Unbearable Heat (The Grizzly Next Door 2), page 12part #2 of The Grizzly Next Door Series
She stroked faster again, and as soon as he really got into it, she slowed to a near halt. “Tell me everything he said or I stop completely.”
She grinned in delight as he grimaced.
“And he likes you!” Seth said. “A lot.”
She stroked again and asked, “And what about you?”
“I love you,” he said. “Maybe I always have, and I just needed this dumb bear to get his lazy ass up and point out to me what has always been right in front of me.”
“Mmm,” Lily said, speeding up. “I like your bear, and I love you too.”
Seth leaned back, and Lily began to bless his hard dick with her full lips.
No! his bear said. You’re going to waste your...sperm...in her...mouth?”
It would feel so good, but he owed his bear, and he did have a strong urge to breed with his mate.
He moved her gently off his cock. She looked up at him in surprise, but before she could speak, he turned her over, slapped her ass, and threw her onto the bed.
It was bear handling time. She didn’t have to appreciate the joke, but he loved it.
She screamed in pleasure as he threw her down, and he was on top of her before she could get back up. He held her down with his forearm against her back, and he positioned his rock-hard dick, which was already wet with precum, up against her hole.
She was so wet and tight, and he could barely get it in.
Bearly, his bear said. I get the joke now!
He hit a mental mute button on his bear. He let his primal instincts wash over him, and the bear’s voice was silenced as he gripped Lily’s waste with animalistic longing.
She let out a moan, though he had not even entered her yet.
He pressed in and felt himself sink into her. Not too deep, not yet, but he wouldn’t be gentle. She was big and beautiful, and she was not some fragile toy. He would do with her as he wanted, and he knew Lily wanted the same thing he did.
She moaned into the pillow as he pushed farther in, and Seth’s whole body tensed and flexed as the pleasure shot through his nerves. It started in the impossibly warm and wet nexus of his cock, and soon he felt waves of ecstasy shoot through his chest and shoulders, and finally it released in a tingling bliss from his fingers and toes.
Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure through him. Each wave was more than he’d felt in an entire night with other women he’d been with. He knew where his heart belonged now, and his cock as well.
Lily’s hips bucked up, and primal lust overtook Seth. He snatched her off the bed and turned her to face him, and then he threw her up onto him, pressing himself back into her dripping wetness. He held her against his body, and her legs wrapped tightly around his back. He felt her calves rub against his rippling muscles, and he pinned her up against the wall.
He thrust again, and adrenaline surged through him, so he thrust faster still. Lily’s big breasts swung as if weightless as he pinned her to the wall, and her swollen nipples stuck out longer and harder than he’d ever thought possible.
She buried her head into his chest as his balls slapped against her. He was hitting her so deep with each thrust, and his dick was soaking wet with her cum. Surely some of the white-hot cum on him was his as well, but it was nothing compared to what was going to explode within her.
His thrusts and the pulsing tidal waves of ecstasy took on a sense of inevitability. No force in the world could stop them now, and they would swell until completion. Lily felt the same—he knew—as her inner folds began to convulse around his cock and her hips grounded and rocked along with him.
They needed to feel each other, and their bodies were doing everything they could to feel as much of each other as humanly possible. A new pressure built up inside him, and he could barely see through its thick veil. He felt every displacement of air, and his skin seemed to vibrate as he thrusted and thrusted. There were mere seconds left of this, and he’d get as many thrusts in as he could until he burst.
He didn’t count, but it was probably ten more times until the entire sensation concentrated itself in his dick, and it shot itself in thick streams up inside Lily. Inside his mate.
Could she feel it? Did she feel a transfer of pleasure in that moment?
He came and came, over and over. He couldn’t stop himself. It was the most he’d ever come at once in his life, and the more he thought about where it was going and what it was for, the more he came.
He heard Lily screaming and felt her writhe. She scratched his back with her nails, but the sharp pain was nothing but pleasure to him. When the last of his cum had filled her up, he collapsed backward onto the bed with Lily still atop him, he still inside her.
I’m going to have to propose soon, Seth thought, because if that didn’t get her pregnant, nothing will.
Seth hammered away at the wooden frame while the twins watched.
“You two are spoiled,” Lily said. “You know that, right?”
Sophie smiled widely and said, “Daddy just loves us, that’s all.”
“You’re only nine years old. How much privacy do you need?”
“All our friends have their own rooms!” Rose said. “And Dad likes building. Look at him!”
Lily looked at Seth, and she saw him smiling as the sweat dripped down his body. He whistled as he hammered, and Lily decided to go inside and make him a sandwich. It was just like old times, except she was now using bread that he’d baked.
“Come on, kids. Let’s go play inside.”
The twins followed her around to the door, and they spotted Lana’s car.
“Aunt Lana and Uncle Alex are here!” they screamed.
Lily went to go greet them. The twins would beg Alex to shift, but she’d have to warn Alex not to while Seth was building. The wind from his wings might knock some boards loose. She found it ironic that her firefighting husband had become such good friends with a fire-breathing dragon.
“How are things with you two?” Lily asked.
“Oh,” Alex said. His accent was always just noticeable but never too strong. “After everything that happened to get Lana and me together, I’m happy to say that things are just...dragon along.”
She winced at the awful pun, made all the more ridiculous by his accent, but then they laughed until they were out of breath.
She’d have to tell Seth about Alex’s winning sense of humor once he came down to eat.
Preview of Unbearable Curves: The Grizzly Next Door
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Effie Myers comes back to her home town, and women like her—big beautiful women with full curves—are disappearing. Terrified, Effie heads to the bar and runs into the boy next door, except he's not a boy anymore.
He's Abel Bjornson, a rugged cop rippling with muscles, and though Effie doesn't know it, he's a bear shifter. And he's just found his mate.
Effie wants nothing more than to fall into those big arms and wide chest, and—after a few dates—go much, much further than that.
Abel wants to explore every inch of Effie's luscious curves, but with Effie in danger, he has to focus: he's on the case of the disappearing women, and it looks like Effie is ne
Abel was always there for Effie when she was the girl next door, and now that he knows she's his mate, he'll have to use all of his police training and grizzly strength to keep her safe.
Buy for $0.99 or read FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
About the Author
Aya Morningstar lives in Denver, where she toils her days way in a drab office.
By night, Aya brings to life sizzling characters who will make you squirm.
She writes with a hot cup of early grey and her loyal werecorgi by her side.
Unbearable Curves: The Grizzly Next Door PREVIEW
Effie stood at the door to her mom’s Bed and Breakfast and drew in a deep breath. If she put the key in, turned it, and opened the door, it would feel like her decision was final. She hadn’t fully committed to taking this place over until she stepped inside. If she never went in, she could simply sell the whole thing and never look back.
But no, she couldn’t do that. Could she? How would her mom feel if she knew Effie just rinsed her hands of the family business? It was the business that her mom and dad put so much into for their whole lives, and it was a landmark of Oakgate. There were other Bed and Breakfast style hotels in Oakgate, but they had name’s like ‘Marta’s B&B,’ or ‘Bed and Breakfast and Biscuits.’ Her parents’—no, hers—was just called ‘Bed and Breakfast.’ If anyone in Oakgate mentioned ‘The Bed and Breakfast,’ they were talking about the place Effie grew up. She couldn’t sell something like that.
Maybe her mom would have understood that Effie was finally starting to crawl her way up the corporate ladder in the city. She’s started out as a lowly intern, slinging coffee and groveling. But Effie had proven herself reliable, and they’d hired her as secretary, and after a few years of that, she had just been on the cusp of taking on real responsibility. She even had just lined up an interview when someone from the sales team left and a position had opened up.
And then her mom had died.
It hurt to give that all up, but Effie had decided that it would hurt even more to throw away her family’s legacy. And that’s why she was here, standing in front of this door. In front of the full weight of all that responsibility. So if she had already made up her mind, why couldn’t she just go inside? Running her family business was just another way of being a businesswoman. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t earned it: she’d worked here every day after school and every summer.
She heard a loud drone approaching, and she saw Mr. Hofstead mowing the lawn next door. She worried he’d see her just standing at the door, not going inside or knocking—just standing there. Standing for how long now? Two minutes? Three? She really didn’t want to talk to him about her mom’s death, and she saw him glancing over at her. Soon she’d hear the lawnmower turn off, and it would be too late.
She slid the key in, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
Everything looked spotless, save for a thin layer of dust. Her mom hadn’t been sick; she’d just died suddenly. It made sense that everything would still be in order. The funeral had just been a few days ago, and Effie still didn’t really feel that her mom was gone. She knew logically that she was gone and that she’d never see her again, but she didn’t feel it. She knew that would come later, just like when she lost her father two years before this.
Effie looked through the house, and her mind started spinning out ideas. She didn’t want to change too much—this place was a landmark for a reason—but she was good at planning finances and optimizing a business. It was hard to look at the place and not have the gears in her head start to spin. Besides, she didn’t want to leave the place closed for too long. Still, she wasn’t in a total rush to have guests staying here again. She still needed to go through all of her mom’s things and decide what she should donate, and what she should keep. She didn’t look forward to that, because in her grief she wanted to keep everything.
Tomorrow Effie would get all the utilities put into her name, and take care of all the little hassles that added up to one big weight on her shoulders. Tomorrow.
Today she would just relax and miss her mom. She’d think of all the happy memories she’d had growing up here. Even though Effie now owned this house—this business—in her heart, it would always be her parents’ house.
She went to the grocery store, one of two or three in Oakgate. It was a small town, but not tiny. It was the kind of place where you wouldn’t see everyone you knew all the time, but just often enough that no one really felt like a stranger. Effie loved that about this place. The city was exciting, but she’d meet a cute guy at a coffee shop one day, and she’d smile at him, and he’d smile back. “Was he just being polite?” she’d wonder. She knew the only way to find out was to go up and talk to him, but then she’d let herself off the hook by promising herself she’d talk to him next time. In the city though, there never was a next time.
Effie bought some chicken—mostly because it was on sale—eggs, and other staples. She didn’t feel like cooking tonight, but she knew she would eventually. She felt like she was almost sleepwalking through the store. She knew she needed to buy certain things, to cook, to eat; but she didn’t want to do anything at all. It felt surreal to be back home, and she was somehow in denial that tomorrow would even arrive, that she would really need to do all the things necessary to re-open the Bed and Breakfast.
She ran into people she knew. People who knew her mom. They told her how sorry they were, gave her big, forced smiles, and tried to look sad for her. She thanked them and said it was okay, that she was dealing with it and would feel better soon. When she told them she would re-open the Bed and Breakfast soon, she smiled for real, and they did too. It was as if running her family’s business would somehow keep her parents alive, not just for her, but for the whole town.
It was already getting dark when Effie got home. She turned on the TV and started dusting. She still didn’t want to cook or eat, so she’d clean. Tired as she was, she had too much nervous energy to just sit down and watch TV, so cleaning would hopefully tire her out enough that she could get to bed early.
Just as Effie was spraying Windex onto that glass panel on her grandmother’s old clock, she heard “BREAKING NEWS!” from the news anchor on TV. Usually she’d ignore this kind of news, but it interrupted whatever gameshow was on in the background, and she heard ‘Oakgate’ and ‘serial killer’ mentioned in the same breath.
She put the spray bottle and cleaning rag down to go watch the TV.
She watched in horror as the anchorwoman reported with a grave and serious expression.
Women were disappearing in Oakgate, and the third had just recently disappeared. Pictures of all three appeared on the screen, and Effie noticed that—like her—all three women had some extra curves on their body. Didn’t serial killers usually target tiny blonde women? Not this one, apparently, he wanted women like Effie.
She felt her chest freeze, and she shuddered. None of the women had been found, and there were no witnesses or sightings of the killer. The only curious thing was that a panther had been spotted near the first and third woman’s apartment the night they were taken. Certainly a panther wasn’t making women disappear, so the panther was an irrelevant detail as far as Effie was concerned. Did the local news really find it necessary to try to drum up drama around what was already someone making women disappear?
And it was never just ‘the serial killer,’ always ‘the alleged serial killer.’ “Ah,” Effie thought, “It’s just an alleged serial killer targeting women that look exactly like me. I’ll just chill out with the door unlocked tonight then.” The news was always so gross and tacky.
Some things were too gross for alleged, even for the local news. Effie read between the lines: the women were disappearing, and she hated to even think what terrible things were happening to them between the time they disappeared and when their bodies would eventually be found.
The gameshow popped back on, and the tal
Effie was not smiling. She looked out the window and saw it was dark. She imagined what she would feel if she suddenly saw a panther walk by, like some kind of terrible omen.
No way. She was not going to stay at home tonight. She’d get the Bed and Breakfast open in the next few days, and she would not stay alone and defenseless in this big house all by herself.
She made sure the bottle of mace was still attached to her keychain, and she got into her car and just drove.
Before hearing the news of the serial killer, or rapist, or whatever he was; Effie hadn’t really wanted to see any of her old friends or be seen around town. Running into people at the grocery store had been enough for one night, at least until the serial killer. She felt completely different now, and she wanted to have a good time. To forget about being afraid.
She’d go to The Rabbit Hole. It was a good mix of high-end and low-end. They had nice cocktails, but they also had louder music and pool tables. She didn’t want to go to a dive bar, nor did she want to go to some snooty cocktail lounge where all the men were wearing dress shoes. And if she went to a really fancy bar, she’d have to wear a fancy dress, and that seemed like the worst thing to do with a killer running around. Like painting a target on her back. “Hey, look at my dress! See how it hugs my luscious curves and barely contains my big breasts? Don’t I look just like your ideal victim?”
AYA MORNINGSTAR SERIES:
Other author's books:
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