That morning, when he was ready for me to come apart, he applied just enough pressure to my special button to make me cry out as my pussy gushed all over his dick, clamping down in a way that sent waves of pleasure through both of us.
My tingling left shoulder bite let me feel just how much he loved the way I came on the thick cock stuffed inside of me. My fully stretched out pussy contracting around his huge shaft had become his favorite sensation in the world.
Maybe a little too favorite.
Usually, he came right after me. But that morning, he just held me tight, waiting for my climax to ebb before patiently building a new one with his still-rock-hard erection and masterful fingerwork. And then another. And another.
We might have stayed like that all morning if Mak and Ash hadn’t burst in, naked and dripping pre-cum.
“That’s enough of that,” Mak said in the same tone he used to issue commands when handling tribe matters. “Time for you to start making Christmas dinner, Little Bear.”
“No fair! You said I could have her to myself as my Christmas present!” Cody complained behind me, though his strokes quickened—as they always did when the rest of our maul was watching.
“And you did, Kodiak.” Ash’s voice was calm, but my right shoulder bite let me feel his simmering frustration beneath his composed exterior. Spending Christmas morning in separate rooms instead of flanking me in the altar nest had clearlystretched his and Mak’s Christmas generosity thin. “Now it’s time to begin preparations for dinner.”
“And I wouldn’t mind a big plate of flapjacks after Ash and I punish our mate for coming so hard on your dick I could feel it in my bite through a couple of stone walls,” Mak growled.
“Three times,” Ash added, folding his arms and pursing his lips like a judgmental priest, even as his straining dick continued to leak onto Cody’s fluffy carpet at a 90-degree angle.
Cody groaned at the reminder, gripping my breasts and pussy even tighter. “But I’m not done with her ye?—”
Mak flashed images into all our minds—graphic and unhygienic visions of what he and Ash planned to do to me on the quartz kitchen counter he’d sourced from a local quarry while Cody dutifully made flapjacks.
That did it. Cody came with a helpless bear roar behind me, his massive body quaking as he bit down on my shoulder and filled me with his release. The sharp pain of his bite was fleeting, healing almost instantly with the tingling glow of the bear magic responsible for our special Four Direction bond.
But we barely had time to come down from the pleasure of his delayed orgasm before Mak lifted me from the bed.
My polar bear, as I was quickly learning, always kept his promises and followed through on his threats.
True to his word, I found myself thoroughly punished on top of the kitchen counter. Spanked and spit-roasted across the quartz island while Cody made us all flapjacks.
Yes, this wasdefinitelythe best Christmas ever—well, at least until next year, when our cave home would be filled with whatboth Ash and my own bear confirmed would be two cubs. One would be another Kodiak like Cody and me. The other would be a polar bear, taking after Mak.
Apparently, Fresh Bites were automatically assigned the bear type of whoever claimed them first, but their progeny could choose their own bear assignment at birth.
“Maybe he’ll be better than me,” Mak said hopefully when my bond bite transmitted the news to him after my bear officially implanted their two eggs.
“That’s a lot to ask for,” I’d replied with a soft smile. “If we’re lucky, he’ll be just as wonderful.”
And that’s how I ended up being punished for hours for being “too damn sweet.”
But that day, we had to cut Mak’s punishment a little short. Cody would never officially ask for help preparing Christmas dinner—not even with Ash’s parent maul, Mak’s two remaining dads, Cody’s reverse parent maul (three moms and one dad), and three of his many Kodiak brothers all coming over. Still, after we’d eaten, showered, and finally dressed in something other than lounging clothes, our bond bites let us know he could use some extra hands—and a cup of hot cocoa. The real kind, not the euphemistic request he often made when his Kodiak felt frisky.
Loving mauls worked well together—I’d learned that over the last ten days, too. When you wanted the best for each other and could literally feel your mates’ emotions, anticipating needs and clearing obstacles felt as natural as breathing. That kind of synergy was especially useful when preparing a large, festive meal fit to feed a small village.
By the time the first knock sounded on the totem cave’s door, the den was alive with the scent of good food, hot cocoa, and holiday cheer. My soon-to-be in-laws didn’t hold back their appreciation when dinner was served, “oohing” and “ahhing” over Mak’s perfectly roasted moose, Cody’s honey-glazed hams with cranberry sauce, and the massive platter of maple-drizzled roasted vegetables that Ash and I had prepared while debating theories about the winter finale of our favorite sitcom,Space Ca-idiots.
But the warm camaraderie didn’t last long before the conversation took a sharp turn.
“So, since only our fully-khanuk son and Mak, a half-khanuk, are expecting cubs this summer, I’m assuming we’ll be having a traditional wedding instead of the usual Joining Ceremony?” one of Cody’s three moms declared, lobbing that argument grenade into the conversation before we’d even finished passing the bannock flatbread Ash had baked.
“Joining Ceremonies are easier on heavily pregnant mothers. Less physically and mentally taxing,” added Tarek, one of Ash’s fathers and the tribe’s former Pathkeeper—the Ayaska term for a bear-shifter doctor who manages both medical and mental health. I loved that both Ash and his father had double degrees in psychology and veterinary medicine. Honestly, human doctors could take notes.
“I vote Joining Ceremony, too,” Ash’s mother chimed in, though none of us had asked for their opinions. “I went into estrus and got pregnant with Ash’s second-oldest brother right after ours. If you do the same, maybe we’ll finally get our first grandcub before I’m too old to keep up.”
A slight flare of Ash’s bond bite on my wrist told me this was a long-standing complaint from his frustrated mother and fathers. Ash was great at keeping his emotions cloaked, but I could sense something about his older brothers had left a bitter mark on his otherwise happy and loving parent maul.
Speaking of absent siblings…
