Page 11 of Claimed by the Grumpy Shifter (Curvy Wives of Cedar Falls #5)

Mine.

Christine Parker, with her honey-blonde hair and soft curves and heart big enough to forgive a broken man his sins… She's mine. My mate. My salvation.

And she's a virgin.

The knowledge nearly breaks me. This incredible woman has never been touched, never been claimed, and I'll be the first and only man to know her body. It makes the bear roar with satisfaction even as the man in me trembles with the responsibility.

"Marc?" Her voice pulls me back to the present, to the vision of her spread before me in the back seat of my truck, half-naked and waiting. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I manage, my voice so rough I barely recognize it. "You're perfect. So fucking perfect."

Her panties are the last barrier between us, and my patience is gone. I hook my fingers in the waistband and tug, but my control is slipping. The fabric tears with a sharp ripping sound that makes her gasp.

"Sorry," I pant, staring at the ruined cotton. "I'll buy you new ones."

"It's okay," she laughs, breathless and beautiful. "Those were my cheap ones anyway."

"I'd have ripped them no matter what they cost." The confession spills out, raw and honest. "Can't control myself around you."

The bear is clawing at my control, demanding I claim what's mine. I can feel it just beneath my skin, fur rippling beneath the surface, claws straining to emerge. But I can't shift. Not now. Not when she's finally mine.

"Take off your pants," she says, her blue eyes dark with desire. "I want to see all of you."

I comply immediately, standing as much as the truck cab allows to unbutton my pants. Her eyes follow every movement, her breath coming faster as I push the fabric down my legs. When I straighten, still in my boxer briefs, she reaches out to trace the hard line of my erection through the cotton.

"Oh," she whispers, her fingers exploring with a hesitant curiosity that makes my cock throb painfully against her touch. "You're so big."

"All for you, sweetheart."

I push my boxers down, freeing myself, and her eyes widen at the sight. I know I'm larger than average—another gift from my bear genetics—and for a moment, I worry that I'll hurt her. That her first time will be painful instead of pleasurable.

But then she spreads her legs wider, an invitation that breaks the last threads of my restraint.

I'm on her in an instant, positioning myself between her thighs, the tip of my cock nudging against her entrance. She's so wet, so ready, but I force myself to go slow. To be gentle with this gift she's giving me.

"Look at me," I command, needing to see her eyes as I claim her. "I want to watch you take me."

She obeys, those blue eyes locking with mine as I begin to push inside. Her warm pussy makes me grit my teeth against the urge to thrust deep. I can feel resistance, the physical proof of her virginity, and I pause.

"This might hurt," I warn her, brushing hair from her forehead with a tenderness that surprises even me. "Just for a moment."

"It's okay," she whispers, her hands gripping my biceps. "I trust you."

I push forward, breaking through the barrier that marks her as untouched. She gasps, her body tensing, and I freeze, letting her adjust to my throbbing cock.

"Breathe, sweetheart," I murmur, pressing kisses to her face, her neck, anywhere I can reach. "The pain will pass."

"It's not bad," she says after a moment, her body relaxing beneath mine. "Just... different. Full."

I start to move then, small, shallow thrusts that gradually deepen as her body accepts me.

The sensation is unlike anything I've ever experienced, not just the physical pleasure, which is intense enough to make my vision blur, but the emotional connection.

The knowledge that I'm the first man to see her like this, to feel her like this.

The last man who ever will.

"You feel so good," I groan, increasing my pace as her discomfort gives way to pleasure. "So perfect around me. Like you were made for me."

"Marc," she moans, her hips lifting to meet my thrusts. "It feels... oh God... it feels amazing."

Her pleasure feeds mine, amplifying it until I'm drowning in sensation.

The bear is right at the surface now, lending strength to my movements, sharpening my senses until I can hear the rapid flutter of her heartbeat, smell the sweet musk of her arousal, feel every tiny ripple of her inner muscles around my cock.

"That's it, sweetheart," I encourage as she begins to move with me, finding our rhythm. "Take what you need. Take all of me."

The truck rocks with our movements, the windows fogging from our combined heat.

Christine's eyes are half-closed, her lips parted in silent ecstasy as I drive into her again and again.

Sweat trickles down her neck, pooling in the hollow of her throat before sliding lower to the curves of her breasts.

I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

"Mine," I growl, the word torn from somewhere deep inside me. "You're mine, Christine. Say it."

"Yours," she gasps immediately, her nails digging into my shoulders. "I'm yours, Marc. Only yours."

The bear roars its approval, and I feel the shift beginning. Not now. Not yet. I can't lose control, can't let the animal take over when she's so vulnerable beneath me.

But my body has other ideas. I can feel the fur rippling beneath my skin, my muscles swelling with the change. My senses sharpen further, until I can smell not just Christine's arousal but the specific chemistry of it, the hormones and pheromones that mark her as my mate.

I increase my pace, driving into her with a force that would worry me if I couldn't feel her responding, couldn't see the pleasure overtaking her features. I need to finish this before the shift takes me completely. Need to claim her fully as a man before the bear emerges.

"Marc," she moans, her body tightening around me. "I think I'm... I'm going to..."

"That's it, sweetheart. Come for me. Let me feel you." I grind against her, making sure to hit the spot that makes her gasp with each thrust. "Let go. I've got you."

She orgasms, her body arching off the seat as pleasure overtakes her. The sight of her coming undone beneath me, around me, is enough to trigger my own release.

"Don't stop," she begs, her eyes wild and desperate. "Finish inside me. Please."

The permission is all I need. With a roar that's more animal than human, I bury myself to the hilt and let go, emptying myself deep inside her. The bear howls its triumph as I mark her in the most primitive way possible, my seed filling her, claiming her.

But the victory is short-lived. As the waves of pleasure begin to recede, the shift reasserts itself with undeniable force. I can feel my bones beginning to change, my hands transforming into something that could hurt her.

"Marc?" Christine's voice seems to come from very far away. "What's happening?"

I have to get away from her. Have to protect her from what I'm becoming. With the last shreds of my human control, I pull out of her warmth and stumble toward the door, nearly ripping it from its hinges in my haste.

The cold night air hits my overheated skin like a shock, but it does nothing to stop the transformation. I stagger into the darkness behind the gas station, my body twisting and reshaping itself with painful ardor.

"Marc!" Christine's voice follows me, along with the sound of fabric rustling as she tries to follow. "What's wrong? Talk to me!"

I want to tell her to stay away, to run, to forget what she saw.

But it's too late. The bear has emerged, six hundred pounds of muscle and fur and primal instinct.

I'm trapped inside it, watching through its eyes as Christine appears at the edge of the tree line, her clothes hastily pulled on, her face confused and concerned.

She freezes when she sees me, her eyes wide with shock. "Marc?"

The bear—my bear—recognizes her voice. It knows her scent. And instead of attacking or running, it simply sits back on its haunches and waits, watching her with what I can only describe as expectant patience.

This has never happened before. In all the years I've been shifting, I've never maintained this level of awareness, this control over the animal. But then, I've never shifted with my mate present.

"It's you, isn't it?" she asks, taking a hesitant step forward. "Marc?"

I nod the massive bear head, a gesture so human it must look absurd on such a creature.

"You're a... a bear? Like, a werewolf but with bears?" She takes another step closer, and I'm stunned by her courage. "That's why you ran? Because you were turning into... this?"

Another nod.

"Can you change back? Can you explain what's happening?"

I concentrate, focusing on my human form, on drawing the bear back inside.

It resists at first, but the presence of our mate seems to calm it, to make it more willing to yield control.

The shift reverses, a process almost as painful as the original transformation, until I'm kneeling naked on the floor, human once more.

"Christine," I gasp, my voice raw from the change. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to find out like this."

She approaches slowly, still cautious but not running. Not screaming. "What are you?"

"A bear shifter." The words feel strange on my tongue after so many years of keeping the secret. "I was born this way. It's genetic."

"Like a werewolf." She says it again, and there's a hint of wonder in her voice that gives me hope.

"Similar but bears instead of wolves. There are others like me, but not many." I reach for her, half-expecting her to flinch away. She doesn't. "I understand if you want nothing to do with me now."

"Are you kidding?" To my complete shock, she actually laughs. "This is... well, it's insane, but it explains so much. The way you look at me, the intensity, the possessiveness."

"You're not afraid?"

"Should I be?" She kneels in front of me, close enough to touch. "You didn't hurt me. You ran away to protect me."

"I could have hurt you. The bear isn't always so controlled."

"But it was this time. Because of me?"

She's too perceptive by half. "Yes. Because of you. Because you're my mate."

"Mate?" Her eyebrows rise. "Like, soulmate? Fated to be together kind of mate?"

"Exactly like that." I take a deep breath, preparing for rejection. "I knew it the moment I saw you. My bear recognized you as mine. That's why I've been so... intense. So focused on you."

"Huh." She sits back on her heels, processing. "You know, this is crazy, but it actually makes sense. I felt it too. This pull toward you. Like I'd been waiting for you without knowing it."

Hope flares in my chest. "You believe me?"

"I just watched you turn into a bear, Marc. I think we're past the point of disbelief." She reaches out to touch my face, her fingers tracing the curve of my jaw. "Besides, I read paranormal romance. This is straight out of chapter seven."

The absurdity of it—of this sweet, incredible woman accepting my supernatural nature with a literary reference—makes me genuinely laugh for what feels like the first time in years.

"Seven, huh? What happens in chapter eight?"

"Usually the hot sex scene, but we've already covered that." She grins, and there's a mischievous light in her eyes that makes my heart swell. "Chapter eight is also when the heroine decides to stay with her supernatural lover despite the dangers."

"And does she? Stay?"

"Always." She leans forward, pressing her forehead to mine. "Always."