Page 12 of Grumpy Bear's Plus Size Love

“Shut up, you old bear,” I say and throw my arms around him again. Am I forgiving him too quickly? Maybe I am. Maybe that’s exactly the case. I suppose I could return us to the comments about being with a shifter. Anyone else in love with a bear shifter has a right to judge me. That sounds like a pretty fair way to ensure whoever judges me at least understands right?

Aw, who the hell cares. Bear shifter, weasel shifter, or rat shifter. It just doesn’t matter. What matters is far simpler than that. I can’t live without this man. There’s no way I can face tomorrow if I’m not with him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe I’m at peace with his extra-strength man cave needs. Maybe I’m not. Who knows. What I know, though, is that the only happiness I will ever have is happiness that I have with him.

I pull back and ask, “Are there weasel shifters?”

Naturally, he’s surprised at the question. “Don’t think so.”

“What about rats?”

“Pretty sure there are not. But, hey, we just found out about dragons in my lifetime. Vultures, too.”

“Vultures? What are they like.”

“This is a romance movie, not a horror flick,” he replies with a chuckle.

I giggle and say, “Right now, if you’d get to it already, it could be a porno.”

He smiles and suddenly I’m in the air! The man just lifts me up and tosses me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes. I yelp and when I do, he lands a swat on my ass. It doesn’t hurt at all but it is, of course, shocking. I yelp again and he lands a harder swat. “I told you to hush!” he growls.

Okay, so I moan.

I think part of what turns me on is just that he’s able to be so physical with me. I’m a big girl. This isn’t the sort of thing that I’m used to, if that makes any sense. So, I find myself overjoyed just by the fact that I’m with a man who can lift me up, move me around, and handle me like I’m some hundred-and-ten-pound waif of a supermodel.

He brings me right to my room and just throws me on the bed.

He throws me!

It’s easily the sexiest damned thing that has ever happened to me. I bounce on the bed and turn around and before long, our clothes are off. He just tears mine off, just like the first time all those months ago. He tears the clothes right off my body, and it stings a little. Well, it feels good a whole lot more than a little. In fact, I think I’m going to cum just from his ripping off my clothes!

I think back to him growling at me about buying me a new shirt. He did, by the way. He’s bought me plenty of clothes. He brings me a gift almost every time he returns from his long stays at the fire house. This is only the second time, though, that he’s reduced any of my clothing to tatters.

And all of it is.

Shirt. Bra. Pants. Panties.

They’re all just ripped from me.

I never would have imagined loving this sort of thing but I do. Of course, I never would have imagined wrapping my legs around the sexiest man on Earth as he fucks me. I never would have imagined running my hands over perfect muscles and broad shoulders. I never would have imagined cumming seconds after penetration but still wanting more.

I most certainly never expect to cry out, “I love you!” to a bear shifter.

And to be honest, I never expect a bear shifter or, for that matter, anyone else to say, “I love you, too.”

But that’s exactly what this powerful man on top of me growls into my ear. My hands clench more tightly and it certainly feels like they’ll never be able to let go of him. My legs are crossed over his back and they tighten up, too.

I guess I’m never letting go of my bear.

And my bear loves me, so he’s never letting go of me either.

As I move against him, I think about how perfect he feels to me. I don’t just mean that in a physical sense. Yes, this situation feels perfect when it comes to physical pleasure but I mean so much more than that.

Nathanial is the first man to make me feel like I have an equal say in the relationship. That’s a bit crazy given that he’s so much more powerful and domineering than any of the men in my past. I mean, my clothes are ripped up. It must seem strange to day I get an equal say but I do. Not only that, but this relationship with him is the first one in my life where I’m not continually thinking about my size, how I’m no supermodel.

I guess it’s fair to say that Nathanial is the first man I’ve ever loved. It’s also fair to say that you damned well better believe there will never be another. He’s the only one I want, the only one I need, and the only one I’ll ever feel on top of me ever again.

“I love you!” I cry again. I intend to beg him to stop because the orgasm is getting too powerful. Instead, I declare my love again. I guess that’s a good picture for the relationship, so incredible that it’s a miracle I can take it.

He growls right back at me, “I love you, too.”

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