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Bucking Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 5)

Page 100

by Becca Fanning


  Over her shoulder, I caught a sultry glance, Sven’s cock still in her mouth.

  With a growl I launched my mouth at her inviting slit.

  I moaned around Sven’s cock as Helmut’s mouth clamped down on my wet pussy. Having the attention of these two gorgeous Shifter studs on the side of the road like this was too much. I didn’t know if I could handle it.

  Helmut’s tongue lapped at me, faithfully attending to the knot of hot need in my belly. His hands dug into the front of my thighs, pinning me in place. The end of his tongue would forcefully push against my clit, sending lightning bolts through my body.

  I looked up at Sven, my free hand scratching lines in his hard abs. I loved watching him ride the knife’s edge between ecstasy and pain. His blonde hair was now slick with sweat, his bestial passions threatening to overcome him. I swirled my tongue around his head, sucking him hard.

  I pulled my hand off his balls and spat onto my index finger. As I sucked the never ending spigot of pre-cum, my wet finger went up between his legs, past his balls and across his taint. Up between his marble asscheeks, I pushed further.

  “Oh, Clarissa,” he said, he head back, his eyes closed. “Please, do that.”

  My wet fingertip reached his tight sphincter, and I circled it gently. I took my time, slowly balancing my attention between the cock in my mouth, the mouth at my slit, and the asshole I was about to finger. These boys had it good!

  “Finger his ass, Clarissa. He loves it,” Helmut said from behind me.

  I took my mouth off Sven’s cock. “I didn’t say you could stop. Get back to licking my clit,” I said, resuming serving my Seneschal.

  My Alpha’s tongue was back where it belonged, against my body. He redoubled his efforts, eating me with gusto, leaving no part of me free of his tongue.

  I worked Sven’s big dick around in my mouth. I pushed my fingertip against his sphincter, and with a smooth motion I was inside him. I savored this new sensation, penetrating this big stud. My finger plunged in an out of him, his breathing turning to panting and grunts. Reaching further inside of him, my finger rubbed against something hard.

  “That’s the spot!” Sven said, his neck muscles straining to keep himself under control.

  I cried out as Helmut’s tongue slipped past my lips and dipped into me, lapping from my honeypot. His hard thumb came up to rub against my clit, the two sensations making my legs go weak. “Helmut, slow down.”

  “No,” he said, his voice all authority and bass. His tongue and thumb went faster and faster, blasting past my sense of control.

  “Oh God!” I exploded in orgasm, tremors going up my thighs. I pulled my mouth off Sven’s prick, continuing to pump him while I cried out. I felt a hot blast hit my cheek as Sven roared in orgasm. He pulsed in my hand again, sending a blast off my chin and down the front of my dress.

  “Suh…sorry,” he said, stroking the end of his rod to clear the last of the cum from it. “That was amazing,” he said.

  “You’re telling me!” I said. “But we’re not done yet,” I said, getting down on all fours in front of my Alpha. “I need you,” I said to Helmut.

  His golden eyes looked down at me as he slowly unzipped. Every tooth of his zipper unlocking was like an eternity. The barrier finally undone, he pulled his magnificent manhood out, hanging low and pale in the moonlight. The purple crown was absolutely covered in his pre-cum, shining like a pearl from the deep sea.

  Without a word, he knelt behind me, assuming the dominant alpha position. I could smell his raw need, the pheromones from his body broadcasting his need to mate, his need to mount me. Sweat ran down his forearm as he took himself in his hand and rubbed up and down my slit.

  I bit my lip and moaned. “Oh baby, I need you so bad,” I said. I felt the electric exchange as his pre-cum mixed with my juices. I rubbed myself against him, angling my clit to grind against his bulbous tip.

  I felt pressure against my slit as he pressed forward. With strained effort they gave way, my lubrications easing the way of his engorged head into my tunnel. His pulsing heat set me on fire from within as he plunged deeper and deeper into me. Filing up with him, my mouth hung open as I concentrated on my breathing. It was all I could do as this man mounted me.

  “So tight,” he grunted as he went in as far as he could go. His balls lay against the backs of my thighs as he bent forward, laying on top of me. His broad chest pressed down against my back.

  I flexed my arms, straining to keep us both up. I felt myself grip him as he slid out of me, almost emptying me completely as he pulled back to just the tip. Then he slammed his hips forward and filled me up again. His upper body glued to mine as his hips thrust in and out, fucking me blind.

  One strong hand came up and squeezed my breast, my sore nipple protesting the attention. Sven was enjoying the spectacle of his Alpha mounting his Grace. His other hand was stroking himself back to life.

  “Put that thing to good use,” I said, my arms almost buckling from the force of Helmut’s thrusts.

  Sven looked down at me and came closer, pressing the head of his cock against my lips. I opened to receive him, again relishing his masculine scent and the taste of his seed. I gagged slightly as he pushed himself further into my mouth and down my throat.

  “I don’t think I have it in me to come again, but I do love the sight and feeling of you on my cock,” he said, watching me.

  His words drove me wild, and I sucked him harder than before. My tongue ran up and down the underside of his glans, his soft skin at odds with the hard core of his prick.

  Helmut’s thrusts became more frantic, his panting became louder.

  “Come inside me, Helmut,” I moaned, then resumed licking Sven.

  With a final fierce grunt, Helmut pushed against me and held still. The only movement was from his cock, pulsing and filling me with his seed. Hot warmth bloomed from my sex, and his balls contracted up against his taint, every muscle flexing to empty them into his bitch in heat.

  “That’s it baby, give it to me,” I cooed, relishing the feeling of being between these two men.

  Helmut collapsed behind me, panting and looking up at the stars. I slowed my sucking of Sven, now just giving his beautiful cock soft kisses as we all snuggled in the soft grass along the roadside.

  Hunting For A Mate 4

  by

  Becca Fanning

  I opened my eyes, and took a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room. The Helmut’s breathing and Sven’s snoring reverberated through the room. I stifled a yawn and lay my head back against the pillow, but I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep.

  I’d not slept well in the recent weeks. Something kept stirring me awake at obscenely early hours. It wasn’t like I was being kept up by nightmares. It was something else. I’d wake up with a fleeting sense of unease, but there was nothing specific to grasp onto. It was frustrating and upsetting, and I’d lay in bed for hours waiting for the sun to come up.

  If you wanted something to change, you had to be the change. With a tiny nod only to myself, I slowly pulled the sheets off me. Sven’s arm lay against me, a hot musclebound log wrapped in tribal tattoos. I shimmied out from under it, my nightie pulling up over my head in a display I was happy they were not awake to see. Our Seneschal’s snoring paused for a moment, then continued as normal.

  Helmut was on the other side, sleeping on his side and curled away from me. He tossed and turned most nights, probably from the stress of leading our pack. It wasn’t easy being Alpha. The responsibility was immense, and things hadn’t been easy these recent months. He was breathing deeply now and would probably continue until the first rays of dawn shown through the windows.

  I crept out of the bed, a sense of something naughty coming over me. I was sneaking out of politeness for these two lovely men, but just the act of tiptoeing around our bedroom at night made me feel like a cat burglar. I imagined myself slinking around these two, looking for valuables to pocket before disappearing out the window like a ghost. T
he room was cold, the warmth of the bed calling back to me.

  My foot came down painfully on something hard and metallic. I hopped up and down, holding my poor foot. Sven’s belt buckle, tossed carelessly on the floor. I’d have to give him a stern talking to later. Of course he’d bring up the point that it was I who took it off him and threw it to the floor.

  I grew warm thinking about last night. I’d been hornier than usual, and these poor boys could barely keep up. We’d tumbled all over the bed, wrestling, kissing and licking. Then I got what I wanted. What I needed. Ridden hard into the soft mattress until all of us collapsed in beautiful exhaustion.

  I shook my head, clearing those thoughts and tiptoed over to the dresser. I pulled out my track suit and put it on, creeping out of the bedroom with my trail runners in my hands. The stairs were another obstacle. This cabin was gorgeous, but old wood had a way of creaking when you didn’t want it to. I descended in the most gentle way possible, and was proud of myself when I got to the bottom without a sound.

  I opened the front door and braced myself against the rush of cold pre-dawn air. It was unreal how cold the world was before the sun came up. A part of my brain protested, insisting I shut the door and run back upstairs. Nestled between my two hunks, warm and comfy. But I knew that I needed to clear my head, and a brisk run would do it better than anything else. Against the insistent voice in my head, I shut the door behind me and embraced the cold Trondheim morning.

  The village was dark and sleepy. An owl hooted off in the woods, probably hunting a last minute morsel before the sun came out. I sat down on the rocking chair on the porch and put my trail runners on. After a few seconds, I was no longer cold. My body had come to grips with the new temperature and decided to muscle through it. I hopped off the porch and landed in the gravel and wood chip walkway that wrapped around our cabin.

  I passed by the dormant rose bushes, whose care was entrusted to me as Grace of the Pack. It was an ancient tradition, one which caused me no little anxiety. I’d never had a green thumb: I’d neglected every plant I’d ever owned to death. I knew this would have to be different: I wouldn’t be dumping these rose bushes into my kitchen garbage can with a shrug. I’d have to learn about watering frequency, nutrients, even soil PH levels.

  Passing by my thorny wards, I came to the rear of the cabin where our garden plots were. Three long rows of elevated beds stretched out the length of the yard. At least I’d have help with these. The white beehive was in the corner of the yard, quietly humming. They tended to stay inside their wooden box at night, vibrating their wings to keep themselves warm.

  I jogged to the end of the yard, then past a row of spruce trees and out onto one of the rough trails that snaked and forked through our forest. It went for dozens of miles in all directions, the collective land of the pack passed down from generation to generation. A dynasty of natural resources which was ours to tend, utilize and protect for future generations.

  I knew it was probably also the biggest source of Helmut’s stress. He had big decisions to make. Everyone knew that there was natural gas and oil on the land, but whether or not to exploit it was a troubling question. There would be ecological damage done, that was unavoidable. But it would also improve the quality of life for everyone in the Pack.

  Once I hit the main part of the trail, I picked up my pace. The cold air rushed in and out of my lungs, reinvigorating me with every step. Loose dirt and fallen leaves crunched beneath my feet, a clear sign that fall was coming to an end. Winter was coming, as they loved to say on my favorite show.

  The forest trails were anything but flat. Up and down, down and up, it was like whomever decided on these trails chose the most grueling path through the forest possible. It took my full concentration not to overstep on the inclines and fall on my rear on the descents. A broken leg out here would be very bad, even if my Shifter regeneration could mend it.

  The forest began to take on a lighter hue. The sky overhead was turning from black to dark blue. Dawn’s magnificent resurgence was fast approaching. I redoubled my efforts, trotting up a steep incline and around a bend.

  Off to my right the hill descended down into bushes and saplings. To my left was a huge overhang of stone, which lead into a cave. I stopped. I had never seen this before. I couldn’t be sure if I had ever run down this path before, but I’d definitely never seen anything like this cave before.

  It was beautiful. The stone was clean and dry, a light gray color and smooth to the touch. It was tall enough inside that you didn’t have to crouch, and it descended deep into the hill. There was light further in, but it was hazy. I listened, making sure I wasn’t going to stumble onto a wild boar or Scandinavian Wolf. Hearing nothing from within, I went into the cave. It soon became a tunnel, twisting and turning, and was soon narrow enough that I was getting claustrophobic. Hard stone scraped against my thighs and chest as I squeezed between a final wedge to emerge into a small room.

  A shaft of dim pre-dawn light shone down from a hole in the ceiling of the cave. In the center was of the room was a natural rock formation that rose up from the floor and was hollow in the center. It was filled with water, murky and stagnant. It smelled of mildew and decaying leaves.

  “Ahh, it answers the call,” a soft voice said.

  I spun around, but there was no one else here. I looked up through the hole, but didn’t see anyone up there. I couldn’t explain it, but the voice came from the water. “Hello?”

  “It is polite enough to greet. Yes, polite enough to greet. We shall be polite as well, yes?” the voice said. It was a small voice, and it defied gender. But it did sound very old.

  “Umm, hello?” I said, walking around the formation and peering into the water.

  “It repeats itself. Has it lost it’s mind? The poor thing is mad!” it said, it’s voice rising in excitement.

  “I’m not crazy,” I said. I’m just talking to a puddle, I thought.

  “That’s exactly what the mad say! They insist they are not mad! This is most troubling,” the voice said. “Oh stop your noodling around my fountain!” the voice said. Instantly, the smell of black pepper filled my nostrils and a small creature appeared sitting on the rock fountain.

  I leapt backwards in surprise, my head smacking hard against the stone wall. Stars swam in front of my eyes, and I had to lean back against the hard stone to let them clear.

  It was human in shape, but as small as a toddler. It had huge yellow eyes, pale skin and a long wart covered nose. It wore a green smock and matching pantaloons, with wooden clogs. Atop it’s head was a bright red cap flopped off to the side. It’s huge smile split it’s face, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. “Touch not my fountain! It is for me and I and myself alone!” It pointed an oddly long finger at me in warning.

  “I won’t touch your water!” I said. “What’s happening?” I must still be asleep. I’m back in bed, and Sven’s snoring has inspired some kind of horrible nightmare.

  “What’s happening? Why, the leaves are falling, the old fish are dying and the air grows cold at night. A chill. A frost. You feel it. Hahaha!” it laughed maniacally. “And you think it’s because ye don’t have enough wood in the fire! Hahaha!”

  “What’s your name?” I said. Might as well get to know my strange dream companion.

  It’s laughing ended immediately. “What does it say? What does it say! It wants to know a name? Our name?” it said, standing on the edge of the fountain and stomping its feet in anger. “Why does it want the name?”

  “Fine, don’t tell me your name. I don’t care!” I said. “What is this place?”

  He relaxed, crossing his arms. “It has too many questions. It is tired. That must be why it is so ugly,” it said.

  “Hey, Listen you little…goblin thing,” I said.

  “Goblin? It dares call us a goblin! If it wants to be mean and ugly, we won’t tell it why it stirs at night!” it said, turning around to face the fountain.

 

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