Bearly There: BBW Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance

by Chant, Zoe

  Esme’s last thought before he swept her up in his strong arms was that she must have been even clearer than she’d thought. He gently lowered her down onto the makeshift blanket of his shirt, then began kissing her.

  Their lips touched, and it was like a thousand sparks leaping back and forth between them. He tasted delicious and sweet, like orange and cinnamon and something wilder, which she couldn’t place. Honey, maybe? From wildflowers?

  They sank deeper into the kiss, desperate to be closer. Desperate to hold on to the strange connection binding them. Esme drew his lower lip in between her teeth and nibbled lightly. The result made her quiver; Zachary’s tongue slipped into her mouth, past her teeth, and tangled with hers. The whole gesture was so naughty, so hot, she released his lip and just enjoyed the dance of their tongues.

  But she couldn’t forget that Zachary had been so worried, and that worried her.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me?” she managed to get out before their mouths returned to devouring each other once more. “Whatever you said you had to show me?”

  “Yes,” said Zachary, pulling back just enough to form words. “But first I want to taste you. To feel you. You’re so beautiful, and you smell so good, like flowers.”

  “And I want to feel you!” Esme cried, her neck craning up so her mouth could find his again. But his lips trailed from her cheek down her neck to her collarbone, stopping only to let his teeth graze the skin. Each time he did that, shudders coursed through Esme’s body. Now she knew what instruments felt like when they were played by masters, and she was just as helpless as he coaxed sounds of pleasure out of her.

  Somehow, without her even noticing, her eyes fell shut, and she found herself biting the soft hollow beneath his chin, licking and pressing tiny kisses there. She wanted to touch him everywhere. For him to lick her back. For him to pierce her with his huge, sturdy shaft.

  Without stopping his oral exploration of her neck and ears, Zachary pulled down her dress and unfastened her bra. She reached down long enough to help him; suddenly clothing felt like a cage, and all she wanted was to be free of it. All of it.

  Zachary finished removing her panties, then ran his hands over her breasts, caressing them like they were precious gemstones. He buried his face in the canyon separating them, then took them in his hands. It felt amazing, her softness in his strong palms. She’d never realized how sexy her own breasts could be until now, and she couldn’t help the little squeaks of joy that burst out of her mouth.

  Her bare legs spread, and the rush of the passing breeze tickled her clit and caught on the slick juices sopping from her pussy. Oh, she wanted to be taken so badly!

  Zachary pressed himself up against her, licking her belly button and following her treasure trail down to her mound. Then he stopped, reaching his hands under her butt to grasp each cheek. “Do you,” he growled, his voice so deep and rasping with desire, “do you have any idea how amazing you feel to me?”

  Even through the curtain of pleasure sweeping over her, Esme found that hard to believe. Her bubble butt, the one everyone had always made fun of? How could that feel good?

  But Zachary’s hands moved over her in something like worshipful ritual, so she had no choice but to believe him.

  His head dipped down, and she gasped. His nose brushed against her clit, and his tongue found the lips of her pussy and entered them. Her back arched, and she cried out.

  He let out a sigh. “You’re so sweet and musky. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Then he went right back to licking her clit, first softly teasing around the edges, testing it, making Esme shudder as arousal shot through her in the form of goose bumps washing all up and down her arms and legs. He made her feel so good, she couldn’t stand it.

  She writhed beneath him, but his big, powerful hands held her hips in place as his tongue whipped against her clit and sucked.

  “I . . .” she muttered. “I need you in me.”

  Zachary lapped at her tight pussy a few more times with his wet, muscular tongue, then lifted his head. He stared down at her with desire-dark eyes, and she could smell herself on his hot, ragged breath. It made her even more aroused, and she moaned.

  He pulled down his pants and his boxers. All of a sudden, the sight of his swollen, ready cock with its purpling velvet tip and veined shaft drove her crazy.

  “Wait,” Esme protested. “Let me taste you first.” She needed to try it. She needed to taste its salty flavor for herself before she exploded from waiting.

  “Are you sure?” Zachary asked, though it was obvious from his trembling arms that he was barely holding himself back.

  “Yes!” she cried.

  He broke into a beautiful grin and helped her sit up. Then he knelt before her, and she stared at the bobbing shaft before her. It was enormous. It was thick and powerful, and the drop of shining precum on the tip looked delicious. She reached forward and tested it with her tongue. It was salty and smooth. She swallowed, keeping her eyes on Zachary’s face, and then took up his hard rod in her grip. She squeezed it, admiring the sheer girth, and ran her finger along the veins.

  He threw back his head and howled.

  Her eyes wide with amazement, Esme began to take him into her mouth. She was able to fit a good three or four inches into her mouth, and she pumped the base of his shaft with one hand and fondled his hefty balls with the other. She liked the curly hair that covered them, just like she liked how strong he felt in her hand.

  It felt right. It felt so very, very sexy.

  She leaned in and started to move along his lengthy shaft, her tongue spiraling over it. Zachary’s eyes went wide as dinner plates, and he buried his hands in her hair, pulling him toward her. He plunged deep into her throat, so deep that Esme had to be careful not to gag or graze him with her teeth. But another thrust, and then a third, and he’d found the rhythm that worked for both of them.

  Zachary’s thrusts came faster and faster, and his breathing grew harsher and louder. Esme sucked and licked, loving the salty taste of him. Her pussy grew wetter and slicker, and throbbed painfully, aching to be filled.

  Zachary’s hands roved over her body, tweaking a nipple here, stroking her belly there. One finger wandered down to her clit and started to rub in time with his thrusts. Now it was Esme’s turn to breathe heavily, as much as she could around the huge shaft stuffing her mouth. Her lips moved around it as he plunged in and out, faster, faster, faster.

  They moved in time together, their rhythm unconscious and perfect. His body knew hers. Her body knew his.

  The pleasure built in her until her whole body tingled. She’d never felt anything like this. Never, ever so good. She was about to fall over the cliff and into the ocean of bliss . . .

  Zachary spurted his hot seed into the back of her throat, and at the same time, Esme’s body spasmed as she came. She came again and again, until she was so bright with pleasure, she couldn’t feel anything else.

  Exhausted, she fell back against the shirt on the dirt floor. It took her a minute to calm her breathing, and she trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure. It was like her body had just gone through an earthquake. She couldn’t even sit up.

  She totally expected Zachary to join her on the floor, so maybe once she recovered, she could try getting him hard again, and then he could enter her and stretch her walls until she thought she’d rip apart, but it would feel so good, she wouldn’t mind.

  He didn’t.

  He just stared at her with the softest look on his face she could imagine. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?” asked Esme from the dirt floor, gazing up at him. How could anything be more of a surprise than the past twenty-four hours?

  “Ice cream!” announced Zachary, producing a mini cooler. Esme couldn’t believe it. How had he hidden it all this time?

  Grinning to beat the band, Zachary flipped open the cooler lid and pulled out two small glass containers filled with pink and yellow ice cream. “It’s actually gelato. Ro
se and elderflower.”

  “But—but how did you do it? You weren’t carrying anything when we left the house!” Esme sputtered, caught squarely between delight and confusion. The thought of sharing gelato together sent her right back into the fairy tale. She had never imagined this would happen to her, and yet here it was.

  “I wanted to give you flowers,” Zachary said, “but I also wanted to do something you’d never forget, and since I know you like sweet things, I asked one of my valets to rush this out here before we got here.” He laughed. “Don’t worry; we’re all alone now, I promise.”

  Esme wanted to cry, she was so touched. “A bouquet of edible flowers,” she murmured, holding out her hand for him to join her.

  Zachary joined her on the floor and offered her a small silver spoon. He uncapped both containers of gelato, and Esme took a moment to drink in the wonderful colors and aromas. Then she dipped her spoon into the yellow one.

  The light, sweet taste of elderflower set her tongue alight. Meanwhile, Zachary had taken a spoon of the rose gelato and held it up to her lips. Teasing her with his eyes, Esme opened her mouth and allowed the spoon to slide in.

  Rose essence exploded over her taste buds, making her want to swoon. If this wasn’t magic, sitting with a gorgeous, generous billionaire lover and eating gourmet ice cream made of flowers, she didn’t know what was.

  An idea came to her. She laid her head in his lap, dipped her finger into the rose gelato, and traced it over his mouth. He swallowed hard and then licked his lips.

  “Tell me a story,” she whispered. She imagined the two of them lying in a bed of rose petals, trading secret stories while sipping elderflower cordial. While linking fingers and nuzzling each other’s necks.

  He looked a little surprised. “Like . . . like Goldilocks and the Three Bears?”

  Esme started to sit up then. She’d forgotten that was the whole reason they’d come out here—he’d wanted to show her something that had to do with the old fairy tale. Wasn’t it a fairy tale? She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. “Weren’t you going to show me something?”

  Zachary gently pressed her back down. “I like you here,” he said, patting his thigh. Esme smiled. She really did fit so nicely there, and he was so solid and warm. “So you want me to tell you a story. How about when I was a little boy and I didn’t get Coke a lot, so the one time I had a whole can to myself, I was totally convinced I could make it last a lot longer if I added water to it?”

  Esme burst out laughing. “That’s adorable!” She wanted to go back in time and pinch his little cheeks. “So did you get more Coke?”

  Zachary laughed, too. “I was so sure I’d figured out the solution! Why hadn’t anyone tried this, right?”

  Esme nodded. “Right.” She noticed his scent again then, something clean and piney and also a bit wild. She liked it. “So?”

  He stroked her hair, long, slow motions across her scalp, making her want to sleep. “So I could have kicked myself. Not only did I not make more Coke, but I destroyed what little Coke I did have. Ever tried really flat soda? It was like that, only it didn’t even taste like anything!”

  “You poor thing,” Esme said, trying not to laugh. But her heart hurt a little, too; she could imagine Zachary as a little boy, earnestly trying that and then his same blue eyes blinking back his tears when he’d lost on both counts. A rush of affection warmed her. “But did you end up getting more Coke later?”

  “I don’t even like Coke now,” Zachary said, the corner of his mouth turning up sheepishly. “I guess I never got over feeling disappointed that day.” He gently tweaked her nose. “So what about you? What story are you going to tell me?”

  Esme thought about it. None of her dates had ever bothered to ask her about herself, not really. Or if they did, they’d quickly talk over her when she tried to answer. Zachary, though, watched her with concentration, which made her want to make her reply a good one. “When I was little, all I ever wanted to do was read. Read and eat candy. I liked to take books out to the pond; it was like I had my own secret place under a willow tree. For some reason, no one ever went there.”

  She paused to make sure she wasn’t boring Zachary. To her amazement, he looked interested. Engrossed, even. “Keep going,” he said.

  “Okay,” said Esme, smiling. “Well, I had this silly dream that if I just found the right book, it would teach me how to stop being scared and learn how to swim.”

  “You don’t know how to swim?” Zachary asked, the question Esme had always hated, but he lacked the contempt all the other people who asked had had. He was just interested.

  So she answered the question. “No. I never found the right book.”

  “Well, I’m no book, but if you ever want, maybe I can teach you,” Zachary offered. “I’m—I’m—”

  He cut himself off and looked like he was in pain. His eyes scrunched up, and his face turned red. Two words came out in a strange, guttural voice. “Tell her.”

  “Zachary?” Esme whispered, reaching a hand up toward his flushed face.

  “Argh,” muttered Zachary, clearly straining against something. He held up one hand in the air and made it into a fist.

  “What?” Esme cried. “What’s wrong? Zachary!” She forced herself up onto her elbows.

  “I—I can’t hold back any longer! I have to tell you! Now!”

  Esme sat straight up and reached for his hands. “Tell me what? What can I do?”

  As she stared in disbelief, Zachary fell asleep. It was like someone had knocked him out with a good punch to the jaw. He toppled over onto the dirt floor.

  She didn’t know what to do.

  He didn’t look peaceful at all, more like he was waging another battle with himself. Esme bit her lip, debating if she should wake him up. But then, he’d kept an eye on her all night, so maybe he needed the rest?

  What had he been going to tell her?

  Then, before her disbelieving eyes, Zachary shifted.

  His hands became paws, with long black claws that could gouge through metal. The hair on his body thickened into a pelt. His nose and mouth became the snout of a bear.

  It was totally impossible, of course, but Esme stared directly into the sleeping face of a grizzly bear. She screamed. The sound tore itself free, shredding her throat on the way out.

  Her whole body shouted at her to stand up and run for her life, so even though she was still weak from orgasm, she grabbed her dress off the floor, hastily wrapped it around herself, and took off as fast as she could go.

  All the thoughts had fled her mind except one: Bear! RUN!

  She ran and ran, her heart pounding. She had to get away before the bear got her!

  Finally, when she just couldn’t take another step, she stopped. How long she been running? Five minutes? Fifteen? She had no idea.

  When she looked around, Esme realized she had no idea where she was. She’d just gone deeper into the heart of the woods, and now she was lost, with no supplies. Good going, Esme. But at least the bear wasn’t following.

  Her breathing calmed down, leaving her time to wonder what the hell had just happened. How had Zachary turned into a bear?

  And why did she still feel so drawn to him despite what she’d just seen? Her body yearned for the man she’d just spent the last day with. Her heart longed for his voice and his arms around her, keeping her safe.

  None of it made any sense. She wished she’d never met Zachary. Then she wouldn’t be in this situation right now. How in the world was she going to find her way back?

  Without Zachary, she had no job. No way was Mr. Lambert going to let her go back to the restaurant.

  Worst of all, she couldn’t forget the feel of Zachary’s lips on hers, how well they’d fit together. It was like a fairy tale.

  Oh! No wonder he’d been talking about Goldilocks and the three bears. The hint had totally gone over her head.

  Esme curled into a tiny ball, putting her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. S
he rocked back and forth. Dear God, what was wrong with her that the only decent man who wanted anything to do with her turned out to be a . . . bear?

  Well, whatever happened now, she told herself after a few horrible minutes of despair, she would just have to move on. Even though her heart screamed otherwise. Esme knew she’d never find a man like that again. She’d have to resign herself to being alone, because she couldn’t be with a bear.

  Fairy tales didn’t have happy endings for people like her. Everyone knew that.

  She bit back her tears and pulled on her filthy dress. With no bra to support them, her breasts jiggled freely as she walked. She had no idea where she was going, and no cell phone to call for help. Tears started running down her face, and she swiped angrily at them. Crying wasn’t going to do any good. This was life. She had to accept it.

  She stumbled over a broken branch and nearly pitched forward but righted herself in time. The crack was so loud, it practically echoed in the air.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who’d heard it; vicious barking, the kind that came from an animal meaning to do real harm, came way too close by.

  Esme glanced around, and her heart sank even further. Just ahead was a rickety shack with an open mailbox and a fence running the length of the property—but the gate was open, allowing three angry dogs to come racing at her.

  They looked nothing like Woodstock, the sweet, snuggly beagle she’d had as a child. If anything, they looked like demons, enormous and mottled. They barked furiously, ropes of drool dripping from their long fangs. Their tongues were so red, Esme thought of blood in the second before she realized they were going to tear her apart. She screamed and started running, but the dogs were right behind her.

  She wasn’t going to get away! She wasn’t going to get away, and she was all alone.

  Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs, she thought she was going to throw up. She crouched down and scrabbled for rocks or twigs. Her hand came up with a bunch of torn grass. She flung it at the dogs, one of whom leaped at her.

  Esme closed her eyes. This was it. She prayed it wouldn’t hurt terribly to be torn limb from limb, or when the first set of jaws closed around her leg.