Alpha’s Prey: A BBW Bear Shifter Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 11)
Alpha’s Prey: Chapter 9

Caleb

I hardly sleep at all, which is unheard of for me, especially in winter. It’s like my bear thinks it’s summer or something. He’s happy.

I mean really happy. Who knew all he needed was to bang a pretty scientist?

Even my guilt can’t take away his joy.

Fuck, I’m downright chipper as I slip out of bed at the crack of dawn and start the coffee machine. A half hour later I’ve prepped everything necessary to make salmon, spinach and cream cheese omelets and I have potatoes and onions sautéing on the stove.

“Oh my God, it smells amazing in here.”

I turn to watch Miranda’s entrance. She comes out in her tank top and my sweat pants, dog trotting at her feet. She’s adorably disheveled, her thick hair a mess from the hard fucking I gave her last night, her green eyes bright against cheeks flushed with sleep. It surprises me that the words that rise to my lips are You look beautiful.

Not appropriate by any means. I mean, not inappropriate either, but we aren’t dating. We had sex as a proof of possibilities, nothing more. I can’t go acting like she’s my girlfriend suddenly.

That doesn’t stop my cock from thickening at the way her braless breasts shift under her tank top. I’m suddenly imagining shoving that tank top up and pouring honey all over her tits, just so I can thoroughly lick it off.

She must catch my vibe, because her nipples harden and her breath catches. I catch the musk of her arousal, even across the scent of the food.

“I slept like a rock,” she says with an embarrassed laugh.

“Good sex will do that to you.”

“Yeah.” Another chuckle. She pushes her hair out of her face. “You don’t have to convince me anymore. I’m a convert. You don’t possibly rent out your services or anything, do you?” She face flushes a deeper pink, like she can’t believe she suggested it.

And now I’m harder than marble. “Well, I’m happy to provide you with another, you know, data set or two. I mean, for your research.” My voice comes out rougher than normal.

Her nipples protrude even more.

Her lids droop. She takes two steps closer, her hands sliding up her ribs to cup her breasts.

Fuck. Me.

I’m on her in a flash. I probably moved shifter fast without meaning to. I grab her arms and spin her around until her back hits my fridge. It rattles from the impact. My lips descend onto hers, capturing her full mouth, hell, declaring fucking war on it. I press my hard body right up against her soft, forgiving one, grind my erection into her belly.

She moans, clutching my biceps for dear life.

I shove my hand unceremoniously down the front of her sweatpants and cup her pussy. She’s juicy wet. One finger sinks into her heat without me even trying.

She kisses me back, mouth moving frantically over my lips, tongue twining with mine.

“I’m gonna fuck you right up against this refrigerator,” I growl, lifting one of her legs and placing it around my waist. “Do I need consent for that?”

“You have it,” she pants and slides her hands up the inside of my shirt, pawing my pecs.

“You’re beautiful.” I say it now. Because it should be said. She deserves to hear it often and I get the feeling she hasn’t.

I unbutton my jeans and free my cock as I twist my lips over hers in another brutal kiss. I yank her sweats to the floor, dropping to my haunches in the process and taking a long lick of her nectar.

“Oh!” Her hips jerk and loll, her bare ass making a warm print on my refrigerator.

I dismiss any notion of going slow and doing this thing properly. My bear needs to fuck her again, and she wants it, so I’m just going for gold here. I stand up and spear her with my erection.

Her green eyes widen and lift to my face. I have to bend my knees, but I lift her leg higher, hooking it over my forearm for better access. It tips her pussy toward me and opens her like a flower. I sink into her delicious heat, drill all the way in. The refrigerator thuds against the wall, condiment jars rattle against the shelves. I love the way her surprised gaze stays glued to mine, like she doesn’t want to miss anything. Or needs more of a clue about what’s happening. Her innocence should make me want to be gentle and go slow, but it doesn’t.

It makes me want to fucking devour her.

Consume her.

I’m the predator and she’s my prey. My next meal.

I thrust up hard, make her breath hitch each time I slam my hips against hers, slam her ass into the fridge, the fridge into the wall. She lets out a tiny whimper and I dial it back.

“You okay, Doctor?”

“Fuck, yes,” she bursts out, making me laugh.

“Good,” I rumble. “Because I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t walk straight.”

“I-I think you already accomplished that,” she gasps, laughter and lust mingled in her melodic voice.

“You’re going to take it because you know I’ll make you feel good. Don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, Caleb.”

I love hearing my name in those passionate tones. I find her asshole with the middle finger of the arm that’s holding up her leg.

She gasps and her pussy gushes fresh lubricant.

“You’ll even let me take you here when I decide to,” I taunt her. I don’t know why I have to trash talk, but she responds with a moan-cry that sounds like she’s about to come.

“Aw, that makes you hot, doesn’t it, Doctor?” I massage her anus, slap it lightly, all the while I’m fucking her so hard I’m in danger of sending the refrigerator straight through the wall to the outside. And the walls of this cabin are solid logs.

“You want me to fuck this tight little hole?” I continue to lightly slap her anus with a couple fingertips.

“Oh my Gawd.”

Heat flushes through my body. My teeth lengthen like I want to give her a mating bite. I’d better come soon or this could end badly.

“You ready to come, Doctor? Are you gonna scream my name when you do?”

“Yes, Caleb, yes.” I pound into her with unforgiving strokes, making sure she feels every inch of me, learns what it means to take giant shifter cock.

“Scream it,” I command, fucking her into oblivion.

“Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, ohmygod, yes! Yes, Caleb!”

I shove deep and come as her walls squeeze and tighten around my manhood. My bear roars in satisfaction. Or maybe that was me. All I know is the gratification shooting through my entire body, pouring well-being through my limbs like a healing balm. My emotions soothed, my mind calmed to a state of stillness.

My vision clears and I realize I still have her pinned against the fridge, shuddering and panting, her large breasts sliding against my chest with each breath.

I let go of her leg first, but don’t pull out. It changes the angle of entry, enhancing the feeling of still being seated deep inside her. Then, reluctantly, I ease out. “You okay?”

“Uh huh.” She licks her lips. Her knees buckle and she gives a shaky laugh. “But I don’t think I can stand.”

“I’ll hold you up, baby. I’m not gonna let you fall.” I kiss her temple. It’s an affectionate gesture—different from the raw sex we just had. It feels wrong. No, that’s not true. It felt right, that’s why I did it.

But I want to make it wrong. I need to make it wrong. Because I am not wooing this lovely female to be my mate. I am simply pounding out a carnal desire with her. Nothing more.

She doesn’t want more.

I don’t want more.

End of story.

She holds onto my arms for a moment, then Bear whines by the back door, and she gives me a gentle shove away.

I bend to pick up her sweats and hand them to her. “Hungry?”

Her smile brightens the entire kitchen. “Famished.”

Miranda

Holy snowballs. I now understand the term “the throes of passion.” It’s when your body takes over your brain and you’ll do anything to get satisfaction.

And I definitely got satisfaction. My mountain man is a freaking beast.

Like serious man-beast. How could I have not thought sex was fun?

Ew, because I had the lamest partners in the history of copulation, that’s how.

I yank on Caleb’s sweatpants, walk to the door and pull it open for Bear, then shriek as snow tumbles in. Bear wags his tail like the snow is a friend who wants to play. It’s drifted almost to the top of the door, but there are six inches of daylight there, and the sun streams right into my eyes.

There’s nowhere for Bear to go, so he pees on the top step, where the overhang kept the snow from falling.

Caleb appears behind me and slaps my ass. “I guess it stopped.”

“Um, how do we get out?”

His chuckle is low and sexy. “Guess we’ll have to tunnel our way through it.”

Oh. Wow. It sounds so fun when he says it. Like it’s a game we’re going to play. Right before we build snowmen and an igloo.

I shut the door and throw down the towel he used last night to soak up the snowmelt all over the floor.

Caleb’s already headed to the kitchen where he washes his hands and then breaks eggs into a bowl.

I saunter over, drawn like a magnet to his body. “Whatcha making?”

“How do you feel about a salmon omelet?”

“Oh my God, are you serious? It sounds like something I’d die for.”

He turns and pins with me a dark stare. “Too soon.”

I laugh.

“No dying on my watch.”

Warmth blooms in my chest. In my cheeks, too. I guess I’m blushing. Caleb grunts that my omelet is ready.

I take the plate from him, which is piled high with potatoes and the best-looking omelet I’ve ever seen. “Thank you. I’m so excited. I’ve never had a salmon omelet.”

Caleb’s eyes crinkle.

It’s my new favorite thing.

I sit to eat while he returns to the stove to cook a second omelet. “So you really like fish? I would’ve thought a guy like you would be more of a red meat kind of man.”

Caleb shrugs. “I eat red meat. But I like to fish, so I eat fish.”

It’s such a straightforward answer from a straightforward man. I may have found him grumpy at first, but at least he never plays games. His intentions are always clear. I like that about him.

I get up and serve myself coffee, enjoying the comfortable way he moves over and lets me in. Like I belong here. Or I’m welcome. Like we’re roommates—with benefits.

That actually makes me smile.

I start humming to myself as I pour the two cups of coffee and add milk and sugar to mine. I noticed he took his black yesterday.

He sits down with his finished omelet and we eat together in a companionable silence—so different from yesterday’s awkward conversation gaps.

“So do you think I’ll get back to my cabin today?”

Caleb snorts. “Doubtful,” he says with his mouth full of food. “Depends on how bright that sun shines today. There’s a lot of snow that needs melting first. I don’t think we’ll manage to tunnel all the way there.” His eyes crinkle again with a smirk and my heart does a little flutter.

Wow. Thirty-six hours and I’m falling in love.

No! I can’t fall in love. This is just about sex. And research. And I hate men, anyway.

Except sex politics mean nothing in this cabin. There’s no status or posturing or trying to prove I’m as worthy. He insists on calling me Doctor, for God’s sake. Definitely not a man who’s intimidated by my degree or intelligence.

We’re just two people stuck in a cabin together.

We finish eating and I shower, then put on the clothes I was wearing when he rescued me. When I come out, I find Caleb wasn’t kidding. He’s already started tunneling out the front door and has cut a path about two feet wide and ten feet out. The snow walls are taller than I am. Bear barks with joy, running out into the snow and wagging his tail.

I laugh, my own joy matching his. It’s like our own Dr. Zhivago. A beautiful winter wonderland. Caleb moves with fluid grace and apparent ease, using a shovel to toss snow a full five feet to the banks on either side. I stop and watch his muscular ass in his jeans, admire the power behind his movements.

After a minute, I touch Caleb’s back. “Want me to take over?”

He’s wearing a knit cap, but otherwise isn’t overly bundled. I suppose shoveling is hard work. His forehead wrinkles with what appears to be incredulity and he frowns. “Ah, no, Doctor. No disrespect, but I got this.” There is a touch of pompous sexism in his words, but instead of offending me, they warm me. Because I can tell he thinks giving me the shovel would be unchivalrous.

And I’m happy to let him be the man in this instance. Especially when he looks so good doing it.

“Well, thanks. Where are you heading?”

He lifts his chin. “I should hit my truck soon, unless I’m off.” He looks up at the trees and back at the house. “No, the truck should be up here in ten feet or so.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’m going to dig it out and see if the plow will work. It’s a big truck, but I don’t think I’ve ever plowed anything this deep.”

Oh thank God. He has a plow. Of course he does. It fits the mountain man / construction crew vibe.

“And if it doesn’t?” I don’t know why I’m asking so many questions, but I’m so out of my element here. I’m completely at the mercy of his knowledge and expertise. I can’t go anywhere unless he gets me there.

“Then I carry you back into that cabin and give you a few more lessons for your research.”

My pussy squeezes. “What kind did you have in mind?”

He stops shoveling and tilts his head. “Bondage. Anal. More spanking.”

It’s like he lit a match and tossed it into a puddle of fuel. Heat explodes in my core, flames lick my inner thighs, my asshole, my nipples.

“Maybe some edging.”

“What’s that?” My voice warbles. I’m not afraid, but a tremor of nerves ripple through me.

“That’s where I keep you on the brink of an orgasm but don’t let you come.”

“That sounds… horrible!” I complain.

“Nah. When you finally do come, it’ll be so good you’ll be sobbing at my feet.”

My pussy clenches again and my face flushes red. It should sound egotistical. He’s suggesting I would be on my knees—submissive to him. But the matter-of-fact way he presents it, makes me believe it’s true. I would be on my knees, begging for more. And I’d probably love every minute of it.

“I-I don’t think you have consent for that.” I’m getting flustered, a trait I normally judge myself into oblivion for, but when Caleb’s lips quirk up, my insecurities fall away.

“We’ll see.” He returns to shoveling.

I grab the snow from the wall beside me and form a snowball to lob at him. It strikes square in his back.

He doesn’t turn around. I’m not sure he even felt it. Smothering a giggle, I ball up another one, tossing this one at the back of his head. It hits his neck.

I wince, imagining how awful it must feel to have snow fall down the back of his collar, but he only twitches a shoulder. “You must really want that spanking,” he rumbles without turning or pausing in his shoveling.

Now I giggle out loud. I ball up a snowball and pitch it at his head again. I miss, but Bear chases and tries to catch it in his mouth, coming back with snowflakes falling from his lolling tongue.

“Come on, Bear, let’s see what it takes to get the mountain man to turn around,” I tease, forming another snowball.

Caleb turns, amusement dancing on his face. “Baby, you throw another snowball, I’m gonna toss you in that snowdrift.”

I run, launching myself at his body in an attempt to tackle him into the snow. The fact that I’m not worried about hurting him, or him freaking out about having a rather big-bodied woman fly through the air at him is a testament to just how manly I think he is.

The fact that my full weight hitting him from two feet away doesn’t barrel him over is a testament to how bad-ass he truly is.

He catches me, a full laugh rumbling out of his chest as I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze for all I’m worth. It feels amazing to be held this way. Like I weigh nothing. Like my size isn’t too big, too hefty to lift. Like he’s enjoying the close contact.

Bear jumps at Caleb’s feet, as if this is a game he wants to play, too.

“Now you’re gonna get it.” His dark eyes are intent on my lips.

“Oh yeah?” I breathe.

His smile has a trace of wickedness to it. “Definitely.” He starts trudging back to the cabin, carrying me like I’m as light as a kitten. “We weren’t going to get out of here today, anyway. I just didn’t want to break it to you yet.”

Well, that’s sweet.

“Thanks for trying.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You don’t know what punishment I have in store for you.”

Flutters of excitement zoom through me. I’m getting more sex than a newlywed here and it’s like my whole body’s coming alive. I feel sexy for the first time in my life. I want sex. I want to strut my stuff. I’m willing to open myself to a man.

And it doesn’t feel scary.

Maybe I feel safe because it’s short term. This little adventure is encapsulated by the time I’m snowed in here. And if it extends beyond that, it would only be the few more days I’m up in Pecos. After that, I go back to Albuquerque and he stays here. End of story.

Don’t think about that part.

Caleb carries me to his bed and drops me in the middle. Bear follows, prancing around Caleb’s heels until Caleb sternly tells him to leave the room and my dog immediately obeys.

“Get naked,” he orders me like he ordered my dog. He shucks his jacket, shirt and boots so I have that very fine view of his tattooed chest, ripped abs and the V of muscles heading southward into his jeans.

“Excuse me?” I have to take exception to his bossiness.

“Ten seconds, sweetheart. Or there will be consequences.”

Flutters in my tummy. Okay, that sounds exciting.

“What kind of consequences?”

He grins. “The spanking kind.”

The flutters burst into a shower of sparks and heat cascades through my limbs. Before I even make the rational decision to obey him, I’m stripping off my clothes.

Caleb opens his dresser and pulls out a long, green sock.

I lift a brow, covering my breasts—or at least my nipples—with my forearm.

He climbs over me, with no ceremony—all business—and grasps my wrists. A tug and a few quick movements and he’s tied me to his headboard with the sock.

Who knew socks had such creative uses?

I tug. I can probably slip out of it, but I don’t want to. I love all the responsibility for this interlude lying squarely on his shoulders. Like the other times—he’s showing me something. I don’t have to perform, compete or do. My insecurities don’t crop up or creep in. In fact, they all slip away because he makes me feel beautiful and desirable.

“Too bad,” Caleb mutters.

“Too bad, what?”

“I was looking forward to spanking that luscious ass of yours. Guess I’ll just have to settle for fucking it.”

My anus contracts in response. “Um… wait. I’m not sure—”

“You’re not, but I am.” He uses his brusque, no-nonsense voice, but I’m almost certain if I really didn’t want this, he’d stop in a heartbeat. Caleb is a gentleman at heart. I’m sure of that.

Caleb

I am a horny motherfucker. All I can think about is all the variety of ways I want to pound into this beautiful human. She’s lying on her back, her arms drawn up and bound, which makes her big, delicious tits part and lift. Her silky red hair is spread like a fan around her head. Her pussy is untrimmed, which is sexy as hell to me, because I want to be the guy who shaves it. I have this fantasy of putting her in the bath and scraping her clean of hair everywhere below her chin.

I want to show her every position in the playbook. Make sure her education with me is as thorough as it can be and she loves every second of it.

And right now that means I need lube. Lots of it, because I don’t want her to be in pain when she takes my giant bear cock up the ass.

“Don’t move,” I tell her, which makes her snort since she can’t anyway. “I’ll be right back.”

I grab some olive oil from the kitchen and wash my hands.

When I come back, I have to stop in the doorway and breathe deep to shove back the desire to give her a mating bite.

She’s not a shifter. And I’m not claiming her.

My bear backs down because, yeah. He’s as horny as I am.

Her strawberries and ice cream scent mingles with her feminine arousal, filling the room like the sweetest perfume.

“Spread your knees, baby.” My voice comes out two octaves deeper than usual. I’m still in the doorway because I want to be sure I have the bear under control before I touch her.

When she drags her lower lip through her pretty white teeth and butterflies her knees, I almost keel over from the sudden throb of my cock.

“Fuck.” I stalk over to her and drop the olive oil bottle beside her so I can hook both hands under her thighs and feast between her legs.

She shrieks the moment my tongue hits her clit and then writhes against my face, making the cutest sounds as I eat her. I take my time, getting her good and swollen, her natural juices dripping onto my tongue.

When she’s babbling my name urgently, I finally take a break and open the olive oil bottle.

“Ohhh, Caleb. Oh boy. I don’t know…”

“You don’t. But I do,” I tell her. I dribble some oil onto my fingers. “Your job is to relax and take it. Mine is to make sure you enjoy it. Understand?” I rub my oiled finger over her anus, lubing it up good before I apply a little pressure. The trick is to wait a moment. There’s an initial puckering and then the ring of muscles relax. I wait until they do and push in, massaging all around to lube inside.

While she’s still getting used to the intrusion, I return my mouth to her pussy, treating her to the most lavish tongue-lashing I can concoct.

My girl loves it.

She moans and thrashes, her thighs crashing around my head, her feet cupping my waist like she’s trying to push me off, but every time I come up for air, she pulls me back in.

I add a second finger, work to stretch her back hole, get her ready for my cock.

She moans, a needy, keening cry.

“You like having your ass fucked, don’t you?”

“Jesus, Caleb. Jesus. You are so… dirty. Ohmygod. I need you to fuck me so badly.”

I chuckle at how far we’ve come in such a short time.

I rub her clit with my thumb while fucking her ass, lifting my face to drink in the view. “You ready for your ass fucking?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe. I’m scared.”

“Aw, baby. You don’t have to be scared.” I slide my fingers out of her ass and untie my sock holding her wrists. “Roll over and put that pillow under your hips.” I lift my chin toward the pillow under her head.

She complies immediately, which tells me her fears aren’t holding her back from giving up her anal virginity.

I dribble more olive oil into the crack of her ass and push her pale cheeks wide. “You have the best ass,” I tell her. It’s true. I’m definitely an ass man and hers is ample.

“I have a big ass,” she says wryly.

I smack her cheek, and a red handprint blooms. “You’d better love the hell out of this ass.” I slap the other cheek.

“Or what?” she laughs. “You’ll spank it? I’m not sure that’s showing it the love.”

“Oh it is.” I laugh, too. I deliver a flurry of stinging smacks, laying down a pretty blush on her pale skin. “It’s definitely a show of appreciation.”

She clenches her buttocks and wriggles, giggling the whole time.

“Put your hand between your legs,” I tell her.

“What?”

I smack her ass hard. “Now, Doctor. When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it.” The fresh scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, telling me I haven’t gone too far. She enjoys my dominance.

Good, because I sure as hell like taking charge. I haven’t taken charge of anything in three years—including my own life. I wouldn’t think something so simple as showing a hot genius the benefits of sex would be the cure-all, but I sure as hell feel good.

She lifts her hips and slips her hand beneath her, curling her fingers into her juicy sex.

“Good girl. Now you keep working that pussy while I enjoy this ass.”

She lets out a tiny mewl, but I see her fingers working, rubbing her swollen clit, sliding in her entrance. I free my erection and give my dick a rough yank. Fates, I’m hard for her. I pull her cheeks apart and line the head of my cock up with her back hole.

“Deep breath,” I coach as I apply a little pressure.

She takes a giant inhale, like she’s about to go underwater.

I chuckle. “Blow it out, baby.” I gently press forward, waiting for her sphincter muscles to relax and allow me in. “Take me, Miranda. Work that pussy and let me in.”

She relaxes more and I ease in. One inch, another.

Miranda vocalizes—one long vowel tone that starts and stops and starts again. I grind my teeth at the effort of holding back. Sweat gathers at my hairline but I go slow, holding my weight on my arms as I fill her and retreat.

There’s something so dominant about taking her ass. It’s a claiming of sorts, even though I have no right to stake any claim. No desire to, either.

Except that’s a lie. The idea of me training Miranda so she’ll find another man and demand good sex should satisfy me, but it doesn’t. It makes me want to follow her back to Albuquerque and rip the imaginary male’s dick off.

I fuck her faster, my breath coming in pants.

Her vowel sounds shorten, voice raises.

My loins slap her ass as I plow deeper, harder. Miranda works her fingers between her legs frantically.

My balls draw up tight, heat spikes at the base of my spine. I come with a shout and a shudder.

Miranda cries out and tightens her anus around my cock.

I growl at the tight squeeze. Eventually she loosens, the muscles in her back softening, her breath slowing. I kiss her shoulder before I realize how tender the gesture is.

That we’re just having sex.

But it’s too late to take it back. I ease out and go to the bathroom to clean up and bring her a washcloth.

No more kisses. No cuddles. I need to watch myself. My bear’s acting like I found myself a new mate, and that’s not the case at all.

I will never re-mate. Especially not with a human.

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