Rapunzel And The Billionaire Bear: A BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance Novella (The Shifter Princes Book 4) Read online

  "You smell amazing," said Lance. He was so close to Zelda that she could smell him too. He smelled of fir trees and the memories of fresh, clean snow that Zelda held close to her heart.

  "You smell great too," said Zelda. "Is it cologne?"

  "No, babe, that's just me, that's all me," said Lance with a chuckle. "And I can tell that you're all natural too...I like that, a woman who is naturally beautiful."

  "Me, naturally beautiful?" asked Zelda. "You're mistaken. It's just these nice clothes."

  "No way, babe, you'd look even better out of them," said Lance. "Men don't care about pretty dresses. Women do. Watch." Lance got up and took his suit jacket off, and then, undid his tie slowly...before he undid his shirt, button by button. Zelda was entranced: her imagination couldn't fill in something random for Lance's mate mark, so his chest was blank, broad, and hairless, except there was a happy trail leading down past his fine leather belt and down into his pants.

  Zelda gulped as she looked further. Lance had something very interesting down in those pants, something that was growing. Her imagination may not have conjured up a mate mark for Lance, but it had charmed a snake into his pants. Lance's cock was thick and hard, its outline visible and detailed even through the thick fabric of the winter suit.

  "Your turn, princess," said Lance, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His pecs weren't the only impressive set of muscles. Even though it was winter, the polar bear shifter's abs could be seen through the layer of fat over his stomach that was meant to keep him warm and nourished for the entire winter.

  Zelda slipped the sleeves of her dress down and reached to the side zipper. She undid the zipper slowly before slipping the front part of the dress down and away from her body, peeling the fabric away like layers of petals around a rose being plucked for a game of 'he loves me, he loves me not', although in this case, there was no need for anyone to try and figure out whether or not Lance wanted something from Zelda. His lust for her was more than obvious.

  Lance held out a hand. Zelda took it and Lance pulled her up, her dress falling down to the ground, revealing Zelda, clad only in her lingerie, to Lance. Her undergarments consisted of a matching set of fancy French lingerie, black and lacy and sinful on most people, but it made innocent looking Zelda, who had big eyes and low experience, look like a fallen angel.

  "Do you like what you see?" asked Zelda, looking up at the big shifter before she reached and undid his belt. She would never have done something so bold in real life, but in her dreams, anything was allowed: there weren't any limits, especially in a dream where Lorelei wasn't around to tell her what to do. The shifter's pants dropped to the floor after she undid the button flap, revealing Lance's tight navy and white boxer briefs. The underwear had white piping in the dream, similar to a pair of underwear Zelda had seen an ad for in a catalog recently, her subconscious filling in parts of the fantasy with actual things Zelda had seen...although the physical sensations were unlike anything that Zelda had felt before, at least, before meeting Lance that very day.

  "Of course I do," said Lance, brushing his hand over Zelda gently. The palms of his hands, covered in the thick callus-like skin that was common to mammalian shifters, felt like a scrubbing mitt against Zelda's body. Lance got down on his knees because it was impossible for him to grab Zelda below the waist given their height difference. He gave Zelda a smattering of kisses on her legs, brushing the curves of her body from her thick thighs and round butt up to her nip of a waist and her ample bosom and following those paths with his mouth.

  Zelda's imagination couldn't fill in the experience of sex. It had no idea what sex was like, as Zelda was a virgin, given that she hadn't had a very active social life since she had started blooming. However, that didn't mean that Zelda had never felt sexual pleasure before. Like any curious girl her age, she'd experimented, but given that she didn't exactly have a way to buy sex toys, she used what nature had given her: her own two hands. That's why her mind came up with thoughts of in manual stimulation rather than penile stimulation: it was what her body knew.

  Lance reached up and pulled down Zelda's underwear, exposing her body to him. Her body was warm, plump, and curvy, just the way that shifters liked it. He balled the underwear and inhaled the scent of Zelda’s juice. Zelda had never seen anything so wonton in her waking moments.

  Lance turned and sat on the couch, bringing Zelda over by the hand, and placing her over his lap. He explored her folds using a single finger at first, and then, using two, rubbing over her petal-like layers and then entering her wetness slowly. The pads at the tips of Lance’s fingers made his fingers feel thicker than they were and they gave his strong hands a different texture than Zelda was used to.

  A common misconception is that strong hands make strong fingers. In reality, fingers are moved by muscles in the forearms. Stronger forearms are related to stronger fingers...and Lance had big, burly forearms, covered in a thick layer of blonde hair that could rival any Norwegian sailor’s beard, which were getting right to work on Zelda.

  Zelda's own hands explored below the sheets, running around Zelda's clit and her entrance. Zelda had never masturbated in her sleep before, but there was a first time for everything. It was proof of the already undeniable fact that Lance had made quite the impression on Zelda: no other man had caused her to have these sorts of primal thoughts, nor had they been able to cause her body to turn and twist on its own. While Zelda had met many of her mother's friends when her mother came to town to visit, Lance was the only one that could set her heart aflame...as well as the only one who could start a tsunami in her nether regions.

  Lance’s fingers were so long that he was able to not only enter her entrance with his fingers, but rub her clit, rubbing back and forth

  Zelda's fingers ran over her clit as she rubbed instinctively, sometimes, teasing her entrance, matching the motions that Zelda was imagining Lance performing in her dream.

  Lance’s fingers were able to reach into places Zelda’s fingers couldn’t reach, namely, against her G spot, the spot that had been begging for attention from Zelda for years. Lance’s finger pads rubbed against the spot and he looked down into Zelda’s big hazel eyes as he rubbed her up and down on his hand.

  “How’s that feel?” he asked, rubbing faster and faster as she bounced up and down on his lap. “Come on, babe, how’s that feel?”

  “Oh, Lance, it feels so good,” moaned Zelda, holding onto Lance with her arms around his thick, strong neck. She pulled him close, so her forehead was against her own, and they were nuzzling each other, back and forth, an act that was somehow even more intimate than kissing.

  “I want you to come for me, princess,” whispered Lance. “Come on, princess...can you come for me?”

  Zelda felt the pressure hit a point of no return and her body was rocked by a wave of intense pleasure as Lance held her and kept running his fingers in and out of her body, as well as over her clit, back and forth, as the dream faded to black...

  As Zelda came in her dream, she came in her bed, not hard enough to wake her up, but enough to leave her panties absolutely drenched with her own desire.

  ***

  The next morning, Zelda woke up and looked through her closet. Even though she was just going to be sketching, she wanted an outfit that would impress Lance. Zelda remember her strange and vivid dream, the first sexual dream she'd ever had, and she knew the dream was influencing her actions, but she didn't care. It had to be a sign from the universe than Lance could be her true love.

  One of the rooms in the penthouse, adjacent to the walk in closet, was being used by someone else. Zelda peeked in: her aesthetician, Ta Tran, was setting up, getting the pedicure and manicure stations ready, as well as a car with a wax melter and a set of orange sticks and pieces of paper.

  Zelda had forgotten about her weekly aesthetician visit. The aesthetician her mother hired couldn't speak English, only Vietnamese, and Zelda didn't know Vietnamese. The last woman had spoken Spanish, but as soon as Zelda
started to get the hang of using Spanish, the woman had been replaced. That had been one of a string of odd coincidences regarding the beauty professionals that had made the weekly visits to Zelda's penthouse. They were all professional young women who made Zelda look amazing, doing everything except for her hair, which was cut by an old Chinese woman who knew her way around a pair of shears like nobody's business.

  "Hello, Ms. Tran," said Zelda

  "Hello, Ms. Zelda," said Ta, looking over Zelda. There was large purplish bruise on Zelda’s face which sent a pang through Ta’s heart. "Pedicure?" She motioned over the pedicure station, which consisted of a fine leather chair attached to a basin filled with warm, bubbling water.

  Zelda walked over, kicked off her flats, and lay back in the chair, adjusting the massage setting so that she could get the sore in her lower back fixed. Although Zelda remembered her dream, she hadn't remembered the tossing and turning which had caused the morning soreness. The fragrant lavender Epsom salts made the hot water feel amazing between Zelda's toes.

  Ta got to work setting up the pedicure things, including a set of scrubbing brushes and pumice stones. She'd been Zelda's aesthetician for the past six months, and the pay was generous, as Ta's employer, one of her relatives who spoke fluent English and ran a salon, had arranged for Ta to work at the penthouse.

  Her employer had warned her that if she learned English, she would be fired...so she hadn't learned it yet. Still, Ta wished she could talk to her boss about things, to make her feel better, so the pair would talk back and forth, even though they had no idea what the other was saying. It was cathartic for Zelda to just have a way to talk about her life and her frustrations, so although Ta could rarely figure out what Zelda was talking about, she was glad she was able to give a shoulder to cry on.

  While Zelda's feet soaked, Zelda's aesthetician painted Zelda's nails a nude color before adding the white tips. While sometimes, the makeup looks would vary, the nails were always either nude or red, for special occasions, as Lorelei had not approved of any other colors, even shades of pink, white, or ivory. Zelda had at first enjoyed her French manicures, loving the way that the light shined through the jelly finish nails and how clean the French manicure tips made her nails look, but they were starting to bore her immensely.

  As Zelda's hands dried, Ta took Zelda's feet out of the tub and rubbed them down with the various tools, shaping both the nails and the feet themselves, until there was no excess nail growth or dead skin left on Zelda's feet at all. Her toes were painted the same pale color as her nails, although without tips, as her toenails were kept short, unlike her medium length nails, which were almond shaped from years of manicure services.

  The waxing was easy, at least, the brow waxing. Zelda leaned back and closed her eyes as Ta rubbed down her brows with an antiseptic toner. Ta put the honey-like hot wax over her brows before quickly putting down the paper strip and pulling it off, hard and fast. It hurt for a single second, but Ta was the best brow artist in the greater Seattle area and knew what she was doing. She took off any excess wax using an oil, tweezed errant hairs, trimmed hairs that were too long, and then, she rubbed the area with antiseptic done. She was done within ten minutes.

  The next kind of waxing was the kind Zelda dreaded the most. She walked over to the waxing table, which was already covered with paper. Ta was a fan of the French technique of mise en place, which meant "putting in place" in French. Ta was fluent in French, but did not use it with Zelda. Her mother had been a French pastry chef back in Vietnam and Ta had inherited her mother's nimble fingers and efficient mind.

  Zelda dropped her pajama bottoms and took of her shirt, removing her panties last, before lying back on the table, nude. It was more efficient for her to disrobe all at once. Ta first waxed Zelda's bikini area, giving her a full Brazilian, which hurt the most, but after that, it was smooth sailing. Ta waxed Zelda's legs, and even her arms, as per Lorelei's orders, and then waxed under her arms, pulling all the hair off.

  Once Ta had run the antiseptic and oil over Zelda's body, Zelda was flipped over to receive a massage. The hot stone massage was Zelda's favorite part of the week. It relaxed all her muscles and Zelda nearly fell asleep during the massage, because it was so wonderful. After the massage, Zelda got changed into her PJs again, and headed back into her walk-in closet so that she could finally pick out the outfit of the day.

  Should she go for fancy or casual? Zelda couldn't pick. The room was filled with outfits Lorelei had picked for her and usually her mother told her what to wear if there were going to be guests at the house, but she hadn't given her any guidance this time.

  Zelda looked through her dresses and finally picked out a premade outfit which consisted of a cream dress with black details, bits of thick black grosgrain ribbon replacing piping along the dress's edges, and a pair of ivory tights. The dress was meant to go with a pair of kitten heels, which were black suede with a gold heel. Zelda picked out a black set of lingerie to go with the outfit, because wearing it would make her feel as confident as she did in her dreams...or so she hoped.

  Being around Lance made her feel vulnerable. He was so much bigger than her, not only in terms of height, but breadth and width, as his body was as burly as, well, a bear's. Polar bear shifters were the largest of the bear shifters, and she had rarely met them, as most polar shifters stayed with their own, an exception among the rural shifter clans. She was surprised her mother had even met a polar bear shifter, given that her mother's line of business, which was consulting, didn't seem like the sort of thing a normal polar bear would need...but Zelda had a feeling Lance was not your average bear.

  Zelda looked herself over in the mirror and sighed. She had a huge bruise on her face and she had no idea how to cover it up. Zelda walked over to the aesthetician room, and knocked. Ta opened the door. Zelda held up her powder puff and motioned to the bruise. Ta nodded, and followed Zelda over to the makeup vanity in the walk in closet, looking over the products until she found the combo that would make Zelda’s bruise disappear, before she brushed Zelda’s hair back.

  “Thank you,” said Zelda

  “You’re welcome,” said Ta with a smile, before turning back to put her things away and head out.

  Zelda looked at herself in the mirror: she’d be able to trick Lance into thinking her home life was fine, but would she be able to convince him that she wasn’t full of butterflies? Her cheeks weren’t blushing bright pink like she was sure they had when they’d first met, the pale blush on her cheeks subtle and subdued.

  ***

  The next three hours of waiting were the worst. Every time Zelda heard the elevator running, she hoped it was Lance, but of course, if it had really been Lance, she would’ve heard him buzz the door.

  Bzzt! The buzzing sound finally came and Zelda rushed over to answer the alarm. “Hello?” asked Zelda.

  “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” said a husky man’s voice.

  “Lance?” said Zelda.

  “Who else, princess?” asked Lance.

  Zelda buzzed him in and in a few minutes, there was a knock at her door. Zelda tried her best to look casual. She opened the door: in front of her was the same man as the day before, but he didn’t look the same. They say the clothing makes the man: well, Lance looked like a different man entirely.

  Chapter Three

  Lance was wearing a pair of work boots, with worn jeans, and a black leather belt with a silver buckle. He was wearing an untucked shirt, underneath a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. In his hands were two big sets of plastic bags. His hair wasn’t gelled like it had been the day before, and there was no tie. The only things that were the same were his bright, sparkling blue eyes, and his big, burly bod.

  “Hey,” said Zelda with a gulp. Lance somehow managed to look sexier dressed down than dressed up. “Can I get you something to drink?” Zelda had to go to the kitchen to take her pills anyway, as she hadn’t yet that day.

  “Tea would be fine,” said Lance
with a smile.

  “Any preference to the kind?” asked Zelda.

  “No, I trust your judgment,” said Lance, following Zelda to the kitchen. “Where should I put these?”

  “What are they?” asked Zelda.

  “Groceries,” said Lance. “I thought I’d treat you to dinner.”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” said Zelda, pouring herself water but forgetting to take her pills, as her usual morning routine had been broken. “I usually get takeout.”

  “Every night?” asked Lance.

  “Well, Lorelei sends it, three square meals a day,” explained Zelda. “She varies the restaurants, or her assistant does.”

  “You eat takeout for every meal?” said Lance. “That’s...honestly kind of boring.”

  Zelda frowned. “That’s not very nice. I can get Chinese, Indian, Japanese...”

  “Can you get home made food delivered?” asked Lance. “That’s what I thought. Trust me, I’ve got a treat in store for you.” Lance opened the fridge: the fridge was a top of the line model and all that was in it was some half-eaten take out boxes. Lance moved those and made room for his ingredients while Zelda prepared the tea. Then, the pair moved to the living room with the tray of tea, which Zelda carried, while Lance carried the mugs.

  “The tea smells really good, what is it?” asked Lance as Zelda poured the tea.

  “It’s called lapsang souchong: there isn’t really a word for it in English,” explained Zelda. “It’s my favorite tea in the world.”

  Lance inhaled the scent of the caramel colored tea. It was leathery and smoky, like a pine-needle campfire. The tea reminded him of a Christmas tree in a cigar club. “This reminds me of my favorite scotch,” said Lance.

  “You drink scotch?” asked Zelda.