened, and she took in the world around her. She felt optimistic about life and her future for the first time in years. Something pricked at her
mind and she sat up naked in bed, looking around, feeling as though Owen should be here beside her.

  “What the hell?” She muttered aloud. Was it possible that she'd just dreamed all that, as she had in the past? It had all felt so real.

  She looked down at her body and it was plain as day that it had not been a dream. Her skin was covered with signs of the affair. Bite marks and scratches littered her body, making her smile and sigh with satisfaction.

  Owen has probably just got up to shower or something, or is getting the apartment back in order.

  She really couldn't believe everything the two of them had done together the night before.

  She thought, vaguely, about Fletcher. That was still a shitty thought, and she wished things hadn't gone the way they did for him. She knew it hadn't been anything under Owen's control, something that should have terrified her, but it didn’t.

  Somehow, she knew that the effect she had on him was a significant one, and that as long as she was in the picture, they had nothing more to worry about. They'd had sex all through the night, hadn't they, without him losing control? Clearly, being around her produced a soothing effect, and kept the beast at bay.

  She knew he was a good person at heart, and would never do something like that of his own volition. As alarming as the actual event had been, Fletcher had proven himself an awful human being, and he'd paid the price for his actions. What if he had tried that on some other girl, too? He wasn't worth thinking about, past the extent of getting the mess cleaned up, and moving on from there.

  Brooke felt sure she had a whole life together with Owen to look forward to. Happier days, full of bliss and pleasure. Everything was about to improve for her in a very big way, and she couldn't wait to step out of her room and lay eyes on the man she felt certain she loved.

  In her enthusiasm, she nearly launched naked from the privacy of her room. After all, it wasn't as though Owen hadn't already seen (and thoroughly explored,) every single part of her that she had to offer. It occurred to her that Jones might well be present at the suite, cleaning up the mess from the night before last, and she didn't feel like flashing him her goodies.

  She slipped into a silk bathrobe, just tantalizing enough to ensnare Owen for a morning roll in the hay should the course of events end up in that direction. Then she stepped from her room, and made her way out into the hallway.

  There turned out to be no signs of Jones yet. The broken furniture still lay in tatters around the apartment, but the blood had been washed off of the walls and floors.

  That was a start, at least...

  Brooke found Owen sitting in the kitchen, at the bar, his back toward her. She crept up toward him, as though afraid to disturb him, but he turned toward her before she'd made it halfway across the room.

  “Good morning,” she said, in her best “morning after” voice. It proved something for an effort for her to muster up, considering that the face Owen greeted her with was more or less devoid of any similar enthusiasm. He took in a deep breath, and she knew that the next words to pass from his lips were bound to be bad news.

  “I - I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Ms. Lockhart.”

  Brooke stared at him for a long moment. She tried to laugh, as though calling his bluff. When he remained completely straight-faced in return, however, her expression fell, and her eyes flitted around, as though searching for something. “You're joking. Right?”

  He slowly moved his head from side to side. “No. I'm sorry.”

  “What... What the hell?”

  He opened his mouth to explain himself, but she knew that no bullshit excuse he could give her would be enough to placate her wrath, and so she cut him short. “So that's it. You fuck the help, murder their date, and then tell them to get the hell out the morning after?”

  “Brooke, please calm down,” he said, in a patronizing voice that nearly made her explode. However, at just that moment she caught sight of her reflection in a nearby window. The bathrobe was slipping down from off of her body, and her expression made her look as though she could spit fire in Owen's face at any given moment. She took a deep breath, calming herself down as best she could. She closed her eyes and straightened her bathrobe, trying to appear presentable.

  “Alright,” she said, nodding. “I'm calm. Now please, tell me whatever it is you have to say, that you think will justify your treatment of me like this.”

  She could tell from his eyes that he felt very bad about it, which made her feel bad as well. But was she supposed to pity him, when he was the one kicking her out on her ass now that she'd finally thought she knew where she stood with him?

  “Brooke. This - all of this, has gone too far. I shouldn't have let it happen, and I don't blame you at all for the fact that it did.”

  “Oh, well that's awfully generous of you,” she scoffed, but she could feel herself getting out of control, and did her best to calm back down. He waited for her rage to subside once more, and then continued.

  “That first time I knew, even then, that it was a mistake. Probably even hiring you was a mistake. Not because you haven't done an absolutely perfect job, but... But because I knew the danger I was putting you in. I knew what could happen. But I ignored it. I pretended like the danger wasn't there, because I was selfish. I wanted someone who would make me feel safe. And I really, really mean that. I won't lie; I love the way you calm me down, like nothing else can. I thought that would be enough for me. Enough to fix everything. But it was selfish, and stupid of me.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, attempting to protest. “No, don't you see? It wasn't stupid. I did have that effect on you. You made it through the night without losing control, because you were with me. How is that not exactly what you wanted?”

  “God, Brooke. Don't you get it?” He was losing patience with her now, and it alarmed her somewhat to see him so fed up with her. “The fact that it’s exactly what I wanted is the problem. I was so dead set on finding someone like you that I didn't give a damn who got hurt along the way. If I'm so much damn better when you're around, then what about what I did to Fletcher?”

  She scoffed, “Oh come on. That - that bastard was trying to rape me when you attacked him!”

  “Yes, and if I hadn't been so jealous and wanted you for myself, I might have just stopped him, instead of...”

  The word “murder” stuck in his throat and he couldn't spit it out. He closed his eyes, and shook his head as though to clear away his thoughts.

  “You know what? Why the hell am I even arguing about this with you? I'm your boss. And I say that you're fired, end of discussion.”

  “My boss,” repeated Brooke indignantly, her nostrils flaring in a way that made her resemble a bull about to charge. “Oh okay, so tell me, were you my boss last night when you had your cock up inside me, pounding me in my room? I'm curious then, what exactly does that make me? Am I nothing but a whore to you?”

  He came in closer to her than ever now, seeming genuinely angry at her for the first time. “You wanted it every damn bit as much as I did,” he snarled, and there seemed to be a genuine air of threat in his voice.

  The two of them glared at one another, for a long moment, faces inches away from one another. Then, without warning, they found themselves kissing, in an emotionally confusing moment that Brooke felt excitedly was about to lead to a thrilling, brutal round of angry sex.

  However, just as she was reaching down to cup his groin beneath the counter, Owen seemed suddenly to snap to his senses, pulling away from her with a mild roar.

  “No... No, stop!”

  He pushed her away by the shoulder, and once again her bathrobe fell out of place, revealing a generous portion of cleavage. Her breasts were beating hard, and she saw his eyes falling momentarily onto them before flitting up to meet her gaze.

  “You want it just as much as I do,” Brooke parroted spitefully, her eyes narrowed.

  “Please. You have to leave.” He said through gritted teeth, and his wra
thful expression nearly rivaled those in his bear form.

  Brooke recoiled at his words, not because of the growl she heard in his throat.

  “What was last night? A mistake?”

  “No,” he said, eyes rounding. “It wasn’t a mistake. It was… an oversight, on my part.”

  “An oversight,” Brooke spluttered. “This isn’t a business deal! I thought we were getting close. You gave me everything I ever wanted—an adventure. Love. And you’re taking it away? All because you think it’s an oversight?”

  Owen sighed. “I’m sorry. But you can find another adventure. Take another punt at acting. You’d be a great actress.” His voice softened. “You’ll wow them on stage.”

  “This isn’t about my acting!” Brooke said, shaking her head, cutting through his bullshit. “I don’t care about that right now. You’re right—I can do it, I realise that now. But I thought we were… growing closer. I like you.” She took a breath. “I think I love you.”

  Owen’s silence spoke volumes. Brooke’s chest felt tight as she turned away from his penetrating gaze. His hand caught her wrist.

  “You’ve no idea how deeply I feel for you. I think about you all the time. I wish I could give you so much more than I can, but I can’t be what you need. I’m too fucked up. Look at what I did to Fletcher. What if you got hurt? I’d never forgive myself,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm sorry Brooke. I know this sounds like me rejecting you but it's the complete opposite. I'm doing this because I care too much about you, and I don't know how the hell I could ever live with myself if something happened to you because of that...”