So Much To Bear: Shifting Devotions (Werebear Erotic Romance) (3 page)

“I will never get over how good you are at that,” Jennifer told him, struggling to catch her breath as he held her tightly. Damon chuckled.

“You are just as talented, you know.” Jennifer blushed, curling into him, burying her face against his chest. She had been a little hesitant the first time she had gone down on Damon; he was so thick, his cock bigger than any other partner she had had—she hadn’t known how she would be able to manage to take him in. But Damon had been so patient, praising her as she sucked more and more of him into her mouth, stroking her hair as she used her tongue against the tip.

“I don’t think you’re right,” she told him, peeking up from his chest to grin. “But I appreciate the compliment.” She reached down with her still-trembling hand and began to stroke him; even as much pleasure as she had taken from his oral worship, she wanted more—always more. She wanted to feel Damon inside of her, wanted to give him the pleasure he had given her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so consistently turned on in my life as I am with you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Damon said, closing his eyes as Jennifer tightened her grip on his hard cock, pumping him slowly. “Are you ready for me, Jenn?” he asked, his voice slightly plaintive in his need.

“Always,” Jennifer replied. She grinned, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him, straddling his hips. They had had sex in so many positions since they had reunited; cuddling in their hotel bed, in the bath tub, in the shower. Damon’s preternatural strength made it possible for them to try things that Jennifer had never seriously considered; he could hold her in his arms for hours without getting tired. He had once—for his own amusement—lifted her onto his shoulders, burying his face against her pussy while she barely held onto the wall of the shower, trusting him completely to keep her from tumbling down.

Jennifer rocked her hips against Damon’s, pressing her soaking wet pussy against his hard cock, rubbing him up and down with her slick folds and teasing them both. Damon groaned, his hands falling to her hips, gripping her tightly. He never forced her—never tried to make her go faster than she wanted to; Jennifer was touched by the fact that Damon seemed to have infinite patience with her. She leaned in and brought her lips to his, kissing him hungrily as she shifted to take him inside of her. Damon thrust up to meet her, his cock pushing deeper and deeper inside of her body, and they both moaned in the same moment, gripping each other tightly in reaction to the sweet pleasure of their bodies meeting. Jennifer remained still for a long moment, savoring the sensation of Damon’s cock buried deep inside of her, their hips flush together. The next instant she was moving, rocking against him, lifting her hips and letting them fall. She rode him in a steady rhythm that Damon fell into immediately, thrusting up as she pushed down, his hands holding her hips, wandering up to her breasts, caressing and teasing her everywhere.

Jennifer lost all track of time as she rode him, kissing everywhere her lips could reach, touching him, exploring Damon’s body. The pleasure mounted inside of her, her pussy tightening around him, getting wetter and wetter all over again as she felt her arousal becoming more and more intense. She felt as though she had a knot somewhere deep between her hips, tightening every moment that she and Damon moved together, friction building up between their bodies. She was drenched in sweat, her whole body tingling with hot and cold flashes as she came closer and closer to orgasm.

Damon’s cock began to twitch inside of her and Jennifer knew that the man she loved was coming. She felt the first sticky-slick slap of his orgasm shooting into her, and the sensation of his climax brought her over the edge once more. She moaned out, gripping his shoulders tightly, her legs locked around him as she rode him through their mutual climax, not stopping until she was utterly spent. Jennifer collapsed against Damon, smiling dreamily as his arms wound around her tightly, holding her, wrapping her up in his warm strength. She would have to go back to her homework; she wanted to be prepared for her classes. But for the moment, Jennifer was more than content—she was proud, pleased, beyond joyful that she had made the choices that she had, that she had decided to find Damon in the woods, and that they had both committed to being together, no matter how difficult it could be.

Chapter Three
 

Damon stared at the TV, feeling a mixture of amusement and almost-contempt at the trash that was shown for daytime programming. Before Jennifer had brought him out of the forest and into the bright, over-lit glare of the broader world of regular humans, Damon had known about the existence of TVs, of computers, smart phones, all of the myriad of technological devices that seemed to be part and parcel of living in the world—especially in the city. But he had little practical experience with them. Living in the forest, in a cave, by himself, there had been no need to distract himself from boredom. If he had free moments in his day, he was relieved simply to have the rest.

Before his clan had died off, leaving him a hermit, Damon had learned about the broader world by means of the radio. They had still been able to produce enough not only for their own survival but for the purposes of trade—or they bartered services for goods, where they could. The clan had been able to keep generators in the forest, and they had been able to afford batteries and other accessories that had made electronics possible—but something like Jennifer’s laptop would have been a hopeless extravagance even then. A radio, powered by a few batteries, had been enough to give Damon some idea of the outside world, some entertainment on restless nights.

On the television, some people were bickering in front of a judge about a rental agreement that had gone sour. Damon enjoyed the fact that he could watch TV, but half the time—particularly during the day—it didn’t seem as if there was anything interesting and he wondered at the fact that people could really be happy watching it several hours a day. He was feeling restless and a little lonely; Jennifer had gone back to her classes that morning, giving him a lingering kiss in bed as she got ready. He knew that she would have to go, and he encouraged her to finish her degree. He knew well enough that his lack of advanced education meant that he was going to have a much more difficult time finding a good job; even those kinds of jobs that he had the skills to do seemed to require certifications or degrees of some kind. Damon knew that until he was able to contribute to their life together, he wouldn’t feel right—but he didn’t even know how to start.

He wouldn’t admit it to Jennifer—at least not completely—but he had been completely thrown by the differences between the city her college was situated in and the small towns he had known vaguely. She had tried to warn him, and he appreciated the time she had devoted to helping him get as comfortable as possible, but Damon was utterly perplexed at the fact that so many people could live in one place. Every single one of them, he knew, would want to kill him if they ever became aware of his true nature. It was a minor miracle, Damon reflected, that Jennifer had fallen in love with him; he had been raised with the certain knowledge that regular humans distrusted bears—whether they were regular denizens of the forest or shifters. To meet someone who was brave enough to track him when he was injured without knowing what his potential to harm her could be, who was stubborn enough to help him when he gave her no encouragement and even insisted on her leaving him alone—it seemed like a touch of destiny.

After the attack that had come close to killing him, Damon had decided that he couldn’t live so close to the small towns anymore. He had also decided that if there was any way he could be with Jennifer, that he would do it; even if that meant making sacrifices. But he hated feeling restless; he hated feeling as though he couldn’t support himself. He had lived off of the land for so long, idle time seemed more like a punishment than a pleasure—and Damon wondered idly to himself how the heirs and heiresses of the world, who didn’t have to work for anything, managed not to go completely insane.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Housekeeping!” a bright, slightly accented voice proclaimed. Damon felt the first stirrings of alarm—but suppressed the impulse to run and hide. He was in human society; he would have to become accustomed to the fact that he would run into regular people everywhere. He rose from the bed and went to the door, his heart beating a little faster. He knew about the housekeeping services that the hotels employed; he and Jennifer had always been out of the way when they came through, but he had had some exposure to the idea even before he’d ever stayed in a hotel.

“Can you come back later?” he asked as he opened the door. The woman on the other side was petite, looking up at him with a cheerful yet determined mask over her slightly tired features. That was what Jennifer had told him to do if he was staying in when the housekeeping people came through; ask them to come back another time. The woman shook her head.

“All of the rooms have to be cleaned by three o’clock,” she told him firmly. Damon glanced at the TV and around the room; it wasn’t that messy. He didn’t see the need for a stranger to go through the room and clean everything that would only be used again in a matter of hours—he and Jennifer had the hotel room for a couple of weeks, until they figured out what else they could do for a living situation.

“I’m kind of busy right now,” Damon said, frowning. The woman peered into the room—there were no obvious signs of any work going on because Jennifer had brought her laptop with her, and Damon had no work of his own yet.

“I really have to get this room clean, sir,” the woman insisted. “Why don’t you go out for a bit and come back later? Your room will be nice and clean and fresh—brand new linens on the bed, new towels.” Damon was torn between the boredom that made it easy to side with the woman and his very real anxiety about being out in the city on his own. It was obvious that she wouldn’t budge on the issue—the woman was determined to clean everything. Damon gave in, shaking his head and leaving the woman to do her job.

He left the hotel and walked quickly, having no real idea of how to occupy his time while the room was being cleaned, while Jennifer was busy in her classes for the day. She would be back in the late afternoon—and part of Damon was glad for the excuse to at least do something outside of the hotel, to prove that he was able to assimilate into life as a regular person. He kept walking until he came to a bus stop, and found the pass that Jennifer had bought him when they arrived in the city in the breast pocket of his shirt. Maybe, he thought, he’d go to one of the movie theaters, or wander around one of the malls. He was fascinated by the sheer volume of stores selling things of seemingly endless variety—his life had always been constrained by necessity. Seeing piles and piles of clothes, electronics, gadgets, items that no one would ever need but everyone seemed to be constantly buying, had not yet lost its novelty. Nor had the freedom of going to the movies.

Damon moved into the line at the bus stop and heard someone behind him clearing their throat, muttering something under their breath. “Oh! I’m sorry,” he said, realizing that in his distraction he’d cut in the line. He blushed, mentally kicking himself and looking away, sidling out of the line and moving behind the woman. His gaze, directed at the ground beneath his feet, took in the sharp luster of her shoes, the hem of her skirt. The woman didn’t acknowledge the apology at all as he took the polite place behind her and for a moment, Damon felt a little irritated—at himself, at the woman, at the sheer level of noise that surrounded him. Cars honked, tires screeched, there was a constant babble of conversation from people walking past. At first it had seemed like an exhilarating change from the quiet of his previous life—but the novelty was starting to wear thin, and Damon’s supernaturally-sharp hearing didn’t make it any easier to deal with the cacophony of city life. At least in the motel, he thought wearily, there was a little quiet in the late hours of the night.

When he shuffled onto the steps of the bus, Damon made a second mistake; he went to insert his pass into the reader and almost folded it over onto itself, making the driver groan. Taking a deep breath, Damon pulled the card out and tried again, pushing it in more gently, gradually coaxing the machine to take it. Why the driver couldn’t just look at the pass and verify that it was valid, Damon didn’t know; but he finally got the permission to take a seat and stepped through the cab with relief. There were only two seats open and Damon looked around to make sure that no one else might have priority before taking one of them, sitting down heavily. Only fifteen minutes out of the hotel, and he had already messed things up twice, he thought ruefully. Jennifer had been right in her assertion that city life was more difficult than it seemed.

He rode the bus all the way through the rest of its stops, getting off when the driver pulled into the station with the few people who had remained until the end. He had no real idea where he was, and his lack of ability to navigate the complex honeycomb of streets added to his growing sense of irritation. He realized as he waited for another bus to load up with passengers that part of the source of his annoyance was simple hunger. Damon shook his head, smiling to himself. He had eaten breakfast with Jennifer; they’d bought some groceries that would fit into the limited space the hotel provided in a mini fridge and a cabinet. But he hadn’t eaten since.

So Damon climbed onto another bus, and watched through the window, watching the different shops and buildings flash past. He spotted a diner—familiar to him from when Jennifer had brought him there days before. Damon smiled to himself again, reaching up and tugging the cord to request a stop. The bus passed the diner, but stopped only a block away, and Damon hurried off, jumping nimbly from the last stair. He tried not to feel conspicuous as he looked around, regaining his bearings. The sign for the diner was in clear view and he walked back towards it, dodging oblivious pedestrians absorbed in their phones or their tablets.

It was a relief to sit down at a table, even if he felt a little lonely by himself. Damon perused the menu, considering what he wanted. He had to admit that as baffled as he had been by the fact that everyone seemed to trust other people they didn’t even know to make their food properly—the concept of restaurants had always seemed strange to him—he had had very good food with Jennifer at all of the places she had taken him. “In all by yourself?” Damon looked up quickly from the menu to see the waitress approaching his table, a smile on her face.

“Ah, yeah,” Damon said, reminding himself that not everyone in the world was someone he should distrust. “My girlfriend’s in class right now, and I’m starving.” The woman’s smile faltered slightly but then came back just as quickly.

“Well, we have the beef tenderloin sandwich on special today—it’s always good.” Damon found the item on the menu; it sounded as good as anything; hungry as he was, he would have been willing to eat whatever was recommended to him.

“I think I’ll have that, then, with a water.” He handed the menu back to her; the waitress’ gaze traveled up along his arm as the movement shifted his sleeve upward, showing the coiling bands of his tattoos.

“Oh man, those are great!” she said, smiling again. “Where did you get them done?” Damon floundered for just a moment—one of his uncles had applied the tattoos, the mark of his affiliation with the clan, a rite of passage into adulthood.

“Oh, my hometown,” he said, shrugging. “Tiny place, way south of here.” The waitress nodded, looking more closely at the tattoos.

“Well they’re great. I’ve got a few, but they make us keep them covered here—professionalism or something. If you’re ever in the mood for some new ink, John over at Madhouse Tattoos is great.” The waitress gave him another quick grin and left to put in his order.

It wasn’t until he was finishing the last bite of his sandwich and draining the glass of water that the waitress had refilled for him that Damon thought to take out his wallet. He slipped his hand into his pocket—only to discover that his wallet wasn’t there. Damon felt a flash of embarrassment, followed by a very real fear. He hadn’t brought any money.
Idiot. You fucking idiot.
He looked around nervously. He had no way to pay for the meal he’d already eaten. Why hadn’t he thought to check and make sure he had money on him before he’d even come into the diner? He had been so distracted when he left the motel that he hadn’t even considered grabbing his wallet.

The waitress dropped off the check and Damon felt his stomach lurch. He couldn’t just tell the woman that he’d forgotten his wallet—apart from the humiliation, he was sure it would cause at least a small scene, and the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself. She was occupied with another customer; the diner was doing a steady business, all of the servers distracted. If he could slip out, Damon thought, without calling attention to himself, he would be okay. He’d get on the bus and get back to the hotel and if the housekeeping woman wasn’t done with the room than that was her problem. Maybe he could tell Jennifer about the gaffe and she could help him get back to the diner to pay for the meal.

He slipped out of the chair quickly, glancing around to make sure that no one was watching him. Using the preternatural speed that came along with his dual nature, Damon took a deep breath and walked out of the restaurant, not giving in to the impulse to look around on his way. When no one shouted for him to stop, he stepped through the doors and turned obliquely right, trying to blend in as best as he could.