A Slice of Honeybear Pie (BWWM Paranormal BBW Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearfield Book 1)

by Jacqueline Sweet

  It was amazing, but she wanted more. She wanted the real thing. Matt’s eyes said he wanted—no, needed—it too.

  Mina swung one leg over his head and rolled over onto her belly. It was by far her favorite position, though really they were all pretty good. Reaching past her soft belly she spread herself open for him. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the giant, breathtakingly handsome man staring at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Was this real or part of the magic of being his mate? Would it last forever? Would she be ninety years old and roll over in bed to see him gazing at her with the raw desire she saw churning in his eyes? Something told her she would. The connection they had felt like forever. It felt deeper than the ocean and stronger than the mountain under them. The world come could at them, but it would break against their shores.

  “What are you waiting for, big boy?” Mina purred. “Come over here and make me your mate.”

  After taking his time every step of the way, Matt’s patience was clearly at an end. The man nearly leapt on top of her back in his hurry to be inside her.

  “Easy,” she cautioned. “Easy. Go slow, baby.”

  Mina watched his hands grip her hips, amazed at how perfect his tanned skin looked against her dusky hue. But then he nudged against her opening and her eyes snapped shut. She’d seen that he was hung like no man she’d ever seen, but the context had been lost on her. Matt was going to bury that giant cock inside her. If he had his way, he’d do it every day for the rest of their lives. Could she do that? Take all of him? She was about to find out.

  With her hand, Mina stroked the thick tip of his cock and then guided it inside her. Matt hissed with pleasure at the sensation and a low strangled cry erupted from Mina’s throat. He fit, just barely by god, but he fit. With one hand Mina clutched and clawed at the headboard, her trim nails peeling off flecks of paint. With her other hand, Mina rubbed her burning clit as Matt worked himself deeper and deeper into her, spreading her deliciously, impossibly open. It was as if he was made for her, made to touch every sweet spot at once, filling her completely. His cock was hard as steel and burning inside her. They were doing it raw, she realized. The idea of protection never even entering her mind. She’d never foregone a condom before—the sensations were so much more intense, so much hotter.

  Matt nipped her shoulder with his teeth as he slowly moved inside her. He whispered into her ear then, the first thing he’d said in minutes, how he loved her. He told her she was beautiful. He told her she was wonderful. He told her how he’d never ever leave her. He whispered wonderful promises into her ear as he fucked her deep and hard, and he meant every one of them.

  It wasn’t long before Mina’s orgasm ripped her apart, shattering her into a million beads of glass and throwing her to the wind. She cried out Matt’s name as he eyes flew wide and gazed upon the brief infinity of her climax. And then Matt, too, was murmuring her name as he slammed hard into her and then with a roar emptying himself in a burning flood deep inside her womb.

  “This is all happening so fast, but this and you and your house, it all feels like home to me. Like I’ve finally found a thing I didn’t know I was missing all these years.” Mina lay sprawled next to Matt, her body aching sweetly from their lovemaking.

  “You could make a life here,” Matt said. “The people in Bearfield are good people. There are no creepy shark men. I swear.”

  “This town is nice,” Mina said. “But does Bearfield have a decent bakery? I saw those delivery trucks. All of these tourist lodgings, they could use some decent pastries.”

  Matt’s belly rumbled. His bear must have liked the sound of that.

  “I never really thought I’d find my mate,” Matt said, his breath tickling the back of her neck. “I never thought I’d find you. It’s rare, very rare, to find your true mate. Most of my people never find a true mate in all their years.”

  “Maybe if your brothers left your little secret village, they’d have better luck?”

  Matt laughed. “Probably, but that’s part of our paradox. We’re solitary, but crave family and mates.”

  “Is that what I am? Your mate?” Mina wriggled against him, feeling the half-hard length of him twitch against her ass.

  “I’d like you to be.” He leaned over and kissed her neck, making her toes curl. “Would you like that?”

  “What’s involved? Do I become a bear, too?” She was exhausted, but the heat between them never dissipated, even after all they’d done she felt an insatiable need for him.

  “Oh the usual,” Matt said. “You don’t become a shifter, but the claiming changes you. You’ll be more than human. You’ll need to be in order to care for the cubs.”

  Mina reached back and held his thickening cock in her hand, stroking it slowly. “Cubs,” she said, her voice a purr. “I like the sound of that. Will we always feel like this? Or is this just a temporary heat between us? Will it go away once we mate?”

  Matt guided himself into her gently, nudging her open. Mina gasped. Would she ever get used to his size? Did she want to?

  “I’ve never had a mate before, but from what I’ve heard it gets even more intense when the mating urge takes hold.”

  Mina moaned as he thrust slowly into her, spreading her open again. “How could this possibly get more intense?”

  “Let me show you,” he said.

  And then he did.

  Thanks so much for reading. If you enjoyed A Slice of Honeybear Pie, I hope you’ll leave a review to help others discover it. Also, sign up for my newsletter here to find out when I have a new release.

  Recipe: Honeybear Pie

  For the pie crust

  Flour - 2 cups

  Salt - 1 teaspoon

  Butter - 1/2 cup

  Apple Cider Vinegar - 2 tablespoons

  Water - 6 tablespoons

  To make two 9” crusts, combine the flour & salt & butter in a food processor. Add the vinegar and water and form into a ball. Wrap in plastic and chill for 30 minutes.

  For the pie filling

  Apples - five cups, sliced thin

  Honey - 3/4 cup

  Cinnamon - 1 teaspoon

  Flour - 1 teaspoon

  Ground Cloves - 1/4 teaspoon

  Nutmeg - a pinch

  Vanilla - 1 teaspoon

  Lemon Juice - 1 tablespoon

  Preheat oven to 400°F.

  Toss the apples in the lemon juice, then add the spices & vanilla & flour. Miss with the honey thoroughly and let sit while you roll out the pie crust.

  Thoroughly grease your pie pan with butter or shortening, making sure to get the rim of the plate, and then gently fit your crust to the plate. Fill the bottom crust with the apple pie filling and then spend a few minutes licking the bowl and thinking about how amazing life is.

  Fit the second pie crust over the whole pie, pinching the edges together gently. Cut slits in the top to vent the steam. My grandmother liked to carve hearts in her pie crusts or her favorite grandkid’s initials, but feel free to do what you want. Though I’m told a J.S. cut into the top of the pie makes it taste all the sweeter.

  You could be done now. Or you could take it to the next level of deliciousness, by rubbing heavy cream or melted vanilla ice cream into the upper crust and then sprinkling it lightly with sugar. It’s not necessary, but it’s what Mina would do.

  Bake at 400°F for 10 minutes then lower the heat and bake another 40 minutes at 325°F.

  Excerpt: Tiger Billionaire - Hunted (book 1)

  By Eva Wilder & Suki Selbourne

  I swiped at my tears and stood up. My heart hammered brutally in my chest as I reached the door to the building. Hurling it open, I ran inside.

  “Oh!”

  I crashed straight into someone, right on the other side of the door. It was a man.

  A naked man.

  A naked man?

  I stared at him, unable to speak. He was absolutely, totally nude.

  Now, I thought, I really must be dreaming. And thi
s dream was a lot better than the last.

  The man was tall and solid, yet lean and sinuous at the same time. He steadied me with a big hand on each shoulder. I was instantly still, like a kitten when its mother picks it up with its mouth.

  “Are you all right?”

  The naked man’s voice was deep and calming.

  I stared again. I just couldn’t help it. Trying desperately hard not to gaze down at all the angles and edges of his bare skin, instead I focused on his chiseled jaw and aquiline nose. Man, he was gorgeous.

  He was ripped like an athlete, with a lithe grace that made my mouth water. As for his manly goods, well. I knew I shouldn’t look, but they were on display, and holy shit. He was a work of art.

  “Does complete silence mean no? You’re not all right?” His blue eyes twinkled at me like a Vegas sign.

  He must have known I was checking him out. But then again, he was the one standing there in the buff. What did he expect?

  “I’m… I’m okay thanks. Well no, there were these guys. And a tiger. Oh my god, there’s an escaped tiger round here, seriously. We need to call the police right away. Why would there be a tiger? Could it be from London Zoo? That’s not very near here though. Private collector? Someone needs to notify the authorities, for sure. It can’t be…”

  I was babbling so fast, it almost certainly made no sense.

  Hot Naked Guy’s neck was grazed and sore-looking. I peered at it. His hand flew to the wound.

  “Oh my god! Did the tiger get you?”

  “No, don’t worry. This is, ah, a shaving injury. I’m all good.”

  I narrowed my eyes. It didn’t look like a shaving cut. Not many guys wet-shaved with cut-throat razors these days.

  He took my hand firmly. “You, on the other hand, look very pale. Come with me.”

  He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me through a set of double doors, heading back into the building. We emerged into a cream marble foyer with a single elevator. There was nobody sitting at the reception desk.

  I wondered whether this particular bank employee always got naked as soon as the support staff went home. Weird kink, but pretty harmless, I supposed.

  He hit the elevator call button.

  “We can go to my office and get you something to drink.”

  “And call the police? And the zoo? Or whoever deals with stuff like escaped tigers?”

  “Of course.”

  Naked Hot Guy still didn’t seem to have any concern that he was naked. He hadn’t tried to explain it at all.

  As he pushed the button again, I stole a glance at his rear view. Then I sighed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a man as good-looking as he was. The oddest thing was that he made me feel completely comfortable. I’d have expected to feel awkward around such an attractive guy, even with clothes on. That would go double for an attractive guy in the raw. But this one seemed remarkably easy company.

  Easy, naked company. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was he going to pretend it wasn’t the case? Maybe he was insane? He didn’t seem too crazy. For some reason, I opted to trust my instincts where he was concerned.

  “I’m Finola,” I said. “Finola Malley. So you work at the bank too? Which department?”

  “Irish? Finola. That’s a lovely name.”

  “Yeah, Irish. Adopted by Londoners. I’m more of a Londoner than an Irish girl now.”

  “Irishness is a state of mind, body and soul. You can’t turn English, no matter how much you might try.”

  He was teasing me gently. I smiled, but really I wanted him to tell me about himself, not the other way round. “And what’s your name?”

  “You’re a temp worker here?” He wasn’t answering my question.

  “Yeah. I’m a temp admin assistant. Are you a banker?”

  “Yes. I’m a banker.”

  “May I ask your name?”

  I bit my lip and stared up at him, using every ounce of my strength not to gaze down at his magnificent cock again.

  “Forgive me. It’s Sebastian.” He shook my hand, his eyes sparkling ever bluer. “How do you do?”

  I couldn’t help smiling again, despite my ordeal tonight.

  Read the whole story: Tiger Billionaire: Hunted (Book One)

  Excerpt: Taken By My Shifter Billionaire Stepbrother And His Motorcycle Club (Of Vampires) (Soraya Surreal - Book One)

  By Jacqueline Sweet & Stikki Minaj

  Growing up in a house full of sisters, it can be hard to get noticed. If you’re not the tall one, the smart one, the beautiful one, or the conjoined ones, you get lost in the shuffle.

  My name is Soraya Surreal, but you can call me the slutty one.

  My problems started last month, when my mom got remarried for like the seventh time. Something about being a witch seemed to both attract men by the drove and send them screaming for the hills a year later. All of the potions and nakedness and magic must seem pretty sexy until you have to live with it every day of your life. My dad lasted longer than most, but even he could only take so much crazy.

  Some of my sisters shun the supernatural but me, I prefer to embrace it. I like to wrap my arms and legs around the supernatural and just let it fill me up.

  The wedding was a nice affair. Midnight ceremony, in a clearing in the woods on family land. The groom’s side wore tuxes and tidy dresses. The bride’s side wore snakeskin, leather, latex or nothing at all. I didn’t go sky-clad, like mom, but I didn’t exactly wear much. And as the seventh daughter, it was my turn to be the maiden of honor. Other girls might be embarrassed to be standing next to their naked mom at her own wedding, but you get used to it. And anyway, I had a pretty big distraction.

  Standing across from me, bigger than life and twice as hunky, was Duke Grant. He was the best man, the best-looking man, and my new stepbrother. I knew he was trouble the moment I saw him. The guy was a giant, easily six and half feet tall, with a muscular build like he spent every waking minute at the gym. He and his father together ran an impossibly lucrative herbal supplement business, which is how my mom met his dad. Apparently when you bulk order newt eyes and rapunzel weed, you attract attention.

  Duke grinned at me through the ceremony, like he knew exactly how my pussy would taste. I couldn’t stop undressing him with my eyes. His tux was too tight in all the right places, especially the pants-type places. He had a bulge in his trousers like he was smuggling in his own salami for the reception. And by the look in his eyes, he knew exactly how much I wanted to be on the receiving end of his meat.

  What? I told you I was the slutty one.

  I didn’t even hear the vows, or when the sky priest asked who was representing the bride’s side. Or when they asked for the rings. I was lost in the man. Little did I know, until after the ceremony, that Duke Grant was lost in me, too. We didn’t even make it out of the grove of oak trees before he had me in his arms, tearing off my latex pants with his clawed fingers and stuffing me achingly full of his hot shifter sausage.

  Did I mention he was a shifter? He was a shifter. His dad wasn’t, but his late mother had been a werewolf. Duke spent the whole ceremony breathing in my arousal, smelling every dirty thought I had about him on my skin. I guess a bunch of the groom’s side at the wedding were shifters or shifter-kin and got a bit worked up being around us Surreal women. We’re a highly sexed bunch, us Surreals. It ended up being one of those everyone-gets-laid weddings, like in the old days. Lots of procreating going on that night. Anyway, Duke knew how I felt about him and I knew how he felt about me. The fact that we were becoming siblings missed us until after the ceremony. Well, until after our personal skin-on-skin ceremony. There was no way I could think at all until after I had him in me. Something about shifters and their animal magnetism, it drove me crazy.

  “Soraya,” he growled as he held me close, his enormous cock still half inside me. “That’s a lovely name.”

  “So is Duke,” I said, squeezing myself around him and savoring the moan I elicited from deep within his che
st.

  “That’s not my given name, it’s more my rank. Or my position.” He stroked my hair as I stroked his cock with the slick walls of my pussy, milking every lingering drop from him.

  “What? You’re royalty?” I giggled. I knew werewolves had some sort of structure to their tribes, but whenever someone tried to explain past alpha I fell asleep.

  “No, it’s hard to explain,” he gasped as my fluttering pussy worked him to full hardness again.

  “Something’s hard all right.”

  Duke flipped me over and took me from behind, his thick cock dragging so many juicy orgasms out of me I lost count. When he was done he spent himself deep inside me. I couldn’t come close to taking it all and his hot juices dribbled slowly, like a popsicle in summer, down my quivering thighs.

  “Can I see you again?” he murmured into my shoulder.

  “Call me sister,” I said.

  “What?”

  “When you fuck me next time, call me sister. Don’t say my name, don’t use any of those delightfully dirty words you mutter under your breath like fuckdoll or whatever. Just call me sister. I want to see how perverse it feels.”

  “My father warned me about you.”

  “About me in particular?” I reached between my legs, to feel where he was still inside me. I never wanted him to leave me unstuffed again. I grabbed his balls and held them, squeezing rhythmically. It was a trick mom taught us, for getting seed out of animals. It was useful in certain love potions.