Read Matthew (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 1) Online
Authors: Becca Fanning
“Please,” she whispered.
“What do you want?” The sight of him between her legs was so erotic that she almost couldn’t form words.
“I—I want…”
“Say it, April,” he ordered softly.
“I want you to lick me.”
“Here?” he asked as he drew a line up her thigh with his tongue.
She squirmed. “You know where!”
“I do. But I want you to tell me.”
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. “My pussy,” she said, finally. “I want you to lick my pussy.”
“Was that so hard?” he asked.
She could feel his breath on her most private places, through her underwear. “Yes,” she said.
He pressed his mouth to her cloth-covered sex. Her hips bucked up; she was desperate for more, but he easily held her down. “I set the pace,” he reminded her.
“But you’re going too slowly.”
He laughed and kissed her again before he slowly pushed the fabric to the side. His finger dipped against her lower lips, testing her wetness. He ran it up and down her slit, just barely touching her. “Please,” she begged. He acquiesced.
He lowered his mouth to her warmth, drinking in her smell. His tongue slid into her, shallowly fucking her. One finger went to her clit, rubbing it in leisurely circles. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough to get her off. She needed more. He didn’t seem to care about the pleading noises she was making. He slowly licked her from top to bottom. His warm tongue circled her clit, learning her topography.
Then, at a pace that made her want to scream in frustration, he slipped one finger inside of her. She bucked against him. “More,” her voice was hoarse.
He added a second finger, curling them up to rub against the spot inside her that made her see stars. His tongue lashed against her clit and she felt the orgasm build in her body. She came. Hard. Her fingers grasped at the sheets as she thrashed. He held her hips down, never stopping his ministrations as her inner walls gripped his fingers. He pushed her through a second orgasm, and she could only repeat his name, over and over again.
As she came down from her orgasm, he pulled her tank top over her head and gently sucked on her breasts. Her hands fisted in his hair and she let him kiss her body however he pleased.
“Take your pants off,” she whispered, once she could speak.
“Bossy,” he said with a laugh. He pushed the pants off his hips, along with his boxers, exposing the glorious thickness of his cock.
She reached for it. Her fingers explored the silky hardness, and followed the thick veins to the head of his cock, where a small amount of pre-cum waited for her. She brushed her finger against it and he moaned loudly.
“Can I suck you?” she asked, already pushing herself up off the bed.
“Next time,” he said, pulling her to him. “I need to be inside of your pretty little pussy.” His words made her blush and she felt even more wetness flood her sex.
He laid her back down and hovered over her. She loved the way his strong, tattooed arms looked next to her bare skin. She closed her eyes as he kissed her jaw line. “No,” he said. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes and watched as he positioned his cock at her entrance and slowly filled her up. He was so thick and long that it felt like she was completely full long before he was fully inside of her. “Take all of me,” he whispered. He slid the rest of the way inside of her and she moaned. She could feel every inch of him making her almost unbearably full. He slowly slid almost all of the way out, and then pushed back into her. Her hands gripped the back of his shoulders as he thrust into her again. His pace sped up as he drove her to the brink of another orgasm.
“I’m gonna…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t think straight.
He pressed down on her clit with one finger and said, “Cum for me.” And she did. Hard. Her inner walls squeezed him and she felt him twitch inside of her before he shot his load deep within her. He collapsed on her, careful not to put his full body weight on her.
He slowly pulled out of her and then rolled off, pulling her into his side. He pulled the covers over both of them.
“Wow,” she said once she was settled against him.
“Yeah, wow.” They were silent for a moment, just taking in each other’s labored breaths. And then something hit her. It wasn’t an opportune moment to bring it up, but she needed to make sure she wasn’t about to make his life more difficult than she was already making it.
“So Tyler…he likes me?” she started lamely. She didn’t want to cause problems in his friend group.
He laughed and squeezed her closer. “Oh he knows that this is happening, you and me. He was trying to annoy me into making a move on you. And he knows that if he puts a paw on you then I’m going to rip his arm off.”
“Good to know,” she said as he pulled her in for another kiss.
It was so easy to keep their working relationship separate from their romantic relationship. April was right, and Brett was terribly surprised. His friends knew almost instantly, they could smell her on him, but his coworkers were completely in the dark.
He treated their time at work like extended foreplay. He would watch her work on something for a few minutes, before moving on, knowing that she felt his gaze on her, knowing that it made her wet to have him watch her like that.
He loved it.
They didn’t talk much while at work. Sometimes they exchanged a few words if they were both having lunch at the same time. Sometimes, he even pulled her into his office for a quick kiss. But nothing too risky. They often left at the same time, and either went to her place, his place, or to Jeanette’s bar. She fit right in with his friends, and they teased her relentlessly about spending time with him. She was a good sport about it all and gave as good as she got.
She and Carrie, Brian’s girlfriend, hit it off as well. When Carrie wasn’t working and was just hanging out with the group, they were constantly huddled up, giggling. Brett had a funny feeling that they were talking about him.
One night, after a round of particularly athletic sex that left him panting, she curled up next to him and said, “We’ve never gone on a date.”
He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Yeah we have. We go to the bar all the time.”
“That’s not a date. That’s us hanging out with friends, in a group.”
“Do you want a romantic dinner? Flowers?” His heart sank. He hadn’t even thought to be particularly romantic with her because their relationship was so easy. Spending time with her was always amazing. He wanted to hit himself for not thinking that she needed romantic gestures just like everyone else.
She shrugged. “Not necessarily anything like that. That’s not very us.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “But, I don’t know, we should do…something.”
He thought for a minute and came up with the perfect idea. He needed to tell her something important, and he knew what the appropriate venue was. He had disclosed his status as a shifter to enough girls to know how to do it properly. “Go camping with me.”
“What? Is that like a weird sex thing? You like doing it in the woods? We have enough sex, we’re supposed to go on a date.”
He laughed. “I mean, I’m happy to have sex in a nice tent, but I actually just really like camping and want to show you something. It’s going to be a date. We’ll cook dinner over a fire. I’ll even pick you flowers,” he joked.
“I know what you’re going to tell me though.”
“No you don’t,” he said, sure of himself.
“I do. You’re a shifter.”
He raised an eyebrow, completely shocked. It wasn’t like being a shifter was some big news story anymore, but people were usually pretty shocked when they found out. “How did you know?”
It was her turn to laugh. “You’re in a motorcycle club called “The Clan,” and a human-supremacist group blew up the bar you frequent like two months ago. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”
“You’re not bothered?” He looked genuinely worried about it. She wondered if he had been rejected by girls in the past who weren’t okay with his amazing ability.
“Dude, I don’t care if you turn into a duck. I like you for you.” He smiled, clearly relieved.
“I like you too.” He paused and searched her face. “A lot.”
She snuggled in closer to him and pressed a kiss to his chest. “I like you a lot too.” She let herself be lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart beat.
It was two weeks before they managed to get enough time off to actually go on their camping trip. April demanded that they take her car, seeing as there was no way to safely pack all their things on the bike. Brett insisted that there was but eventually he gave in.
He wouldn’t let her drive though. They drove to a state park that he loved to spend time in. They hiked a couple miles before they reached the camp ground that he and his friends had used dozens of times before.
She helped him set up the tent. He couldn’t help but be turned on by her no-nonsense attitude about the tent, and helping him start the fire. It was one of his favorite things about her, her insistent need to help and not simply stand by and let other people do things for her.
She sat down on a log, and looked up at him. “So is this the part where you show me the shifter thing?”
He nodded. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Yep. I even looked up a video of a shift just so I would be prepared.”
“A video isn’t going to prepare you, darling. It’s a little intense to watch.”
“I can handle it,” she insisted.
“I know you can. We wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t.”
She took a deep breath and watched him strip down. He stood there, naked, and then it began.
He changed. It was amazing but terrifying to watch. He was right, the video hadn’t prepared her for anything. She could see his bones shift under his skin as he became a bear. He fell onto all fours, his body elongating at the same pace as his skull. Fur burst all over his body, covering him in a light brown down. He panted slightly as the change finished. The bear that was once Brett turned its head and looked at her. Something about his eyes were still all Brett.
“Hi,” she whispered. The bear snorted, and she assumed he was saying ‘hey’ right back. The bear, Brett, walked towards her. She instinctively stepped back and he stopped. “I’m good,” she promised. “It’s just, ya know, you’re a bear.” He nodded and then began to move forward again. She closed her eyes and then opened them when something warm and wet touched her hand. She slowly opened her eyes. Brett pushed his snout into her hand.
She let him sniff her for a moment before she was brave enough to reach out and touch him. She petted his head and rubbed behind his ears. He seemed to really like that. “You’re kind of adorable like this.” He made a snorting sound that very clearly communicated that he was not adorable. “You are though,” she continued. She ran her hands down the soft fur on his back. “Like a giant puppy.”
He snorted again and stepped back, away from her. “Oh, no! Don’t be mad!” She watched as he shifted back into his human form. It was less grisly that way.
There he stood in all his muscular, naked glory, looking at her like she was insane. “I’m not adorable. I am a terrifying bear.” She looked down, hiding a smile. He took two steps forward, covering the distance between them.
He scooped her up easily, and carried her to their tent. “Me girl, you man?” she joked as he set her down on the plush sleeping bags. Her eyelids fell shut as he began to caress her body.
“Something like that,” he said as he made quick work on her pants and shirt, pulling them off her with breakneck speed. “Or,” he said, kissing her. “Me man, you wife?”
Her eyes snapped open, and there was a ring sitting on her stomach. “Brett…” she looked at him, tears obscuring her vision.
“Marry me?” He must have been insane to ask her, she thought. They hadn’t been dating long. Hell, he had a ring. He planned this. But in her gut, she knew that he was the one. He would always be the one. And she wanted to spend the rest of her life fixing cars with him.
She sat up, slipped the ring on her finger, and threw her arms around him. “Yes,” she said, her heart pounding. “Of course.”
End.
HOOK, LINE AND SINKER TITLE PAGE
Hook, Line And Sinker
Fisherbears Book I
by
Becca Fanning
HOOK, LINE AND SINKER
Lila Ellis hunched over the bar top, scribbling notes on her napkin. Making inventory.
When the bartender offered Lila her drink—whiskey, straight, firmly middle shelf—she downed it in one long gulp, set it on the counter, and muttered, “One more of the same, thanks.”
On her napkin, she crossed out
$50
and wrote
$40
. That was all the cash she found in her camera bag when she upended it in the dim airport bathroom, muttering curses, scattering empty SD card cases across the counter. Her emergency stash. She almost felt guilty dipping into it.