Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance Page 7

  Nick's eyes beamed into mine. I walked backwards with him guiding me, stepping carefully into the shower.

  He stopped to grab the soap and crank on the water. The sleek shower head sprayed, hurling its droplets over us, but mostly across every rock hard inch of him.

  Nick moved to the wall and clasped his hands behind his head. “Work me over, Lyla. I'm giving you my trust.”

  Yes!

  Snapping to attention, I grabbed the bar of soap, trying not to get too distracted by the aching sight of water jets screaming across his muscles. The streams exploded, showering his hard peaks and valleys, rolling down slabs of muscle in purifying rivulets.

  He deserved this. And so did I, especially after all we'd suffered.

  I lathered him up myself, starting at his neck and moving to his shoulders. He turned, letting me get his back good and deep. A satisfied growl burbled up from his throat as I massaged his body, admiring the endless hard hills and dips between pure granite.

  When I came to his ass, I squeezed. His cheeks were so hard, so wonderful, so strong.

  They rippled beneath my hands. My nails teased his skin, scratching where his glutes met his back thighs. He groaned and growled.

  I moaned, tasting a few stray water droplets on my tongue. I leaned in behind him, drawing my hands to his hard abs around the front, kissing his neck.

  This morning, this gorgeous skinwalker was mine. Sure, I'd vented all over him on the drive last night.

  But I was tired, conflicted, half-crazed with fear.

  He was a man, and men made tough decisions. He'd saved me. The fact that I was alone with him in this cozy lodge, not dead and buried in a pit, proved it.

  It was a new day. I had to show him how much I appreciated what he'd done for me.

  Besides, admitting mistakes always feels best with flesh and senses blazing.

  I lathered his front, slowly urging him to turn back to me. Halfway through his pivot, I pushed one hand lower, wrapping it carefully around his cock.

  His breath hitched. He turned, giving himself fully to my hands.

  In my fingers, I discovered how big he was, swollen to perfection and throbbing just for me. I felt him in the beat of his blood, man and beast, starved for a woman's attention.

  I stroked him once, all the way to the tip. Soap trickled off him, moving with my hands, coating his finest heat in a wet hot stroke just slightly less magnificent than my own.

  Nick locked eyes on me and watched as I stroked him again and again. My hand rolled to his large balls, then back up, steady flicks rolling to his thick tip.

  “Faster,” he urged, placing his hand on mine to show me how he liked it.

  I flushed. No one had ever given me any guidance like this.

  I held my bottom lip, tense with the new lust driving through me. Stroking him harder, faster, I formed a tight pocket with my small fist, covering his length in hard, quick pleasure strokes.

  Impulse forced my lips to his hard, slightly hairy thigh. I kissed him, licking at the water.

  He never expected me to move up so soon.

  Water poured through my hair, turning it wet and warm, a silent urge to draw him deep into my mouth. I licked his head, a quick test, then sank down on his length, as far as my lips would carry me.

  Nick grunted, increasing his grip on my shoulders. I sensed his whole body harden, and his cock jerked once against my rolling, teasing tongue.

  “Fuck!” He bared his teeth.

  Go ahead, honey. Let it all out. I like to feel it when I'm doing something very right.

  I sucked him harder, loosening my mouth to take him more easily. Nothing about sucking his fullness was really easy, but the work was well worth it.

  Anything was to see him twitch and growl like that.

  His hips rocked forward. My hands sauntered up to his ass, discovering his cheeks were clenched harder than ever, readying to expel the explosion building beneath his length.

  “Shit! Gods, Lyla...your tongue...make me fucking come. Just don't stop, no matter how much I grind and twist.”

  I wouldn't dream of it.

  He opened his mouth like he wanted to speak again, but no words came out. My lips ringed his cock, going down deep, down to the base beginning to stiffen and balloon.

  Come shot up a second later, giving me less than a second to react.

  His size grew in my mouth, pumping his hot, thick sap along my tongue, a mouthful in every savage jerk. Bestial thunder rumbled from his mouth, dredged up from the current tearing through him.

  Music to my ears. So was the tempo I somehow managed to keep up, matching his primal rhythm to mine.

  I gulped his come, drawing his essence deep inside me, though I secretly wished it were flowing somewhere else.

  You have to fight that urge. The last thing you need is a baby on the run.

  Still, just having him buried deep inside my mouth was privilege enough.

  The great flood became a soft trickle, and then slowed to nothing. He softened, pulled out. I swallowed the last of his seed, engraving his spicy, masculine taste on my memory forever.

  His strong fingers went beneath my chin. He cradled it, tilting my face up to look at him.

  “That was perfect, Lyla. And from a woman like you, I'd expect nothing less than perfection.”

  I stood up. We embraced for a long time, stroking and kissing, taking the world's longest shower.

  Just now, the world's dangers might as well have been on the moon.

  We had the whole world to ourselves in this lodge, a world made for nobody but him and I.

  “Sir? You ready for a chat?” Nick stood next to me.

  “I told you once, young man. Call me Tuts. And yes, I am.” The old Indian man smiled behind the counter.

  It was late, about an hour after dinnertime. Not that it mattered much because there was exactly one other couple staying at the lodge who we'd seen.

  Tuts walked into the backroom and spoke in a language I couldn't understand to the young woman there.

  “You sure about this?” I asked, looking up at my man.

  “Completely. I have to find out what he knows. He agreed to talk to us.”

  “Us?”

  “I told him about your interest in local history. I want you there, Lyla. If anyone deserves to be at my side, it's you. Bears never forget anyone who shares their sorrows.”

  He took my hand. His fingers were warm and tight, but his pulse was steady and peaceful.

  “It's just...this thing.” I shifted my free arm, shuffling the heavy round artifact I held there. “How could he possibly know anything about it? You sure we're showing this to the right person?”

  Nick's face tightened. Neither of us liked it when I doubted him.

  “I never told him what we had. Hell, neither of us really know what it is either, except that it must be valuable. I doubt he'll have much to add, but it won't hurt to try. It's not like I'm gonna let some old man overpower me and steal that thing again.”

  Well, there was no arguing with that. Tuts returned to the desk a second later, the young woman around my age in tow.

  “My granddaughter will take over. Let's go. Right down the hall on this floor, second room on the right.”

  He walked fast and steady for someone who had to be at least eighty years old. We followed.

  The old man's private room looked like a museum. We sat around a glass table, flanked on all sides by animal bones, dark stones, dream catchers, and thick quilts on the walls glowing with all the vibrant hues of the American West.

  “Let's get down to business.” Nick's voice was dark and curious. “I want to know who the hell you are, and how you seem to know what's going on with us.”

  Tuts laughed. At last, he showed a small sign of his age – what few teeth he had were whittled down to tiny stumps.

  “I'd know a bear from a mile away.” Tuts paused, giving us plenty of time to stare with dumb interest. “You've come to escape something terrible. I am onl
y trying to help. You too, young lady.”

  His deep, dark brown eyes fell on me. I shifted uncomfortably across the table, managing a weak nod.

  “I saw the pictures,” Nick said. “You must be over a hundred years old. Or else you look exactly like the last guy who ran this place. Which is it?”

  “Right the first time. It was the old Montana Clan who taught me the secrets to long life.” He reached for a thermos on the edge of the table and poured himself a dark green tea, indulging a long sip.

  “Didn't know there was a Montana Clan. We haven't had any contact for generations.” Nick leaned forward, suddenly intent on the conversation.

  “Their traders came in my father's time. I got to know several men quite well. They offered me longevity, old bear magic that can sustain a man's life, just like a bear's.”

  “Impossible!” I piped up, shaking my head. “Shifters are genetically different from people. Their genes cause them to age more slowly. They can't pass that along to a human being.”

  Somehow, my words sounded uncertain. Flat.

  “Whatever you believe, young lady. Your science has been wrong many times.” Tuts flashed me that empty smile, clearly amused at my confusion.

  “Doesn't matter. We didn't come here to talk about cheating death. What can you tell us about this?.” Nick looked at me and gestured.

  I lifted the sphere to the table and slowly unwrapped it. Even in his dark apartment, flecks of jade green paint showed brighter than others, almost like it were coated in emerald or some other earthy material.

  Tuts leaned in and stared at it. He reached for the ball, touching his withered fingers to its cool surface, caressing it like it was one of his own grandchildren.

  “Well?” Nick flexed his hands on the table, obviously impatient.

  “A destiny stone. My, my, my!” Tuts inhaled sharply, holding his breath. “I have not seen one of these in ages, and only one long ago. Traveling bears from Canada brought theirs once, on their way south to retrieve a mate for their king.”

  “King?” Nick and I spoke the loaded word in a whisper simultaneously.

  “Yes. Your people have no leader?” Tuts came very close to looking surprised.

  “No, Klamath has its leaders, but no king. Never did. Our Elder Council's been running things as long as I've been alive.”

  Tuts' wrinkles softened. His face relaxed, deep and contemplative.

  “Wanna tell us what that's got to do with that thing on the table?” I pointed. Nick's impatience was wearing off on me.

  “These stones were forged many ages ago, when all bears were in the same clan. Long before man ever came to this continent – even my people. Skinwalkers lived here first with tall glaciers and ferocious mammoths, heaved up by nature, the true beings the spirits mean to rule this wild land.”

  We listened silently. Legend or not, at least his beliefs were...interesting.

  “Destiny stones were built by master craftsmen and handed off to each group of settlers. Every tribe had its Alpha, its king, a supreme bear to guide his people. Clan kings are second only to the King of Kings who ruled the original tribe. Of course, you know there has been no King of Kings for many eons...”

  Nick shook his head. I eyed the shocked mask on his face, more than a little amused.

  He doesn't know his own history. Then again, what do I know? This is a total retelling of everything I thought I knew about the Klamath Bear Clan, or whatever came before them.

  Government records and folksy old diaries weren't exactly forthcoming and thorough about bear history.

  “Guess we know why it's so valuable now,” Nick said to me.

  “Yes, very valuable indeed, young man.” Tuts slurped more tea. “In its rightful hands, this stone is a symbol of a king's authority over his clan. To challenge an Alpha bloodline with this stone, this proof, is to challenge the gods.”

  Ugh. Now I really regret trying to steal and sell this thing.

  I really did. My heart throbbed when I looked at Nick. I watched him carefully wrap the stone up and drag it across the table to his lap.

  “You're not going to rat on us, are you? I swear my clan has no king. We found this, buried outside an old dig site. Klamath's Elders have been trying to get in touch with their history lately.”

  “Any skinwalker who calls himself an elder should already know the past,” Tuts said. “Your people have grown strange. Out of touch with themselves and their nature. I suggest you do some research so you can bring it to them.”

  “Just how the hell are we supposed to do that?” I folded my arms. “I've read everything available about the Klamath Bear Clan since I was a girl.”

  Tuts smiled, but this time stopped short of showing us his worn teeth. He got up, went to an old bookshelf in the corner, and came back clutching a gigantic book that looked like an old Bible.

  “Hold out your hands,” he told me. “You may have read much, but I doubt you have ever read this.”

  The book weighed a ton. I scuttled to get it on the table.

  Its cover was just as worn as the old yellowed pages sticking out between the hard shell. A Chronicle of the Ursus Arctos Skinwalkers and Their Traditions, the title read.

  I carefully opened the cover and thumbed to the front page. The same title, an author name I didn't recognize, and then the date below it.

  “1916,” I said, more than a little impressed. “This is one old book.”

  “And one of a kind,” Tuts added. “The Montana bears told me they only had two more copies when they gave it to me. Must've been almost thirty years ago. None of them have returned for many years.”

  I flipped to the table of contents. Nick looked over my shoulder, following my finger as I traced it down the page, searching for Oregon, Northern California, Klamath.

  “There! Holy shit. There's something in here about your clan after all.”

  Nick furrowed his brow. He looked at Tuts.

  “Can she borrow this?”

  “As long as it never leaves this lodge.” Tuts watched my hands shaking.

  I gently closed the book and held it tight to my chest. Against all the odds, we'd truly come to the right place.

  Maybe there was more to that whole destiny stone thing than just a name.

  “I'll return it safely just as soon as I can,” I told the old Indian. “Ready for a history lesson, Nick?”

  My lover smiled. “Didn't have much of that in school, and can't say I enjoyed it. But I'm willing to make an exception with the right instructor. Helps that it's a damned good cause too.”

  “Read it together,” Tuts said. “You, young lady, should take the lead. A man with no past is usually shocked at what he finds. For your friend here, this will be like finding his own father.”

  Nick's face darkened. Surely, Tuts couldn't have known about his personal life. Except that really hit home.

  I read it on his face, his posture, his expression. I stood, hoping I'd be able to lug the book upstairs without breaking my back.

  “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Nick. Let's find out what they've been keeping from you.”

  “Yeah,” he said, grabbing the artifact. “Thanks for your hospitality, Tuts.”

  The old Indian nodded. He stood near the table as we made our way to the door. I felt his eyes on my back until we closed the door, mysterious and heavy, the same as the monstrous volume in my hands.

  “Gods!” Nick paced to the window, peeled back the curtains, and stared out at into the encroaching darkness.

  I didn't blame him one bit.

  The big old book held an entire chapter about the Klamath Bear Clan, an offshoot of an older northern shifter branch who'd migrated down from British Columbia.

  “It's amazing, isn't it?” I whispered.

  “What?” He turned, showing me the fires blazing in his narrowed eyes. “The fact that our whole damn history has been buried and forged? Those assholes told us we'd been near Klamath forever.”

  “You coul
dn't have known...nobody could...”

  “And here I thought we were supposed to be concerned about humans coming in and taking our artifacts. The real thieves were right under our fucking noses.”

  Sadness spread through my heart. No, he was right to take a jab at humankind again, and indirectly at me for stealing their treasures.

  The Klamath Elders had already taken so much, only to have nosy, desperate humans like myself hitting them from the other side.

  I tried to push down the lump in my throat. Tried, and failed.

  “Why are you crying, Lyla?” He came over, pulling me into his arms.

  “I regret the way we met. I regret everything that came before too! I'm just like those assholes in the records here: settlers, prospectors, government goons. Just one more human female using shifters to her own ends.”

  “The pain goes both ways. You read it yourself.” He squeezed my shoulders, burying my face against his shield-like chest. “Your father's just one example. We killed plenty, and not always in self-defense.”

  “Yes, but it was your land, your property that's been taken. No shifter armies ever occupied whole kingdoms or ransacked human cities.”

  “Who can say?” He shrugged. “I'm sure the history goes back a lot further than what's in this book. We're lucky to have anything at all. All I know is, in Klamath the betrayal came from our own fucking kind, and continues to this day.”

  I lifted my head, nodding. He was right about that. The history book proved it.

  The first pack of criminals had been Branson's own father, Theodore. It was during a difficult time for the Klamath Clan, just after the century flipped over.

  King Alexander couldn't feed his people. Grazing off the land wasn't easy anymore with fierce droughts and more humans moving in by the year. Their territory was shrinking, and the Klamath bears would've seen their numbers halved if it wasn't for trade deals with the local humans.

  Then the humans saw their chance, and so did Theodore.

  Overnight, the trade deals ended. Human settlers demanded more land, more resources, more access to clan property. Old Theo was willing to give it to them.

  It was a familiar chain of events, and surprisingly human too. I'd always been amazed at how quickly an empty belly and an enterprising traitor could create a revolution.