Her First Time With A Bear (BBW Shifter Romance) (16 page)

Paris held her mom close, for the first time she felt a connection with the woman who had given birth to her. Her mom had come back to her.

“Now, go. I'll look after things, Cindy can help. You go get your man.”

Paris nodded. Pulling the door open she went back out into the corridor, and straight back into the bar. Head held high, she saw the woman had got up and moved to the bar, Wes was busy trying to avoid her, by serving someone else. Paris noted he spilt the beer he was pouring, something he never did. He certainly had jangly nerves.

Looking up he caught her watching him, and planted the glass on the bar, only half full. The guy he was pouring it for began to protest. It was then that Shar slid behind the bar and whispered something to Wes, who nodded, and thanked her.

Then he was coming over the bar, the woman in the skimpy clothes smiled, she thought he was coming for her, but he simply brushed passed her as though she were invisible, and took Paris in his arms.

“I can explain,” he said, holding her close.

“I never doubted you could.”

He pressed his body against hers, and his hand fisted her hair, and then he kissed her. Paris was glad he held her so tight or else she would have slithered to the floor in a pool of jelly, because that was what her legs felt like now. Instead she gripped his muscular arms, and held on for dear life.

The bar went silent, and Paris knew they were all looking at them, locked together in their passionate clinch. Normally Paris would have been mortified to have so many people looking at her; centre of attention was something she absolutely avoided. But now she wanted them all to know, she wanted the world to know, but she especially wanted the skinny woman in the skimpy clothes to know, that Wes was her bear. And she was not going to share him.

They broke apart; Paris's face flushed pink from his kisses. He looked at her and she read the expression clearly.

“Shall we go upstairs, there's only so much I'm willing to do in public,” she said.

“Then we had better go now.” He grabbed her hand and led her from the bar, the noise behind them deafening as talk broke out again.

Paris reminded herself not to cry out when they made love; she did not want her mom hearing that, thank you very much.

To her surprise he didn't head upstairs. “Change of plan was all he offered.” Instead he led her outside, through the garden at the back of the bar, and out through a small gate. They kept going across the field beyond and into the woods.

She didn't need to ask where they were going, because she didn't care, as long as she was with Wes. Paris knew they had both made their choices, and although she had a lot to think about, and a lot to talk over with her mom, this moment was for them. It had been a very public statement by Wes, and it showed her how much he must care for her, and truly want to be with her. No other woman could make her jealous again.

“Can I change for you? Here, and walk with you deep into the woods where we can be truly alone.”

Paris nodded, holding her breath. He had never changed in front of her, although she had seen him twice now as a bear. He stood before her and stripped down until he stood naked in front of her. His perfect body, in the descending dusk, almost glowing to her eyes. He had an ethereal quality she had never noticed before, and she wondered if all shifters looked like that.

“Do women change, like you?” Paris asked.

“Yes, if it is in their blood.”

“And what does that mean. Do both parents have to be shifters for that side to be passed on?”

“No. Not always, there are some half bloods. Are you worried our children might shift?”

“No. If it happens, it happens. It's something my mom told me, earlier this evening.”

He had walked a little way away from her. Standing facing her, the air shimmering around him. “What did she say?” he asked.

Paris was mesmerised by every inch of him, he glowed, and shimmered all at the same time as though the essence of magic filled him completely. “Nothing,” she murmured, “I'll tell you later.”

All she wanted was to watch him change, to become her bear, that wonderful big furry creature that would protect her from harm.

He smiled, and let himself go, the air becoming charged with that same magic until it shimmered all around him, making his outline unclear. It wasn't so much jagged, his outline simply ceased to be. When it coalesced again, the creature standing before her was that now familiar bear, as much Wes to her as when he stood in human form.

Unafraid this time, she walked towards him with out stretched fingers, and touched his thick warm fur, burying her hand in it until she touched his skin. He shivered, a thrill of excitement running through him. He looked at her, and she smiled, before running off playfully in front of him. The big bear lumbered after her, and they ran like two playmates through the trees, all cares forgotten.

When at last they reached the stream which threaded through the valley, Paris collapsed on the forest floor laughing. In one smooth movement the bear charged towards her and changed midair into Wes, the human with the fantastic hands, and those hands were now roaming over her body, tugging at her clothes and almost ripping them from her body.

Her mood instantly changed, no longer filled with humour; instead a hunger for him had begun to consume her. Reaching up she ran her hands through his hair, drawing his face to hers and kissing him fiercely. He responded, his tongue probing her mouth while his fingers probed her sex. She lay naked beneath him, his body nestled between her thighs, and the grass beneath her back cushioned her body.

Already wet she longed to feel him inside her, and angled her body towards his. With a groan he moved his fingers, grasping his cock and rubbing the head against her wet entrance, lubricating himself with her juices, all the while teasing her, making her want him more.

Her hands slid over his back, and she ran her fingernails over his taut skin, a thing she knew sent him wild. It did the trick; he lifted her knee with one hand giving himself easier access, and then lunged into her, filling her, impaling her on his thick length. She dug her nails in deeper, holding onto him, pushing herself onto his cock.

Wes lost his control instantly; he thrust hard into her, his hand on her leg holding her in place so she could not move away when he lunged forward. Paris felt her sex stretch for him, trying to accommodate him, gripping him tightly as he moved. She put her hand on his butt, her fingers pressing into his toned muscles, urging him on to new heights.

He braced himself, his hand resting above her head, digging into the forest floor, his desperate cries filling the air. Paris lifted her head and kissed his chest, nipping his nipple with her teeth. He exploded inside her, and his total loss of control brought her to the brink and then pushed her over.

She buried her head into his chest, muffling the cries that escaped her. His cock pulsed inside her warm wet sex, and she matched him stroke for stroke, his equal as they lay there in the wild woods. Paris knew she would never change like he did, but there was a side of her that wanted to match him, to become one with him. He had claimed her, but she held a part of him that no other woman ever could. It was this passion that fuelled their lovemaking, and there was plenty left to burn.

They lay together while the stars rose above them. The canopy of trees, with their new spring leaves moved, swaying in the gentle breeze while he held her close to keep her warm. It was perfect, the two of them out here in the forest, side by side in these natural surroundings where he felt so at home.

It was Paris who broke the silence. “My mom told me a few things earlier that I had no idea about.”

“Oh, good things or bad?”

“Things about her past, about my past.”

He shifted his weight, turning to look at her, sensing the importance of her words. “Do you want to tell me?”

“I guess, but it stays between us right?”

“If that's what you want.” It was the first time she had ever asked anything of him, he knew he would not like what she had to say.

“It is. And you have to promise not to get mad, or anything.”

“I'm already not liking this.”

“She knows what you are,” Paris blurted out.

“Shit, Paris, you told her!” His anger and betrayal threatened to overtake him.

Paris sat up, and he sensed her hurt at his words, and he knew he was wrong before she spoke the words. “No. How can you think that?”

“I'm sorry Paris, you took me off guard. But if you didn't tell her, how else would she know?”

“She lived here before, twenty one years ago she conceived me here, in the cottage we live in now.”

For a long while he didn't say anything, and Paris let him stew on it, still cross with him.

“I was a kid here then. My Dad worked as a farm labourer, my mom worked in the bar. It's a bit hazy, but I remember most of the people from then, it helps that most of them still live here.”

“So not many leave?”

“Nope.”

“My father did. I don't know exactly when, soon after I was born I guess.”

“What was his name?”

“I don't know, she didn't say. I'll ask her though.”

She shivered, and he kissed her shoulder, saying, “You're cold, we should get back.”

“I'm fine, honestly.”

“No. Let's get back, you have school tomorrow, and you need to have a good nights sleep.”

“OK, Mom.” She laughed when he pulled a face at her. But he was more like a proper mom than Shar was, always checking if she was getting her work done. It was nice to have someone care that much.

She got up, and he helped her get her clothes together. Then, with a lot of kissing and touching her helped her put them back on.

“Why are you called Paris?” he suddenly asked.

“I'm not sure. I always thought it was because my mom liked the place, but she's never mentioned it, never talked about it or planned to go there. You know my mom, it could be any reason. Perhaps she met someone from Paris at the time I was born, and named me on a whim.”

“That's what I was thinking.” His memories were still hazy, but there was a man he vaguely remembered from his childhood. A shifter, what was he? Wes would have to give it some more thought. It was like reaching through a mist that continued to shift as soon as you grasped at the edge of an idea, allowing it to slip away.

“What is it, Wes?”

“Your father, I think I might know who he was.”

“You're joking!”

“No, there was someone, when I was younger. Talked funny, I couldn't always understand him.” Wes shook his head trying to clear the fog. He might have to go and talk to that witch Selena, this felt like witch magic to him. Or maybe he was paranoid.

“French?”

“I don't know. But if it was him, you could have taken the shifter gene from him.” That thought had come through loud and clear.

“But I can't shift, not like you.”

“No. But then we only get the gift when we come of age.” Wes was feeling excited now, maybe Paris would know what it was truly like to have two natures.

“Come of age?” Paris asked nervously.

“Yes, Paris. When is your birthday?”

“September.”

“Then I guess we will have to wait. Twenty one is the magic number.”

“You can't be serious?”

He pulled her into his arms. “I am.” His voice had a hint of excitement, although he tried to cover it.

She pulled away from him. “I wish I hadn't told you.”

“Why?” He was confused. Surely she should be excited too.

“Because now you have this expectation of me. What if I disappoint you?”

Now he saw where she was coming from. “Paris. You could never disappoint me. It doesn't matter. I still love you, you are still my mate. That will never change.”

Then he kissed her, pouring all his love and need into that connection, trying to prove to her, convince her that his words were from his heart, and that heart belonged to her. Their bond was too strong to simply be broken; it would last forever and eternity now they were one.

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