Luke (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 3)

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Luke (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 3) Page 58

by Becca Fanning


  She leaned closer. Kissed harder. She relaxed her body. Her head spun in the utter perfection of this moment. The crowd around her, she could hear, had begun to cheer, to celebrate this most unexpected union. For a moment, as she blushed, she rather wished things had been a bit more private. But it did somewhat gratify her to know that she had the support of the fellow patrons. When at last she pulled away from Nate to stare into his eyes, a smile was spread wide across her lips, a look of triumph, and utter contentment.

  But of course, not everyone in the bar was quite as enthusiastic as the two of them in that moment.

  “Alright... You've had your fun... Time to get your ass out of here...”

  Every face turned to see Roland thundering forward toward the bar from the door. A look of righteous indignation flared in his eyes. A burning passion to eject Elle in as timely a manner as possible, and see the purity of this gathering restored.

  “Roland, hold on...” said Nate, standing up to block his path, but Roland was undeterred. Many of the other men standing around the couple sided with Elle and Nate, but they didn't dare speak up. Roland, after all, was a respected employee of this establishment. He could kick out whomever he so chose, and the other patrons didn't dare attempt to stand in his way.

  “I will not hold on, you son of a bitch... You, you traitor... I let your little whore here make her delivery, just as she'd said she'd come to do... And I've sat around for hours, watching her overstay her welcome... But this is a place for bear shifters and bear shifters alone to congregate in privacy. Not for humans who think like it's nothing that they can just march in and effing own the place... It's time for her to get the hell out...”

  Here, Roland made the decisive move of seizing Elle's wrist. Harder, even, than he had upon her arrival. Nate did not take all that kindly to this.

  “Get your hands off of her!” he yelled. He slammed his hands against Roland' chest, trying to get him to back away.

  But Roland would have none of this, punching Nate in the side of his face.

  It was unclear, at this point, who shifted first. Clothes shredding, skin expanding, teeth and fur and claws erupting. But in an instant, Elle was screaming, crying out, trying to intervene. But Marco and Argyle restrained her, the two of them as stunned as she.

  The grizzlies' violent roars filled the small pub. The sound of it stabbed straight to the hearts of the spectators, causing their jaws to drop as they continued to stare in stupefaction. Elle realized, in the back of her mind, that Nate had been right about the fighters from before. About the notion that it was just in good fun, that no lethal intentions were involved in any way with what they were doing. This, she knew with horror, was real fighting. A genuine wish to murder, to slay, clear in every bite, in every slashing of claws through flesh. Not a single other of the patrons was cheering on either side. No one placing bets. Not a soul engaging in any such morbid fascination. They were all as stunned as Elle. But made it worst of all for her was the fact that, as the grizzlies attacked one another, she had no way of distinguishing them. No way of identifying Nate from Roland. She had no clue who the hell she should be rooting for, and presumably wouldn't know until one of them had succeeded in slaying the other...

  She shrieked, as one of the beasts slammed the other up against the opposite wall. Bones sounded as though they'd just been shattered. The beast doing the pinning down sank his teeth into the shoulder of his victim. The pinned down bear let out a pained roar, then exerted an immense force to outright bowl over his attacker. He succeeded in knocking him to the floor, and it was at this point that he, in turn, managed to pin his opponent down. He slashed a vicious claw across the struggling bear's face, a second roar of pain was let out in return-

  And from that point, things came to a screeching, unexpected halt. Two more loud roars from either side were let out, two extra grizzlies thrown into the ring in the capacity of law enforcement. Seymour, frail and vulnerable looking, stood at the heads of the two entwined grizzlies. The old man exerted a wholly disproportionate level of authority to his stature.

  The fighting beasts froze, the sight of The Honey Pot's owner bringing them to their senses. The man's clout and influence in their community was made wholly evident by the fact of their almost instant bowing to his wishes.

  “I. Will not have. This shit. In my establishment. You two goddamn fuckers disentangle yourselves at once. And I mean NOW! Nate, I suggest that you take your new friend home for the evening... And Roland... You and I are going to have a lengthy discussion in my office, IMMEDIATELY...”

  This was, without question, the final word in the matter. The two men transformed back into their human forms.

  Elle, still tense, breathed the faintest sigh of relief at the sight of Nate having been the one on top. His injuries were the lesser of the two beasts, a shallow impression of bloody teeth marks on his shoulder. Roland, by contrast, had a vicious series of slashes across his face. It was an injury she had difficulty envisioning as ever being healed.

  It made her nauseous, however, to consider it... That the man she'd fallen for could have caused such damage to another being when provoked. And she wished, in that moment, that she could be as far away from the scene of the debacle as possible.

  She got her wish, in short enough order, as Nate conceded to Seymour's wishes. Dressing, and escorting Elle from the premises. Roland, all the while, continued to glare at her until the moment she was out of sight.

  “I'm so... So sorry for that... For all of that... That you had to see me, like that, out of control...” said Nate, after what seemed like an interminable degree of silence under the moonlight.

  “No, no it's... It's fine,” insisted Elle. And she'd wanted to add with enthusiasm that she understood completely. But of course, this wasn't the case at all...

  “It's just... I hope you don't mind me saying so, but I was really beginning to like you...” he said.

  Elle's mouth tingled with the memory of the kiss they'd shared prior to all hell breaking loose. She couldn't help but smile for a moment, in spite of herself. Though of course, the situation, at this point, had become far more complicated than it had been in that sweet, blissful moment. “I was hoping that... Well, I don't know, exactly. I was just hoping that things could, maybe, at least start to go somewhere between us, despite our obvious differences. I didn't want your first impression of my people, and especially not of me, to be of violence, brutality, and losing control... What happened there, tonight- that never happens in The Honey Pot, and I mean never. Aside from the professional matches, I don't think I've ever seen a fight break out in that bar in the decade or so I've been going there. Or anywhere in the woods, for that matter. I don't know what the hell Roland' problem was tonight, I think he has some sort of vendetta against non-shifters... But of course, I shouldn't have let him get me so worked up, and lose my temper like I did...”

  The more and more he talked, the more Nate seemed to realize that he was only serving to complicate and muddy matters. He shut up at this point, allowing the silence of the night to take over. The sounds of insects chirping in their ears took over. Neither of them spoke a word as they strolled along, the night enveloping them.

  It was Elle, now, who would have a choice to make, and Elle alone. She had, earlier on in the evening, before the near bloodbath of Roland and Nate, chided herself for never taking chances in life. For not seeking that which she desired despite whatever uncertainties she might have had. And she wondered if she could still see the decision of whether or not to accept Nate into her heart in the same light. The risks, now, at least, were all out there in the open, on plain view for her to see... And she wondered, could she live with those risks? Could she forget about them and take the plunge?

  He'd been protecting her... He hadn't been the aggressor, Roland had been... But could the beast she'd just seen, lashing out at the bouncer in full fury, be awakened so easily? Putting her and the people around her in danger?

  “Well... Here we are.
.. I hope you enjoyed your evening with us, er... For the most part...” said Nate, once the two of them had arrived at the door of Elle's tiny apartment. They stood awkwardly for a moment. Elle was still trying to decide what she should do, agonizing over her decision... But the clock ran out finally when Nate seemed to decide for her, adding, “Anyway... Give Konrad my regards... It was a pleasure meeting you...”

  He nodded to her, and had just turned to leave, when suddenly Elle piped up. “Nate wait!” He turned back quickly enough, almost as though he'd been expecting this, or at the very least hoping for it all this time. “I... I...” It was now or never, she realized, stammering. She was still clearly trying to come to a decision even as she spoke, time already run out, but the choice not yet made. At last she gave in. She had no idea whether or not it was the right thing to do, but she decided to go with her gut, “...I really, really did have a great time with you this evening... Back there... Before, you know... Everything else that happened...”

  Though he'd been hoping for this, it still seemed to catch Nate off guard. And he turned to face her. “So did I,” he said, in a low, considerate voice. And before either of them knew it, they were standing close together. Mutually mesmerized, sweat beginning to prickle up on their skin...

  Neither Nate nor Elle could help themselves any longer. They could no longer avoid picking up where they'd left off before Roland' butting in, spoiling their plans. And now, now, thank God, they had the benefit of privacy on their side, no audience, no one to judge them. Now, they could give into one another completely and wholly. And it was clear, as Nate leaned deeper, deeper, deeper into her, that he had every intention in the world of doing that.

  Elle was lightheaded again as they kissed, and this time the honey beer had nothing to do with it. He pulled her into himself. She could feel him growing hard, thick, aroused for her... His heat, his solidity, making it known on no uncertain terms how he yearned for her love in that moment... And who the hell was she to deprive such a passionate lover of that which he craved so dearly?

  It was all moving so very, very fast. Elle was not the type of girl to give into such impulses. Her relationships never made the progressed this fast. But he was ravishing her, pressing his body against hers... Sliding his hands all over her, squeezing her breasts right out here in the open, and she was starving for his flesh as his kisses ran down along her neck.

  The tit grabbing was particularly damning, as splendid as it felt to have him touch her in that way. She wondered whether the privacy of the forest better allowed for such rendezvous. Whether perhaps they enabled such unexpected dives into passion to take place without disruption. It was no big deal for shifters to walk around naked in one another's presence, after all...

  As swept up in the moment... As lost, in Nate's touch as she was just then... There was still that practical part of her brain taking over in the back of her head. And she forced herself to pull away from him in that moment. Not completely, of course, as his kisses continued to rain down along her throat. But enough for her to be able to reach into her pocket and fumble for her keys. Pushing them into the door and unlocking the thing with a tremendous effort... Then at last pushing it wide open, and whisking Nate inside, sealing the two of them into the private sanctuary of her home.

  They hit the bed hard, giggling as they bounced upon its soft surface. Elle still couldn't believe she was giving herself over to a man, a bear shifter, no less. But just then she found herself not caring all that much about propriety. Or pacing herself. Or anything at all, for that matter, other than giving into her deepest, most desperate carnal desires... Nate was stripping out of his shirt, his pants, his naked body now far more arousing now that it wasn't being torn apart by Roland. He was massive, powerful, draped with hair all over, in a manner that made him seem animalistic. And his penis, she now saw, was tremendous. Long and veiny, its erect form making her mouth water, and her skin burning as he proceeded to undress her in the moonlight.

  She loved the feeling of his hands, swimming across her body, her stomach her breasts, with the removal of her shirt and pants. He struggled with undoing the clasp of her bra. She helped him out, eager for things to get underway. He showed his gratitude for this act of kindness, then, by seizing her soft, silky breasts in his firm, large hands. He squeezed them, filling her with pleasure and making her crave more.

  He slid his hands down, down, down between her legs. He hooked his fingers beneath her panties, and causing her to gasp out in pleasure as he began to rub her tenderly. His grip was precise... Perversely skillful despite the apparent hugeness and clunkiness of his digits. His touch, however, was nothing. Or at least not compared to the moment when he slid her from those lacy little panties altogether... And then he surprised her one step further by sinking his head down between her thighs.

  Her eyes went wide, and then shuddered closed. She attempted to contain herself through the long, wet waves of pleasure. He licked her tenderly, sliding his tongue through her pussy. Lapping up her insides and licking her as though she were the most flavorful of delicacies. Her spine flexed and her limbs trembled as she let out light, feminine whimpers. She had to keep reminding herself to breathe as the pleasure swelled. Forcing her, in her ecstasy, to let her knees fall around his bobbing, lapping head, trapping him. Pulling him further, further, further in... Until at last she cried out in orgasm, body heaving with pleasure, and her head spinning.

  Gradually, her knees unbent. Her buttocks unclenched, and she relinquished her beautiful oral lover from her grip. He came away from between her legs with a smile on his lips, and then moved his face forward, planting a kiss on her panting mouth. She tasted herself on him, and somehow this filled her with a feeling of intense intimacy. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, and began to squirm as once again he proceeded to finger her cunt. Sliding his grip along through her, limbering her up, getting her wetter and wetter and wetter... All in preparation for the glorious finale that was about to unfold.

  At last, she was ready, and he seemed to know, at the right moment. He slid his hands around both of her ankles. He pushed them upward, spreading them wide apart, and pinning her knees up around her head.

  He lifted his body up over her, mounting her, sliding his erect penis up and down against her a few times. He did this almost teasingly, and she bit her lip, readying herself as best she could. He took one hand from off of her knee, and used it to place his tip just inside her. Then she squeaked, as he began to plunge himself inside her. He buried his cock up deep, deep, deep into her pussy, sliding inch after inch after inch of himself inside her... Until at long, long last he was buried, his shaft wholly consumed in the tight wet pinkness of her folds, and she let out a tremendous sigh of passion. Stretched out, overloaded, and so wholly aroused in that moment that she could hardly see straight.

  And he began to hump, to thrust, to fuck her powerfully. His ass began to lift, to strike, to push in toward her body, his pelvis slamming forward into her. Their wet, fully aroused genitals smashing together... Building up a dreadful friction as he pounded her mercilessly. Each thrust was more brutal than the last, their bodies resounding with a series of booming claps!

  She was moaning, crying out at the top of her lungs, every muscle tensed as he destroyed her... His animalistic fury, surpassing even her wildest expectations... And every nerve in her body stretched to breaking with pleasure, when at last, with one final blow, he hurled himself down inside her like a hammer. Both of them, in a splendid moment of ecstasy, were sent spiraling over the edge.

  He began to cum wildly inside her, filling her with a thick, molten substance that was sweeter than honey beer by far. His seed spilled from her body in its thickness and its abundance. And Elle, then, was set alight with orgasm in return. Climax, gripping her from head to toe. Her screams ear piercing. Her fingers curling into the sweat soaked bed sheets, and stars flashing before her eyes... She drifted back down to Earth, and he at last pulled out of her, evoking an immense, trembling sigh of re
lief.

  The two of them tenderly drifted off, happy and content, wrapped up in the tightest of bear hugs.

  Bearly Tamed

  Big Paw Security Book I

  by

  Becca Fanning

  Linnie Foster felt like she needed a cigarette. She’d never smoked, but in the movies, this seemed like the sort of situation where you’d have a cigarette. It was a nerves thing. They calmed your nerves, right?

  The motel room she was trapped in seemed tiny, even though the police had upgraded her to a double. Pastel shapes covered the peeling wallpaper. Were they once flowers? This motel didn’t seem like the kind of place that rented rooms by the week very often; Linnie suspected they were usually leased by the hour.

  One of the two detectives, Parker, was a heavy set, wide-shouldered man. He was the one currently keeping watch at the window. Parker would pull the curtain back and glance out into the parking lot every time a set of lights drifted past the window. He seemed to suffer from a chronic digestive disagreement, often putting a hand to his stomach and grimacing. He did it with such a passive automation that he probably no longer noticed. His stomach gurgled again. “Hurg,” he said, rubbing his stomach like a genie lamp.

 

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