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

Miranda

When Caleb left me on the bed with my body on fire and my confidence ruffled, I wanted to throw something at him. But it turns out he was right.

I was drunk.

And a nap helped.

I wake up a couple hours later with a much clearer head.

And then I’m afraid to leave the bedroom because I can’t decide if I should be embarrassed or pissed off or grateful. Well, there’s no decision, really. I’m all three.

I’m relieved to know Caleb is as much of a gentleman as I suspected. Rough-edged, grumpy, but pure chivalrous gentleman.

I glom onto that thought as I walk out and find him in the kitchen, pulling a giant rainbow trout from the oven.

“Mmm, that smells amazing.”

He grunts but doesn’t turn around.

“Did you catch it yourself?”

“Yep.” He still hasn’t looked at me. He carries the fish to the table and sets it on a trivet. Only then does he turn and wave a hand toward one of the chairs. “Come and eat.”

“Thank you.” I’m acutely aware of my nipples protruding through the flannel shirt. Oh hell, why is it flapping open? The memory of unbuttoning it down past my sternum comes back along with a flush of heat. I fumble with the buttons, but the way he watches my fingers only makes me blush harder.

I wonder if my clothes are out of the dryer? A bra would probably be appropriate.

I dive into the chair at the table to hide my embarrassment and pick up the fork there. Wait. He set the table?

I’m suddenly absurdly pleased that he went to the effort to cook and set the table. In an attempt to impress his chosen female, the male embraces acts of domesticity. Well, maybe he’s not trying to impress me. If there were wine glasses out, I’d be sure he was trying to woo me, but there aren’t. He’s probably had enough of tipsy Miranda.

He sits down across from me and serves the fish along with baked potatoes and eyes me like a creature he doesn’t completely understand, one who might say or do something outrageous at any moment.

I decide to shock him. “So when are you going to show me what a real man can do?”

He goes still, fork halfway to his mouth, lips open. I savor his surprise. Faced with a female who makes the first move, the male reassesses his strategy.

The silence stretches on and I resist the urge to squirm. Most men don’t like women pursuing them because they’re so used to it being the other way around. They think if a woman wants them, there must be something wrong with her. Or it takes away the thrill of the hunt. I’d hoped Caleb would be more evolved, but maybe I read him wrong. His body definitely screams macho.

After a long moment he shrugs and says, “Well, you are here for research purposes.” He takes a bite of food. Is there a playful gleam in his eyes?

“Right. Strictly research,” I agree. “Scientific studies.”

A ghost of a smile plays around his lips. “We do still have the whole night to kill.”

“Right. And we’ve already played truth or dare.”

His booming laugh startles me. I swear it surprises him, too, because he cuts it off immediately and blinks like he’s bewildered such a sound would come out of him. I’m struck suddenly by what a likeable guy he is. What makes a naturally charming man with a babe-magnet body turn so sour and hole up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere?

What’s he escaping from?

Bear looks over from the rug in front of the fire where he’s been parked and wags his tail.

“Do you get lonely up here by yourself, Caleb?” I ask softly, dropping my eyes to my plate to take the intensity out of the question.

“I don’t know.” Again, he sounds almost surprised by his answer. “I mostly hibernate. I mean, I just sort of shut down. You’re forcing me to turn back on. It will probably feel strange when you leave.”

My gaze shoots up to meet his and tangles there. I’m dragged under by the depth of confusion and pain I find in his his dark brown eyes. And then I’m sure of it—Caleb the grouchy, kind mountain man is definitely lonely.

My heart tugs for him, especially because I know loneliness too, but I don’t allow any sympathy to show on my face. He’s way too alpha male to appreciate that. I want to ask what happened to him, because I’m certain something did—but the timing’s all wrong. If I really do want this man to show me what good sex is, then I can’t keep killing the mood.

He gets up and clears our plates. I gather the rest of what’s left on the table, watching the wide expanse of his shoulders as he stands at the sink. He’s as singular and spectacular as any natural wonder up here. One of the gems of the mountain.

I smile to myself, thinking of scientifically cataloging him. Homo sapiens squalentum. Yeah, that fits. Rugged Man.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, clomping off toward the bathroom without looking at me. But then as he reaches the door, he turns and gives me a look.

It pins me to my spot on the floor, makes my belly flutter with excitement, my nipples get hard. There’s dark promise in that gaze. Homo sapiens squalentum. Wicked, feral rugged man, getting clean for me. Grooming is an essential part of the mating dance.

The water cuts on and every cell in my body stands up at attention. Caleb’s in there, naked, getting ready to seduce me. This is happening.

Hormones flood my body. My ovaries are fanning themselves. I can practically feel them letting down eggs in pairs. Go get some, girl, they cheer. It’s about time!

It is about time. I sincerely hope he lives up to his boasting.

Somehow, I have a feeling he will.

Caleb

Human.

Female.

Human.

Female.

As I stand under the spray of water, my brain and my bear go around and around. I’m trying to remind my bear that the very delectable woman in my cabin is human and; therefore, fragile. Too delicate for all the things I want to do to her. My bear wants me to do to her.

All my bear roars is, female. And it’s with the territorial dominance of a bear in full competition. As if we were in spring mating season and he has to fight off all the other males. He’s aggressive. Posturing.

And he needs to tone it the fuck down or I won’t have any finesse at all with that female. I won’t be able to change her opinion about men and sex. And for some unknown reason, that goal grows more and more important to me by the minute.

I fist my cock. I’d better let off some steam or I could lose control. But no, I’m too impatient. Too needy for the real thing. I can handle this. My head is on straight. I’ll keep the bear down. I soap up, washing every crevice, shampooing my hair. I even consider shaving the beard, but then I discard that idea. I haven’t shaved since Jen and Gretchen died. My signal to the world that I was out.

And while the numbness may have thawed these last twenty-four hours, I’m not ready to return to the living yet.

No matter how alluring that beautiful redhead out there may be.

I turn off the water and towel dry, then tug my boxers and jeans back on. I don’t bother buttoning or zipping the jeans, nor do I put on a shirt.

I saw the way she looked at my tattooed chest and arms this morning. She finds them attractive, no matter what she may say about hating sex. And I want her primed. I need all the help I can get to do this right.

A whisper of the half-dead Caleb speaks from the mirror. What are you doing with another woman?

I look away. Nothing. Just answering a challenge, that’s all. A male has to prove himself when challenged, right?

Nothing else.

She knows it’s nothing more than sex. For research purposes.

I emerge from the steamy bathroom and find Miranda at the back door. It’s illogical. I know she’s not going anywhere—she can’t go anywhere, but when I see her there, I close the distance between us with three long strides.

Of course she was only letting her dog out to pee. The snow-covered pup comes back in.

I clap my hand on the door and slam it shut, then pop her ass with the flat of my other palm.

She squeals and spins around.

“You’re letting in the cold air.” It’s a stupid thing to say. I could give a shit if she lets in cold air or not—I kept the cabin toasty warm for her all day and the cold wind actually feels refreshing. No, it was more about keeping her in.

She’s the hunted now.

My prey.

Her cheeks flush a charming shade of pink. “You-you can’t just slap a woman’s ass.”

“I can’t?”

“No! Not without consent,” she sputters. “That’s just, that’s just—”

I raise a brow. My bear is unbelievably turned on by her bluster. I fucking love when she gives it back to me. She may be human, but she mates like a bear. A sow will charge a male, maybe swat him with her paw, especially if it’s her first time.

The boar will rarely retaliate. He just bides his time, knowing she’ll eventually give in.

“That’s just unacceptable!” she finishes, breathless.

I crowd the sexy scientist against the dryer without touching her. I brace my hands on either side of her, caging her in.

“I need consent, huh?” I dip my head, get my lips close to her ear, still not touching her anywhere.

“Y-yes.” Her voice drops to a near whisper.

“Tell me this, Dr. M,” I rumble, breathing in her strawberries and ice cream scent. “Would you consent to me turning you around, bending you over and slapping that ass a few more times to warm it up?”

She makes a tiny sound. Her wide green eyes gaze into mine, her soft lips part. “Um…”

“Afterward, I’d spread those legs wide and lick you from behind. Lick you until you scream. Tell me, do you consent to that?”

She swallows and bobs her head. “I-I guess I’d be up for trying that.”

I can’t stop the feral smile from spreading across my face.

“Good girl,” I murmur, dropping my hands to her waist and slowly rotating her to face the dryer. “You won’t be sorry. I promise.” My voice sounds thicker than usual.

“First thing we have to do is get rid of these.” I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my sweatpants—the ones she’s been wearing the hell out of—and slide them down over her wide hips. She kicks them off before I can squat to help her. I step into her space, pressing my hardened cock against her back as I reach around the front of her and work the buttons on the flannel. “I’m gonna need you fully naked for this.”

She slides a glance over her shoulder at me. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

I bite her ear and tug the flesh. “Do you want me to?”

“Oh my God,” she moans. “You are good at this.”

I laugh. That’s twice she’s made me laugh out loud. I didn’t know I was capable of it anymore. “Did you doubt me?”

“Um… a little. No. Well—” I cover her mouth with my hand and use it to tip her head away from me, revealing the slender column of her neck. I drag my mouth down it, stopping to bite the flesh where neck meets shoulder.

“Oh.” The little surprised syllable makes my cock surge painfully against my jeans.

I love her inexperience. Or lack of good experience. It means everything I do is a first. The heady sense of power that brings settles my bear a little more. I can do this. I’m not going to hurt her. I’m definitely going to make this good for her.

I reach my other hand between her legs. I already knew by her scent she was aroused, but the slick nectar there is even more copious than I imagined. Heavenly. I drag my index finger through it slowly, then bring it to my mouth to taste. “You taste so good, Doctor.”

“I-I do? Is that a real thing? You can’t really think so.”

“No?” I give her ass a slap and she shrieks. “I really do.” I tug her hips backward and kick her feet wider. “Now push that ass out for your spanking.”

I love the sound of air whooshing across her lips as she gasps and complies.

“I can’t believe this is a thing, either.” She gives a nervous laugh.

I pop her ass. “Oh, it’s definitely a thing. And you’re definitely gonna like it.” I smack the other cheek. I keep it light but firm. Just enough to make a loud sound, not so much that it hurts. I don’t let myself forget she’s a delicate human. Although she doesn’t feel delicate under my hands at the moment. She feels lush and soft, and perfect to drive into hard.

I loop one arm around her waist to steady her hips and stand at her side. “You have this coming, you know,” I tell her as I begin a slow but steady rhythm of slaps on her ass.

“N-no, I don’t!” she protests, her indignation weakened by breathlessness.

“Oh, you definitely do.” I continue to apply firm spanks to her lower buttocks. “Getting caught in that storm. Making me climb in a sleeping bag naked with you.”

“You liked that part,” she accuses between gasps.

“Fucking torture.” I give a harder spank to punish her for making me suffer.

The little whimper she makes lets me know she’s feeling that same anguish, so I drop to my knees and push her ass open. Her pussy glistens like a dainty pink Cinderella heart, just waiting to be wooed.

I give it my best. I tease her folds with the tip of my tongue, penetrate her, lick all the way to her anus and rim her until she shakes and squeals.

“C-Caleb,” she warbles.

“Yeah, babygirl? Are you enjoying yourself yet?”

“Ohmygod, yes. Caleb—oh!” The thick lust in her voice, the ratcheted need makes my bear lurch to the surface, but I push him back.

“Turn around,” I command and grip her waist. “Up.” I forget to hide my shifter strength, lifting her easily to sit on the dryer. Her eyes widen and I realize my mistake, but I shove her knees wide and make her forget.

I treat her to my tongue at a different angle, screwing one finger into her as I flick her clit.

She sobs with pleasure, gripping my hair and knotting her fingers around the strands. Her enthusiasm feeds my desire to pleasure her. I add a second finger, then withdraw them and add some saliva to work my middle finger into her ass.

“Wait… what—” Surprise tinges her moans. But then I’m in. She shakes and shivers, her pleasure overriding her protests. I shove my thumb in her pussy and fuck both holes at once, slow at first, then harder. Faster.

Her cries grow louder.

Alarm flickers over her face. Her full breasts bounce. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Please. Oh Caleb!”

She comes.

It’s even more spectacular than I imagined, the shocked ecstasy in her expression breathtaking.

I keep finger-fucking her until her pussy stops clenching, her thighs stop gripping.

She falls back on her hands behind her, panting. “Holy shit.”

I try to keep the smugness off my face. “Not bad, right?”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. I ease my fingers from her and tug her off the dryer, her legs straddling my waist. “That’s just my warm up.”

She weaves her fingers into my hair. “Conceited man.”

Miranda

Holy mountain man. Peel me off the face of the moon, because I’m still up there, a limp dishrag of floaty goodness. Pleasure still reverberates everywhere, but especially between my legs, my lady parts lit up and doing the Charleston to celebrate the glory of my first decent orgasm.

Ever.

I don’t even have much luck masturbating.

But Caleb played my body like a musician making love to his instrument.

He carries me into his bedroom and drops me onto a giant iron four-post bed. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, and I hear him running the sink in the bathroom, probably washing his hands.

A giddy excitement builds in my core as I realize there might be more to come. After all, he hasn’t been satisfied yet. Will he want me to suck him off?

It’s generally my least favorite thing to do, but for some reason, it feels different with him. Maybe because he just gave me the best orgasm of my life. When he comes back to the bedroom, his eyes glow bright. They’re not as dark as usual, appearing almost amber in color. He gives an animalistic growl and climbs up onto the bed, hooking his hands under my thighs and spreading me open.

A long lick and he settles between my legs, tongue working its magic again. Holy hell. Seriously? More cunnilingus? I’m not sure I can stand any more. My clit is so freaking sensitive now. Oh God, but it feels so good. I writhe on the bed beneath Caleb, his mustache and beard rubbing my skin raw as his tongue does wicked things to my lady parts. Heat reignites in my core, pours through my body. I pinch my own nipples—something I’ve never done before—and arch on the bed, wanton sounds spilling from my lips.

“Baby, you sound so good when I get you purring,” Caleb rumbles.

I reach for his head and push my dripping pussy into his face, needing even more. He chuckles and pulls away, and I nearly weep for the loss of him. He catches my wrists, pinning them in one of his large palms. “Doctor, you are so far from running this show.”

My brain scrambles, trying to decipher his meaning. I lick my lips. “So y-you’re one of those guys who has to be in charge?” The warble in my voice nullifies any challenge I meant to infuse in my words.

His smile is wicked. Knowing. He climbs up a bit and pins my wrists above my head. “Interlace your fingers, Doctor.”

I freaking love that he calls me Doctor. “Wh-why?”

He rolls my nipple between his finger and thumb. I feel it between my legs. “You wanna see what else I can do?”

Yep, he pretty much has me as his slave now. I’d do anything to find out what else he can do. Even if it’s totally demeaning.

I stare up at him. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life, and yet I also feel perfectly safe. Protected, even. I nod and slowly twine my fingers together.

“Now you keep those hands on your head, Doctor. If they come off, you’re going to get another spanking.” The wicked twist of his lips is so sexy.

Caleb, you kinky bastard! He’s like a different man—all traces of grumpiness gone, replaced by dark seduction.

He tangles his fingers over mine on top of my head and nudges my face to the side to expose my neck. He drags his open mouth down the column of my neck to my shoulder, where he gently bites me. Then his tongue makes a reappearance, dragging along my collarbone to the hollow of my throat, then between my breasts.

I rock my hips against nothing, growing desperate for more. For a release. For all of it. He grazes my right nipple with his teeth and I jerk, but he immediately laves away the sting with his tongue.

My body trembles, eager for more, desperate to know what comes next. He takes his time, moving to the next nipple, sucking, kissing, nipping.

I want to reach for him—not with any conscious plan—just to participate, to connect, but I remember in time not to untangle my fingers.

“Caleb, I can’t stand it,” I sob. “Please.”

He sits back on his heels and strums my clit idly with his thumb. “What’s the matter, Doctor? You need to come again?”

I nod quickly. “Yes.” I look down at the bulge in his jeans. “Are you going to, um…”

He gives his cock a squeeze through his jeans, but he shakes his head. “I don’t have any condoms.”

I can’t describe the sense of desperation that rips through me. “What?”

Oh.

I appreciate his honesty and concern.

I lick my lips again—damn, I have to break that habit. “Well, I’m on the pill. Just to regulate my periods. So, um, if you wanted to… I mean, I’m clean. Are you clean?”

His eyes glow. I mean, I swear, they actually glow. Like a cat’s eyes at night.

“I’m clean.” His voice is rough and gravelly. “You sure? I mean, you missed your pill today.”

“I’ll take two tomorrow. It will be all right.” This is totally a first. Me being the one to beg for sex. Trying to convince my partner instead of the other way around.

Caleb locks his gaze on mine as he squeezes his cock through his jeans. His body is lean and powerful. A beautiful mass of inked muscle.

A shiver of excitement goes through me.

This is happening.

With Caleb, the extremely hot, soon-to-be-naked ripped mountain man.

“Roll over.”

“What?” I arch my brows in surprise.

“You heard me. I want to fuck you from behind. You can let go of your fingers now.”

“I want to watch you undress first,” I say stubbornly.

He gives me a crooked smile. “Are we bargaining? I thought I was in charge, here.”

“You thought being the operative words,” I throw back at him. But then I lose all focus on conversation because I realize his jeans are open, the front of his boxers straining to conceal what I’m so desperate to see.

Oh holy hell. It’s as big as I suspected! Huge, really. He shucks the jeans and boxers.

A little thread of fear twists in me. “I’m not sure that’s going to fit.” My voice sounds small.

“Oh it’ll fit. And you’ll like it. Now roll over.”

Ooh. That bossy thing really does something to me. Makes my core turn molten, heat pour down my inner thighs. It makes my toes curl. I roll to my belly, and turn to look over my shoulder to watch him. I don’t want to miss a single second of this.

He smiles. “Good girl.” He climbs onto the bed. “Open for me.”

I can only assume he means my legs, so I part my thighs, spreading my ankles wide on the bed.

“Mmm,” he growls. “Beautiful. That’s fucking beautiful.”

I do feel beautiful. I feel sexy and desirable. Three things I never, ever feel. My big breasts may get ogled a lot, but all it usually inspires is shame in me. Frustration or anger on a stronger day.

No, right now I’m receiving his praise in a whole new way. Believing it. Reveling in it.

He kneels between my legs and nudges them even wider with his knees. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

He keeps saying it. Beautiful.

“I feel beautiful right now,” I say in no more than a whisper.

He grasps my wrists and pins them over my head, much like he did when I was on my back. He lowers his head to mine, his breath feathering across my ear. “You’d better believe you’re beautiful. If you don’t, you have another lesson coming.”

Another lesson.

I have no idea what that means, but it sounds dirty and tantalizing and everything I’d love.

“Now you’re going to take my big cock because you know I’m gonna use it right.” He nudges my entrance with the tip. It feels so good to feel him unsheathed, his velvety steel rubbing in my juices.

I want it in me.

So badly.

I arch my ass up, push against him.

He chuckles as the tip slides inside me.

I moan.

He eases in with steady pressure. One inch. Another. I force my muscles to relax. I’m so wet down there, he slides in like he was made for me. Or like I was made for him.

It feels heavenly. Freaking perfect. All that tongue action was great, but nothing replaces a cock. Not even fingers or any vibrator I’ve tried. No, this is the satisfaction I’ve been craving. This is what I need. Even as his large manhood stretches me wide, fills me too full, the pleasure overtakes all fear.

He keeps pushing until his loins hit my ass and then he scythes in and out, bumping my ass with each instroke.

I’ve never had a guy turn me around and take me from behind before—okay, I realize now how limited my experience really was—but I love the position. Each bump of my ass stimulates me even more. He’s in deep, but it doesn’t hurt; it just feels right.

“Yes,” I moan. “More.”

“Oh, I’ll give you more.” The dark promise is followed by a hand dropping to my nape, holding me in place as he starts to pound into me harder.

Faster.

The room echoes with wanton wailing—I guess it’s coming from me, but I don’t know because I’m completely losing my mind.

I try to form words, but only gibberish spills from my lips.

It goes on and on, every satisfying stroke driving me into a deeper frenzy. I don’t want it to ever stop, and yet and I need it to come to its natural conclusion with such total desperation I’m clawing at the bedcover.

“Yes, please, yes,” I chant and he slams in even harder, his loins slapping my ass like an erotic spanking.

Caleb lets out a low rumble—a bestial sound and then a louder roar just before he plunges deep and comes.

I scream out my approval, my internal muscles clamping around his cock, squeezing and milking it for all it’s worth. I swear I feel the heat of his cum searing me. Fireworks explode behind my eyes. I’ve never felt so feminine. Been able to receive so much pleasure. Known the throes of passion.

Caleb taught me this.

My grumpy rescuer. The bearded mountain man with sculpted muscles.

Caleb pushes the hair back from my face and I turn my head to look over my shoulder at him. “You okay?”

I nod. “Definitely.”

“You still think sex is overrated?”

My laugh comes out husky and raw. “Not the way you do it.”

His satisfied grin makes butterflies take off in my tummy. He’s so beautiful when he smiles—his teeth gleaming white, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners.

And that’s when I realize—he has smile lines around his eyes. This man used to laugh and smile a lot.

So what changed?