“I put to sleep,” he said. “Now we watch. When he wake up, we see how is.”
“You put him to sleep?” she asked skeptically.
“Is my gift,” he said as another man might say, ‘I can change a tire,’ or ‘I know how to bowl.’
“Huh.”
“We watch him sleep—is charmed sleep—I no like leave him. Even here where is no peoples. When he wake, maybe he little better. Now we eat.”
Gabby did feel better when she had eaten the remains of last night’s dinner which she had stowed in her pack for lunch. And it was lovely here in the bright green, primordial forest amongst the great Douglas Firs and ferns. If only she were not consumed with impatience and anxiety about Roman.
“You sleep too,” Vanya said, his tone something between a command and a suggestion. “I watch you too.” He showed her his long gun and began to softly whistle. The lovely, flutelike notes of a thrush spilled out of his mouth accompanied by a rough humming undertone that was his own.
The shadows were long when Gabriella woke. Roman was standing in human form looking down at her. He was naked and he looked like a man whose dreams had all come true. Wonder and delight were evident on his hairy face and in his smiling eyes. Of Vanya there was no sign. Only the two packs nestled in the moss beside her.
* * *
As Gabby struggled to fully awaken, Roman knelt beside her. He touched her face with cautious fingers as if he feared she might break or vanish like a ghost. She pushed herself to her own knees and cupped his unkempt face with her hands. He bent and kissed her roughly as though he had no tenderness left in him, only urgency.
But the passion that had always been between them had flared to life as soon as she had opened her eyes and scented his musky aroma. She too was a bear and she met his furious onslaught with her own frenzied ardor. The lustful dreams that had tormented her for weeks, were only pale and lifeless imitations of the avidity she now felt in the presence of her mate.
He crushed her plump lips underneath his mouth and delved deep into the recesses of her mouth to scour the tender tissues of cheeks and palate and tongue. He sucked her tongue into his own mouth and drank her elemental essence like a man dying of thirst.
His hands were clumsily trying to divest her of her garments. Gabriella stilled his fumbling fingers and unlaced her boots, she unbuckled and unzipped her jacket and vest. She peeled them off and tossed them heedlessly away, as eager as this barbarian to consummate their love.
When she stood to unbutton her shirt, Roman rose and gawked as if he could not believe his eyes. He helped her push the woolen sleeves down and off. He reached for the waist of her jeans and awkwardly attempted to undo them. Gabby covered his hands and whispered, “I’ll do it.”
But he would not wait. As soon as she unsnapped her pants, he shoved them past her swelling hips to her knees. He grabbed her by the waist and set her back on the spongy, mossy ground. Her panties—plain white briefs suitable for hiking in all day—seemed to baffle him. He reached for the elastic waist and tore them from her to expose her sex to his worshiping gaze.
It happened so fast she hardly knew where his intention and hers began and ended. He threw himself up his half-clothed woman and set his rampant and starved shaft to her dripping slit and rammed himself home. Her jean clad legs prevented her full participation but she was ready for him. He plunged into her hot and welcoming depths and rode her to a swift completion. Together they stormed to a fierce rapture and together they collapsed into the little death of lovers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gabriella came to herself first. She was clutching her damp and sleeping giant. His massive frame was crushing her into the moss covered ground. She felt exhausted, exhilarated and completely happy for the first time in three years. She had found Roman and even in bear he was still her protective lover. He had fought and dispatched the reddish bear that had been hunting Vanya and her. Surely he would remain human now that they had made love again.
She cradled her newly found lover against her breasts—her sports bra was wet from their exertions, and she could feel the stickiness of their mating between her legs. Night was drawing in, and she could not bring herself to care. But he was squashing her. She was going to have a fine set of bruises on her bottom and back.
She shoved at his shoulders and murmured his name. Roman woke to find his delicious and fragrant mate in his arms. His cock sprang to instant life. He growled and took her mouth again. His hand roamed over her glorious softness squeezing her velvety flesh. “Mine,” he rumbled into her mouth, “Mine.”
He was inside her before she could do more than open her legs to receive him. He thrust into her and grabbed her twin globes to bring her even closer. His face was a mask of need as he pounded into her again and again. Again he brought her to a swift and shattering climax, and again he flooded her core with his potent shifter seed.
This time she fought the lethargy. She took his shaggy face and shook his head gently, “We have to get up.”
Reluctantly he rolled off her and rose to his feet. He looked around him as if he was lost.
“Roman,” she said. “Do you remember me?”
“You are my mate,” he declared—daring her to disagree.
“Yes, and you are mine. We have to get back to my camp—Uncle Vanya will be worried.”
“Van?” Her shaggy giant furrowed his brow. “Was he here before?” He looked around as if Vanya might be sitting unnoticed beside them.
“We have to get back to our campsite before dark,” she told him. “I have clothes for you, Let’s get dressed.”
“Dressed,” he said vaguely. “My home is close...” his words became a rumble and once again he took bear.
Gabriella marveled that she felt no fear of this enormous and dangerous predator. She sat down on the moss and tucked her socks inside her hiking boots. She examined her ruined panties. Looked like she would be going commando. She carefully folded her clothing and rolled it into her pack. She tied her boots to the outside and picked up Vanya’s discarded daypack. She opened it hopefully. There were a couple of energy bars with Roman’s clothes. She took one and ate it.
All the time she was fiddling with clothes and packs, the bear sat on his haunches and watched her with a puzzled tilt to his great head. He clicked reassuringly at her and moaned low and deep—a mating call of pure ursine adoration.
The packs were going to be soaked with dew by morning, Gabby realized. Her boot would not fit inside either waterproof bag. She settled for putting them on a flat rock where the morning sun would dry them. She turned back to her lover and completed her shift.
He bounced up as if delighted and rubbed his muzzle on hers. He sniffed her all over and bumped her shoulder with his own heavily muscled shoulder. She staggered a little under this assault and he was gentler when he inspected her haunches. A last sniff and he padded away, pausing to look over his shoulder to see if she was following.
He led them to a little hollow in the rocks. It smelled richly of bear. Gabby noted big clumps of his winter coat, and that no other bear had used this spot but him. While she snuffled at the sleeping cavity, Roman prowled in a wide circle sniffing the air. Apparently satisfied, he returned to her and backed into the shallow space. He moaned and clicked at her and she joined him.
They slept curled into each other. Her head resting on his gigantic flank. His great head using his little mate’s rump as a pillow.
* * *
Gabriella woke at first light. She felt a great physical contentment and well-being. Her heart no longer ached. Roman was looking at her. He gave a deep whuff and licked her face. He bounded out of their nest and pranced away beckoning her. She followed.
He led her to a cluster of salmon berry bushes, hanging low with fruit. No other bear had foraged in this place and they ate until both of them had deep pink muzzles. Roman seemed pleased with himself. After their breakfast of berries he headed for the river.
Together they splashed and fro
licked amongst the rocks. He showed her a pool where trout swam lazily. They both caught a second meal before resuming their sportive behavior. Roman appeared to have no thought of anything but ursine play. Gabby grew more anxious as the sun rose higher. Had Roman forgotten about being a man so quickly? How was she to bring him to himself?
And yet as he clambered over the rocks and into the deeper water she was conscious of her own deep joy in taking bear and romping with her mate. The balm of his masculine scent, the bond between them, were the cure for the melancholy that had so long afflicted her. It seemed to her that she had not fully understood her own deep unhappiness and despair until now it was removed.
Roman was swimming in circles around her. He whuffed and clicked and dove deep. He came back with a steelhead in his massive jaws which he tenderly presented to her. This was a hopeful sign. Wild bears do not provision their mates. They keep harems and are interested neither in feeding nor in caring for their females or their cubs. Unlike shifters who, once mated, were dedicated to ensuring that their mates and young were well provided for.
The fish was delicious. The swim had satisfied their need for exercise and soothed a certain lingering soreness in her muscles. Now she had to try to get him back to civilization. Well back to her campsite in human form to begin with.
She climbed laboriously up over the steep rocks that formed the bank of the swollen spring river and headed back the way they had come. Roman followed her. He seemed freshly bewildered by this show of independence but he padded after her.
The cinnamon colored bear who had tracked her and Vanya the day before was sniffing interestedly at the two packs as Gabby approached the rocks. Behind her Roman slapped the ground hard enough to make it shake. The paler, smaller bear gave an explosive blowing huff and clacked his teeth.
Roman charged. The other bear flattened his ears, but obviously decided Gabby was worth dueling for. He lunged and stopped short. Roman’s bigger body bowled him ass over teakettle. His big forepaws raked at the other bear’s back. The younger bear made appeasing noises and was allowed to depart.
He galloped off with wounds that would scar him permanently. He decided to avoid this bear’s domain in future and set a northbound course in hopes of finding less well defended land.
Roman’s threatening display had stopped. He circled Gabby and licked her muzzle. He nuzzled her flank and rump. She backed away. He was plainly puzzled by this skittishness but he sat down and clicked at her in a friendly fashion. When she too sat down, he moaned longingly at her and cocked his head to one side.
Gabby laughed. In bear form this created a series of panting huffs. Her mate seemed to find this interesting for he put his ears up and cocked his head the other way. Well, she might be bubbling with the joy of mating season, but she was not about to let him mate with her while they were in bear. A girl had to have some standards.
She began to shift. Quickly she was done. Roman stared as if this was all new to him. She stood before him and let him examine her body with his eyes. Before long he was standing before her in human form. This shift seemed to have been less difficult for him.
He looked utterly brainless and utterly absorbed in her Junoesque frame. His hot golden eyes roved over her ample curves and she grew instantly damp. Her nipples peaked. Her pussy began to drip. Roman reached for her with his dirty hands and pulled her against his rock hard body and ground his erection into her softness.
He kissed her and lifted her in one motion. He jammed her onto his adamantine spear and lunged upward. She wound both legs around his waist and held on under his fierce onslaught. This mating was over as quickly as it began.
He seemed dazed as he let her sticky, perspiration damped body slide down his ragged, matted chest hair leaving a trail of spunk on his belly. His cock was a limp wet bundle, oozing semen down his leg.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Never better,” she gave him a radiant smile.
“What are we doing out here?”
“Don’t you remember?”
He shook his head.
“You had an accident.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Probably why I have the mother of all headaches.” It was a question.
“Probably. We need to go find Uncle Van.”
“Uncle Van?” He looked around as if he expected to see his foster father. “Was he here before.”
“Uh huh. He’s probably worried by now. We need to go back to camp and find him.”
“Where are my clothes?” He seemed puzzled by his nudity. He rubbed his face. “How long have I had this face fungus?” he asked.
“A while. Your clothes are in the pack.” She briskly laid out shirt, boxers and jeans. Everything was a little small. This new Roman was taller and broader and more muscular.
He had to leave the first five buttons of his shirt undone. His thighs strained at the seams of his old jeans. His ankles stuck out. But the waist was loose. His socks and boots fit well enough. The jacket wouldn’t zip, but Roman didn’t seem cold. He shrugged it off and doubled it up and shoved it into the daypack.
She was fully dressed. She offered Roman half of the remaining energy bar and they set off for the campsite, Gabby in the lead.
Roman felt disoriented. His mate was here. Which was good. Very good. He dimly recalled searching for her. It seemed he had been looking for her for an eternity.
She smelled wonderful. He was consumed with desire for her. They had mated, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to fill her with his get. He wanted to mate with her until he could be sure she was heavy with child. With his children.
His head was agonizing. It was difficult to think. But he couldn’t stop to rest. He had to keep his mate in view. He had to protect her if the young bear returned. Doggedly, footstep after weary footstep he followed her.
Uncle Van was polishing his gun when they came into view. He grinned at Gabby. Roman stopped at the sight of his uncle as if he doubted his eyes. When Van stood up, Roman rushed forward and grabbed him. They exchanged the hearty, pounding hugs and repeated kisses of close Eastern European male relatives.
“You’re thinner, Uncle Van,” Roman accused.
“You’re thicker, boy.” Vanya’s voice was smug.
Gabby looked assessingly at the reunion. She was beginning to recognize the indications that Roman had lost his capacity to maintain his human form. He was going to shift and split his clothes—which might pose a problem out here in the wilderness.
“Go inside,” she told Roman and backed into the tent herself and signaling Van to make himself scarce. He chortled and said, “I go, I go.”
She stripped to the skin and Roman unlaced his boots and peeled down. Gabby lay down on the sleeping bag and offered herself. She hoped Vanya had gone far away.
Roman knelt before her. He buried his bushy face in her crotch and breathed in deeply. His growl of satisfaction and claiming reverberated through her. “Mine,” he growled before he began to lap and suck.
Her hormones had been buzzing since their last encounter. Now they flipped into overdrive. His greedy tongue and lips shot her desire into the stratosphere. She began to twist and beg. He bit lightly at her stiff little bud and every muscle in her bottom, legs and womb contracted fiercely in rippling delight. He whuffed into her crotch and resumed his delirious feasting.
She was limp when he set his mighty organ to her glistening red flower and shoved into her hot, welcoming sheath. It gripped him tightly in the spasms of her aftershock and he laughed again as he began to move. His big hands gripped her hips as if he wanted to meld their forms together. He pounded into her as if he raced for his completion and when he felt her come again he filled her again with life and crumpled limply onto her unconscious and uncaring.
Gabby lay holding her lover, delighting in his solidity after so many empty nights and days. But he was a big man, and he was grinding her into the forest floor. Moss, and ground sheet, and sleeping bag were insufficient cushioning with his full sleeping
weight on her. She wriggled out from under and dressed herself.
Uncle Van’s whistling call heralded his approach an hour later. Roman was still fast asleep. But he was also still human. She was cooking Vanya’s game which he had dressed and left ready. A delicious smell of stew filled their little bivouac. Vanya’s had a small sack in one hand. “Fiddleheads,” he announced triumphantly.
They talked while they waited for the food to cook. Gabby picked through the tightly coiled Fiddleheads checking for slugs on the greens. Van refreshed himself from his flask.
“What does he remember?” he asked.
“Not much. He doesn’t know why he’s in the forest—why we’re in the woods. And he gets tired and takes bear without meaning to. I think we’ll have to be patient.”
Van grunted. “Patient, yes, patient. But with my medicine and your loving, my boy will himself be.” He tipped up his apparently inexhaustible flask again.
Bear Fursuits Books 1-4: Bear Fursuits Page 39
