by Ruby Scott
“What the hell was that?” Jen asked, her breath coming a little quicker now.
“It’s a bond,” Owen said quietly, and his eyes were huge as he spoke. “I wasn’t sure until I touched you…but it’s the bond.”
“What bond?” Jen asked, starting to panic. Are we bonded for life?
“Our kind don’t have an English word for it,” he said, frowning. “It’s basically what alerts us to someone who is meant to be with us—which is actually something that can be foretold on our planet, with methods not yet possible on Earth.”
Jen’s heart was racing, but it wasn’t all from fear. What is happening to me?
“So,” she began, “you’re saying we’re meant to be together? I thought this was no-pressure.”
“It is,” Owen promised. “I just didn’t know for sure that were intended bonded mates. I suspected, but humans are so rarely candidates—“
“What does this mean?” Jen cut in, and there were terrifying visions dancing in her head: some huge alien ceremony that sextupled her life span so that she would spend eternity by this alien’s side, obeying who knows what sort of rules and laws. Was this his plan all along?
He sensed the agitation in her, and reached out without thinking. Immediately, her nerves were calmed. “It means that if you want,” he said slowly, “we can mate. And that means our energies are connected for as long as we choose for them to be. We’ll work better together, grow closer, understand each other more. Be able to communicate in different ways. Probably feel a lot closer instantly.” He took a breath and squeezed her hand. “But it doesn’t mean it’s undoable, or that you’re stuck committing to me forever. Our kind has a very different structure from human’s typical mating structure. It’s more fluid and allows for a lot looser interpretations of things like intimacy and romance.”
Jen was nodding, chewing over it all in her head. It made sense for her—she was selected for her protective designs at many of the studios she worked for, and even the US Government had been interested in her designs at one point. But could she stay by his side, afterward, through whatever else? It seemed too good to be true; she wanted to pinch herself, but she was afraid of looking silly.
Jen wanted to stall, so she asked something that had been on her mind.
“What’s up with the colors of your house?” she asked.
Owen laughed. “Did you notice what the colors did when we kissed just now? Everything looks different once you’re mated, and colors look different to me because my eyes are different. It’s a little more vibrant with my eyes.”
“So it’s even more ostentatious?” Jen asked, and Owen laughed again.
She hesitated then, and she felt like he knew what was coming by the change in his posture. “If I stay with you…will we stay on Earth?”
“About half the time,” he answered. “But I’d like to take you traveling, and also to…meet my folks.” His face blushed a brilliant red, and Jen laughed happily.
“But it’s not like a marriage?” she clarified. “You’re not going to belong to me, I won’t belong to you…”
“We’re just two people,” he said, finishing her thought. “Who will love each other side-by-side. And make each other happy while we grow.”
Jen stood and walked over to his chair. “That’s cheesy,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said as she bent toward him and kissed his lips.
When they separated, they were both gasping. “I like cheesy,” Jen said finally. She smiled at him, and the burning desire suddenly alive in his gaze let her know he saw the heat in hers.
She undressed first, shivering in pleasure when his dark eyes roved hungrily over her body as she revealed more of herself to him. Finally, she stood before him completely nude, and she motioned for him to follow suit. His hands unbuttoned his shirt quickly, and he pushed his pants and boxers down in one motion, freeing his raging erection with an almost comical bounce as it slipped past his waistband.
He held one hand out to her, and Jen moved forward without even thinking. Owen leaned down to kiss her, slipping his tongue between her lips as soon as he slipped his arms around the curve of her waist. His cock pressed against the front of her body, and as they kissed, she found herself rocking against the shaft with slow, gentle motions. Owen guided her to the floor and spread both of her thick tanned thighs with his hands; he gasped as he looked down at her wet slit, his hand moving automatically to wrap around his shaft.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
Jen could only nod, her body too full of desire to speak.
He pressed the head of his cock against her opening and she pushed upward with her hips to welcome him inside her. Jen gasped suddenly as he filled her, stretching every nerve ending in her pussy with his rigid cock. Owen slipped one hand beneath her to grip her ass, probing another sharp gasp from her, and started to pump his hips.
“Oh!” Jen cried as pleasure shot through her body. He pulled his hips back slowly, then rushed forward, slamming his body against her until he was inside her, hilt deep. His gorgeous face was slack with concentration, and Jen reached up to bury one hand in his soft curls as he slowly fucked her on the foam floor. He was longer than anyone she’d ever been with, so his body was reaching places inside her she never knew needed to be reached. His strokes were stoking a fire inside, becoming harder and faster with each moment.
“God, you’re the perfect match,” he breathed in her ear, and his mouth fell to one of her nipples. Jen arched her back and screamed as his tongue circled her puckered flesh and his hips pounded ever harder and faster into hers, slamming against her g-spot as he stroked. Jen raked her pleasure down his rippling back and muscled arms, marveling at the power in his form even while he was driving himself into her with abandon.
“Owen,” she moaned, feeling electricity shoot through her muscles as her eyes connected with his. “Harder, please.”
“You want it harder?” he asked teasingly, palming her breasts with one hand. “You want my love even harder and faster, huh?”
“Yes!” Jen shrieked as he hand squeezed over her breast tissue, pulling and twisting on her nipple until pain blended deliriously with her pleasure. “Owen, I’m so close!”
“So am I,” he panted through gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby, your pussy is so wet!”
Jen tightened her thighs around the alien as he frantically drove his long cock into her, slipping between her slick walls at lightning speed. The weight of his body was grinding against her clit, sending a second wave of pleasure crashing up her body to meet with the ecstasy already flowing through her.
Owen pressed his mouth against hers, and as he did, his strokes became almost brutally hard and fast; Jen wanted to moan, but her breath was lost in her body somewhere as he fucked her hard and fast on the floor. Her breasts were pressed against his broad chest, and she could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as he careened toward his edge.
“I’m coming!” he warned as he pulled back briefly, then covered her mouth with his again.
“Baby, me too!” she moaned and threw her head back as the walls of her pussy clenched around his thickness so tightly it knocked the wind from her a second time. At the same moment, she felt his huge member explode inside her, and he threw his head back as well. The next moment, they were both bathed in a golden light, and Jen felt like she was falling blissfully through uncharted space, wrapped in a shroud of peace and happiness.
When she woke, he wasn’t beside her. She walked through the spaces of the ship, calling his name as she pulled on the books she now knew where hidden handles attached to doors. Each one opened to a different room—a kitchen, a bathroom that looked like it had never been used, another small room with another bed and a lamp—and all were empty until she got to the last one.
The room was dark and cool, and there was light glowing from a slim monitor screen facing away from the door. Owen's face was illuminated by the brightness of the screen, and his feature
s were assembled into an expression that Jen could only call wonderment. He didn’t hear her come in, nor did he hear her footfalls on the foamy floor; he didn’t look up until she was directly behind him and place one hand on his shoulder.
Owen jumped and spun in his chair, but his eyes softened when he saw it was Jen. He grinned, then looked abashedly at the monitor.
“What are you watching?” Jen asked as she pushed her fingers through his soft hair. Then her eyes focused on the screen, and she answered her own question. It was her, at her own graduation, speaking as one of the valedictorians.
“Where did you get this?” she asked, more than a little anxiety flooding her veins as she watched herself, five years younger, speak about her goals and accomplishments on the raised stage. “This wasn’t even a big deal, just my graduation from design school.”
“It’s what made me choose you,” Owen said soberly, raising his dark blue eyes to her. “This speech. You talked about climbing ladders to crest hills to scale mountains so you could reach the stars.”
Jen laughed. “I can’t believe you remember that. That was so cheesy.”
“It’s you,” Owen said earnestly. “It made me fall in love with you. It made me believe in you. It made me believe in me again.” He placed his hands on either side of her naked waist and pulled her into his lap.
“Who’s being cheesy now?” she giggled. He kissed her neck and shoulders, and her giggles turned into soft moans as his mouth moved down between her breasts to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin there.
“Cheesy is good,” Owen murmured, and Jen felt his cock stiffen and rise. “Cheesy brought me to you.”
She shivered as his hands closed over her buttocks and squeezed gently. “Yeah…but lucky for you, love is going to keep me here.”
Owen laughed. “Cheesy.”
THE END
© Copyright 2015 by Ruby Scott - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
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Taken by the Bear
by Ruby Scott
"How long are you gonna keep that up?"
Ella looked up from her desk, startled; she'd been gazing at the memorial pamphlet from Jacob's funeral, and now her eyes were blurry from re-reading the same block of text for three uninterrupted minutes. She'd forgotten her coworker was even there, in fact, and had assumed she'd walked away when her head bowed to study the pamphlet again. Rachel was still there, though, bespectacled face turned up to look at something above Ella's head. She felt the first stirrings of anger and was ready to defend herself, and then she turned to look at the wall, realizing the other woman was talking about the huge silk banner that read FAMILY FIRST INSURANCE.
It had been carefully pinned there in 2010 when she'd first started working for the company, even before she grew so close to the staff. Before they were comfortable with her, before they'd stopped calling her Miss Morales in odd, formal tones and started inviting her over for dinners. She knew even then that this place--- a refuge only thirty miles away from the nearest sprawling city, but still so close-knit and rural that people knew every doctor and policeman by name and most doors were still unlocked at all times--- was the most special place she'd ever lived. She could feel the earth there sing to her bones, and the need to put down roots was so strong that she'd taken out a loan as soon as she found a job. For the first time since Brandon's death, she felt more than content and totally complete. None of the eight places she'd lived in the two years after her fiance's death had given her that, and this town had given her happiness consistently for five years.
She studied the banner now, realizing what the impending name change really meant to her. They'd no longer be First Family, who put family first--a motto Ella found insufferably saccharine at first until she accepted the fact that every single employee believed in it, wholeheartedly. Jacob had liked to say that it was a requirement for working there. It was only half true. There was another requirement, one that only Ella was exempt from, until now.
"I don't know," she said finally. "Maybe forever."
Rachel looked at Ella closely. "You think the new boss will like that?"
"I don't care," Ella said bluntly. "I like the reminder. I don't want to this place to get completely absorbed by some soulless parent company that runs a huge chain."
"That's what a buyout is, though," said Rachel, her voice low as she looked over her shoulder. The new owner wasn't due until the next day, but most of the employees there avoided confrontation as if their lives depended on it. "And what if the new customers don't like it?"
"They don't have to." Rachel tried to hide her shock, and Ella felt a frisson of regret; Rachel really was just trying to help, and she was being unnecessarily indelicate. Ella sighed, gathering her mane of dark brown hair into a ponytail to wring fretfully. Rachel was getting up to leave now, worry painted across her round face. She was probably going to get one of the other women in the office to try to come talk to her later. Ella felt bad but didn't have the energy to stop her. The old mother bear could take it.
It seemed like everyone was doing much better after Jacob's death, even Rachel, who had been his niece. The rest of the staff weren't like Ella, though; she'd been orphaned at 10 years old, and when she'd turned 12, the types of homes that would take her as a foster child were rough at best. She preferred the streets. Until she was 18, she drifted aimlessly from home to home, then went off on her own, staying in shelters and renting rooms, going to community gatherings when she could so she could maintain her sanity and the sense of belonging she'd desperately craved. Then she'd met Brandon, a bear shifter, and they'd fallen in love.
Ella fingered the ring she wore on a chain around her neck, bearing Brandon's inscription. Their engagement had been a natural progression from their close relationship and was barely even discussed before it was cemented. He proposed at the cafe where they met---he'd been working as a waiter, and she came in to see him every day. It was picturesque, and Ella could hardly believe it; the only other relationship she'd ever seen exist in such a storybook fashion was her parents', a love story she used as a model against all others. He was a once stoic Mexican immigrant who softened when he met the beautiful Choctaw ballet dancer at a party. They'd even died holding hands. Brandon never made it to their wedding day, however. He was hit by a car crossing the street on the way to work, a month before the wedding. It was what spurred her wanderlust, and it was why it took her eight towns before she decided to try again.
Now her world was changing again. The man who found her crying in a diner and took her in, giving her a job and helping her find a new place, was gone. Jacob became the father she'd never had, not caring that she wasn't a shifter herself, but understanding what grief does. He introduced her to the largest group of shifters she'd ever been around---his company. Each employee was family or a family friend, and all of them were shifters. It was illegal, but if insurance companies found out that you were a lycanthrope or even worked closely with them, they would try to cut you off. They were almost always successfully. Until legislation tightened the loopholes, Family First--- and other small insurance companies---catered exclusively to shifters and their loved ones. They'd operated for thirty years, until Jacob Smith's fatal heart attack. His widow couldn't run the business on her own, and no one else had the acumen to take over everything Jacob handled. So they'd had to sell, and were becoming a part of Burney Insurance, a growing chain with at least one office in each of the lower 48 states.
"Ella."
She looked up from her desk, annoyed to see Rachel there. Her annoyance was replaced by fear when she realized that Rachel was wearing her bad news face---huge eyes, pinched mouth, shoulders slightly
hunched.
"What is it, Rachel?" Ella asked softly.
Rachel took a deep breath.
"The new boss wants to see you in his office."
Ella felt like she was marching to her execution. She stopped several times to adjust her dress over her curves, cursing her wide hips for making pencil skirts creep up her backside. Ella was comfortable with her body most of the time, even loved it, but knowing the new boss wanted to see you because he'd probably overheard you trash talking him sapped every bit of confidence from her body. She examined herself in the small hand mirror in the ladies room before she went in, grateful her dark brown hair was neatly styled, at least. The door was open, but she knocked on the frame before stepping in.
A man with impossibly broad shoulders stood with his back turned, head bowed over something in his hands. He wore a navy blue vest over a white shirt and crisp navy pants. She could see that he was heavily muscled and caught herself gazing at the snug seat of his pants for a few moments before he spoke. "Close the door, please." He still hadn't moved.
She closed the door quietly, taking a seat in an unfamiliar green chair on the near side of the desk. He had a thick head of rich brown hair, wavy and expertly styled. Ella wondered how long it took, then wondered why she was thinking about her new boss' hair instead of ways to get out of trouble. She could pull the grief card because she was still grieving. Her train of thought stopped when he turned around and settled his cool gray eyes on her. He was handsome, but that wasn't it; her mind cast about, trying to figure out where she'd seen the square jaw, dense eyelashes, and capacious nose. Then she realized she'd seen it at Jacob's funeral. She didn't know if this meant something good or bad.
The man sat down, and she noticed a nameplate on the new desk: ETHAN JAMES. Her eyebrows crinkled.
