Page 64 of Bears Not Included

And when Mason lifts away from me Callen takes part of my labia and pulls on it with his lips. The erotic sensation is more than I can handle until Callen removes his mouth from me and slips two fingers inside my drenched core instead. He scissors his digits inside me while Deacon’s teeth sink into my clit, making me feel like I’m going to black out. They don’t allow me to close my legs.

I can’t help the sheer, raw primal moan that leaves my body when Callen uses his soaked fingers and penetrates my ass. Mason now takes both the lips of my folds and sucks them deep into his mouth. Deacon brushes his tongue over my clit repeatedly, and Callen’s fingers in my ass obliterate me completely.

I come shamelessly, swept into a sea of dark, deviant pleasure. But it’s not enough for them. Mason thrusts two fingers inside me until I know he can feel Callen’s own fingers through the thin sheath that separates my pussy from my bottom hole.

My clit can’t take another salacious onslaught from Deacon’s mouth, it’s sensitive and still pulsing from my orgasm, but they don’t stop. Another climax ravishes me, stealing my breath and leaving me a hot, soaking, wet mess.

They make me come one more time, turning me into a wild, wanton creature with only incoherent screams coming from my mouth. Yet when they remove their fingers and mouths from me, I’m left adrift. Empty. Cold.

With my erratic panting and my hair a mess from thrashing around in the chair, I watch them move their magnificent bodies toward a white table. I hadn’t noticed it before, but three tall cylindrical glass jars are gracing the table. There’s something inside them, and I think I’m imagining seeing something fly around in them.

I concentrate on what I’m seeing, and it’s irrefutable. Each of the three glass jars houses a flying insect. Delicate wings adorn a gold and black-striped fuzzy body.

Inside each of the three jars is a bee.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Livia

My body still pulses from my orgasms, but I try to drag my brain completely out of the haziness. And now thoughts fly through my head with piercing clarity. Bears, honey, and bees.

My mom’s stories were only about the battle against the bear shifters when they took a willing Goldenia as their bride. If there were tales about any rituals, she was not privy to them.

“Our ancestors were once bear shifters, but that didn’t mean they gave up who they were as men, as well,” Callen says.

“The way they breed their bride was one of them,” Deacon adds as the three of them each take a jar and seat themselves on three throne-like white chairs. My view of them is clear and unhindered.

I’m lost in the unknown, and my gaze vacillates between the jars containing the bees in their hands and the way they’re seated like three kings. I can’t even imagine what they’re going to do, and my voice has deserted me as I continue watching them in sheer fascination but with an undercurrent of unease and apprehension.

I don’t know what they’re going to do, and every moment that goes by adds to my anxiety. I stay seated in the chair, my legs crushed together now as I sit upright.

Deacon, Callen, and Mason gently shake the bees in the jar before they unscrew the lid. My mouth dries and my heart is pounding so much that I feel it in my head.

I can’t help the jolting gasp that spills from my lips. I’m too shocked to comprehend what I’m seeing, and I wonder if I’m possibly imagining it.

After unscrewing the lids from the jars, Deacon, Callen, and Mason deftly slip their cocks into the cylinder. And the bees are still inside them.

My gaze flips up to their faces to find their eyes glued to me. I’ve forgotten how to breathe, my pulse pounds so hard it hurts my skin. My focus dips back down to their cocks. Oh god, what are they doing?

I watch in stunned anguish as Deacon throws his head back, and a roar falls from his mouth. Callen and Mason follow suit. But before I can swing my legs off the chair and go to them—to do what I don’t know—Deacon stops me with a firm, rough command.

“Stay where you are.”

I right myself on the chair again, my legs drawn up to my chest, my gaze fixated as the men before me grit through what can only be unbearable pain to their cocks. Every muscle in their cocks bulge, their veins expand, and they look even bigger than they usually are.

I want to tell them to stop. I see the pain wracking their bodies. A river of sweat drizzles down their hard, layered abs, and tormented breaths expand from their sculpted chests. They’ve removed the jars and I can already see their cocks swelling. I blink and the tears filling my eyes roll down my face.

Dear god.

It’s too agonizing to watch the tsunami waves of pain that wash over them, yet at the same time, they are still magnificent, brilliant, and unbelievably gorgeous.

“Fuck.” Their chorused expletive ricochets off the walls and pulls me into the vortex of their pain. I don’t know what to do to help them and my helplessness kills me.

“Open your legs, Livia.” Mason’s hoarse command filters through my thoughts.

“What?” I whisper, confused.

“Open your legs, right now,” Callen says. “Please.”

---