by Gabi Moore
He propped his hands behind his head and cocked his head at me.
“Are we ever going to get to all this savagery or are you going to keep telling me stories?” he asked, then yelped when I lurched forward to nip his shoulder with my teeth.
“You’d better watch out, mister, I’m the alpha female here, and you’re my chosen mate.”
I felt his cock bounce against me.
Still holding one another’s gaze, I shifted my weight onto my knees and knelt back, arching my ribcage to display my chest to him fully. I grabbed each breast and squeezed, rolling and teasing the nipples to points, still grinding wet in his lap. I tossed my hair so it fell over my shoulders and down my spine, then let my head fall and imagined that it was all true – that for this moment, we lived in a simple world. A world made only of sand and sea and wind and flesh, a world so close to death it was thrilling, so near to primal, unspeakable longings that there was nothing left to talk about, nothing to think about.
There was only doing.
Only fucking.
When I squeezed his engorged head into my pussy, it took my breath away for a moment. I tried to register how intensely thick and solid he was, how the sensation of being firmly opened by him sent little waves all through my hips. I was only three months pregnant but already I felt myself changing internally, shifting to become deeper and juicier. He groaned and arched his back to bring his hips up and deliver another slow inch into me, and then another.
We liked to draw this part out. Draw it out so slow that every inch of him deserved several breaths, till every part of him was deep and settled inside me, the perfect fit. I swear I could feel him grow bigger even still, crammed completely inside, his body expanding to take the shape of mine.
He tried to put his hands again at my hips but I firmly removed them, placed them back where they were and let him know with a stern look that I would be controlling things from now on. He bit his lower lip as I rose my hips off him, letting that gorgeous cock glide slickly out of me, then at the tip I lowered again, finding that sweet inside place once more, wiggling down to get even the slightest bit deeper. Just having him inside me was enough to drive me wild. Just the weight of that thick, heavy cock spreading me open inside had my pussy streaming wet onto my inner thighs. My body knew well what pleasures were coming, and knowing they were coming was half the pleasure itself.
The beach sand was cool and damp under my knees, and the trees whispered silky above our heads, casting down their mottled shade on our bodies. Far inside me, in some invisible place, something quivered with hunger. Something that only he could sate. I settled my weight over him, hovered parted lips close to his ear and began to slowly fuck him. My rhythm was inspired by the wistful rise and fall of the waves off in the distance.
Cheek to cheek, I pleasured myself on his body and he responded keenly, tilting his hips up to fill me, to move with me as I stroked that delicious spot inside and found myself inching closer and closer. When I began whimpering, his lips went to my cheek and planted dozens of tiny, soothing pecks there, encouraging me, daring me to go harder, go faster.
But I didn’t need any encouragement. I raised my body and arched my back again, throwing my full weight down on his cock and swirling my hips over him, then, still not satisfied, lifting and dropping onto him with a juicy slap, a feverish tempo that I didn’t want to stop for anything in the world. His clenched jaw told me he was right where I was. Right at that quivering precipice where going any further would mean surrendering to it all… and so we went for more, together.
All at once, his ab muscles crunched hard as he lifted himself up and sent me jumping off his lap.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he barked.
It’s not like I could have resisted, even if I wanted to. I obeyed and savored how a damper, darker sand was hidden just underneath the white beach sand, there when I clawed at the ground to stable myself for what was to come.
It was beautiful soil. Cool and deep and rich, fed from the ocean underneath it, half water and half earth, some perfect blend of hard and soft, yielding in my fists as I sunk my fingers into it.
I lowered my chest and raised my hips up, collarbones nearly grazing the ground, my hair falling into the sand and shells. This hair he grabbed in a fist and yanked back to bring my head back up again. I let my eyes fall closed as I felt him admiring me…
“I just want to remember this moment,” he said when I turned to gaze at him. He had torn off his trousers and was fully naked now.
“I want to remember what you looked like right before I made you come all over my cock.”
The kick of pleasure this sent through me was enough to make me want to come there and then. I shut my eyes and offered my ass up to him again.
We were the last two souls alive, who was to tell us what was right and wrong? What we could and couldn’t do to one another?
“Do it,” I muttered low under my breath, daring him.
He was swift. His hips came banging hard into mine, bringing the full, fat length of his brutal cock into me. I swallowed down a yelp and let the waves pass through me. Again he thrust, his now bare skin slapping against mine, and again he thrust, and again, till I could barely breath. His cock burrowed deeper into me with every pulse, reaching even those furthest parts in my body, those parts that made my whole body tingle and go limp from pleasure.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned.
His pace was strong and unrelenting. He knew that when I was this turned on, he could be as rough with me as he liked. Turns out, what he liked was to be pretty rough… He had me firmly by the hair, so that I couldn’t resist or squirm away from his fucking even by even one inch. No. I was to receive every part of him, to the full, right in my deepest, most tender parts. When I felt myself starting to come I could barely sputter out a cry. Because he didn’t stop, because he kept fucking me straight through, I came long and hard, each thrust drawing out my syrupy pleasure like taffy. I screamed long and loud when I couldn’t stand any more, and the bliss exploded right through me. He kept fucking me until he came too. Fucked me hard until I could feel his hips bump and shudder as he dug into me one last time and delivered that wet load of cum inside me, his hands clasping onto my hips for dear life.
“Fuck yes,” he growled and I felt his cock twitch and bounce inside me. I moaned and clenched around him, milking him, my cheek now flat on the cool ground as I came down from my own thundering orgasm. We both collapsed down onto one another, covered in sweet and sand, giggling at how disgusting beach sex turned out to actually be.
“That was fucking incredible,” he said, chest heaving, whacking the sand off his knees.
I turned to give him a mischievous smile as he settled down beside me. What could be more perfect than laying here nude on a beach, freshly fucked by a man that I loved, filled to the brim with the juiciest, most perfect part of him? What could be more perfect than watching the palm fronds sway and dance over us, first showing the blue of the sky, then hiding it?
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked all at once, and propped up onto his elbows to stroke the wild hair from my face. I shook my head. He kissed me. We were like two exhausted sprinters, celebrating after the finish line, muscles still twitching hard.
“Want to go for a swim?” he said eventually, and got to his haunches.
“Absolutely.”
We raced each other down to the shore, naked as the day we were born, but wiser.
And happier.
We kicked up the white foam as we splashed into the waves, laughing madly. We dunked under the water and let the cold wash over our hot bodies. It was the most delightful feeling in all the world. Todd let go of my hand and dunked under again, coming back up with a drop on each little spike of his hair. He shook it off and beamed at me, then fell backwards into the water to float on his back. I joined him, dissolving into the weightlessness of hovering just on the surface, the soft water lapping at my nude breasts, and slipping over the mound of my
belly.
My ears went deaf for a moment and I stared up at the blue. The water drops in my eyelashes caught rainbows as I gazed up at the blazing sunshine, blissful. I could still feel him inside me. Could still feel the aftershocks of coming, as he said I would, all over his juicy cock.
I smiled.
After we had washed ourselves in the salty waves and I had twisted my hair back up into a knot on the top of my head, we walked out and back to shore to retrieve our clothes. Todd was strong and noble-bodied. I was a little more inelegant, and I hobbled after him, my little stump well healed over but still gnarled and angry looking. None of that mattered to me now, though. This body of mine was a miracle. All the life that had been poured into it was a miracle; it was big enough to hold me, and beautiful Todd, and the new little one that would be here any day now…
We made our way back to the boat, salt-sticky and feeling wiped out, but happy. We had a few hours to make our way back to shore now, and I would let this island heal up like a wound, let the ocean close up over it in my mind and never think about it again.
I will never know why any of it happened in the first place. I will never know why the storm hit us, and why we had survived. But what I did know was the lesson it had taught me. Never again would I take any day for granted. If I didn’t feel like I was happy to leave my life at any moment, content with the choices I had made up to that point should death come looking for me again one day …then I didn’t want to make those choices. I only wanted those things I knew could withstand any accident, any calamity, any swift change in course.
I was older now, a little slower, a little more cautious. My heart had healed, even though the scarred parts were still gnarled and angry looking. I was one foot down, sure, and worse for it. But I had another foot. And hands. And a heart.
And best of all, I was alive.
- THE END -
Against All Odds
Blurb
She wasn’t my type.
Not even close.
So how did I end up here, in a steel container in a warehouse, feeling things I’d never felt for anyone before?
I couldn’t put my finger on why, but I just knew that after that night we spent together, our lives would change forever…
Chapter 1- Evelyn
I can keep a secret. And that’s the only reason why I am where I am today.
Ever watched those nature documentaries, the ones where two alpha males go at one another, fighting it out all horns and claws, trying to find out who’s the toughest and strongest so he can settle down and enjoy all the territory?
Well, I hate those documentaries.
I always thought, why is it the males who are called “alpha”? Why don’t they tell you all about the females those dumb male animals are fighting for, or say how they’re really the top dogs, when you think about it? I’ll tell you why – because those documentaries are made by men.
Not that I care much, honestly. The more big-ego, hot-shit alpha males there are to keep one another distracted, the easier it is for me to get what I want, quietly, behind the scenes. The trouble with being a woman is that you can’t play these big boy games. But then again, the good thing about being a woman is that you don’t have to.
The man on the other end of the line was possibly one of the biggest big shots in this whole city. The entire organization jokingly called him “Mrs. Robinson” because except for an elite few, nobody actually knew who the hell he was.
I knew who he was, though. A smart man, smart enough to stay out of the lime light, Angelo Valenti was one of those old-school mafia types you just don’t get anymore. He was cold. He played the long game, and completely obliterated his enemies, but I could respect him. And he wouldn’t have placed me in the upper ranks I currently dominated unless he didn’t have a little respect for me, too.
“You sure they’re not just bluffing?” I asked. I didn’t want to question his judgment, but we had been tricked before, and I was wary of letting it happen again.
“I want you to go down there, Evie,” he said. “Take Jack with you just in case.”
I knew that I would be sent down to the warehouse for Jack’s safety as much as he was sent for mine. Fine. I guess I could give up my Saturday evening to scare off some low-level street goons and, maybe, there’d be a little side bonus in it for me.
“Sure thing,” I said.
If he trusted his sources, I trusted them too. If there’s one thing I knew about this organization, it was that it was riddled with snitches and spies.
He hung up.
I had never actually seen Mrs. Robinson before. But that’s OK. Like I said, the most powerful people are always the most well-hidden. I flicked on my bedroom light and scanned around for my jacket. As I tucked my .22 into the waist band of my tights, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Not bad.
Good Italian genes give you a leeway of around 5 years or so when it comes to aging, I swear, but even still, I was getting on in years. A month ago I had found a tiny crinkle lines at the corner of my eye when I smiled. But then, I don’t smile all that much, so, problem solved I guess.
I never liked drug deals. In my experience, they were always about scared kids holding things up or some random cowboy trying to make a point when we all had business to tend to. Our business works so beautifully because we know how to manage and contain shit like that. We dabble in a bit of everything – drugs, women, weapons – but our strength is that we’re built on a system of compartments. Each compartment has a sub-manager. And when you put the hot-shit guys in positions like that, they get to feel like they’re running the show… the people who are really running the show aren’t distracted by any petty street-level drama, and everyone gets what they want.
Or at least, that’s how it’s worked all this time. Maybe I’m getting old, or maybe things really are different these days, but I don’t like the way the business is headed. Angelo Valenti’s son was a real piece of work, for starters. And managing his compartment for him was starting to take up more of my life than I was happy with. But that was OK, too. After more than ten years, I was on my way out. Sometimes, the only way to get out of a game is to play by the rules right till the end.
I yanked out my phone and gave Jack a call.
“Mrs. Robinson wants us at the warehouse,” I said as soon as he picked up. “He thinks there might be trouble with the kid’s new shipment. He doesn’t want the deal to get nasty.”
Jack took his time with a slow sigh.
“OK, stay put. I’ll be over in ten,” he said, and hung up.
I looked at my reflection again. It was a shame, what was going to happen to Jack, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the opportunity while I had it. I quickly grabbed a lipstick on my dresser counter and swiped on a layer of cherry red. I cracked my neck on either side, did one last scan of my untidy apartment and then waited patiently for Jack to pitch up.
Women can rise in this “industry” if they’re persistent and have the stomach for it. To succeed in this business, you need unflinching focus, smarts, and just a little bloodthirstiness. I think most women, whether they know it or not, are already deeply blessed in those areas.
Women are tough.
My grandmother birthed four of her nine children in a Sicilian spinach field during the war. She survived three husbands and the countless young bucks who came in there with their polished shoes and their hair triggers. I came from a long line of women who were tough as burnt nails. I was no exception.
Stupid men with king complexes would always be the norm. But women like me would always find new ways to work around that. In any case, this is a long way of saying: I never liked drug deals.
By the time I heard Jack’s car idling outside the front of the house, I felt mildly irritated at having to give up my Saturday evening. Again. Little Joey Valenti was making a mess again and big daddy needed me to swoop in and clean it up. The more things change, huh?
I grabbed my keys, z
ipped up my black leather jacket and pressed my lips together. I locked up, walked over to the car and took my time getting in. I wanted him to really have a good look before we had to head off to the warehouse and focus on whatever crap we had to when we got there. My jacket creaked as I settled into the passenger seat and looked over with a faint smile. He smiled back, then swung around, whipped the car into reverse and had the tires screeching as we pulled off and headed over.
Jack was …hot enough. Most importantly, he was there. Quiet guy, company-man, the kind that are thick on the ground in an organization like this. He had a broad jaw, a small mouth, and eyes that seemed like they were always focusing on something happening a few hundred yards off. He didn’t say much, ever, but turns out, I was in a stage of my life where what I needed from a man wasn’t exactly his conversation skills.
“Nice night,” I said to nobody in particular.
I had been trying to get this guy into bed for weeks now, and the only progress I had made so far was to get him to actually answer me occasionally.
“Yeah,” he said, and kept driving, steely eyes glued to the road ahead.
I adjusted my weight to ease the butt of the gun jabbing into my hips.
“Hey, do you know a lot about this new stuff? The stuff on the shipment?” I asked. Like blood from a stone, I swear.
He briefly flicked his gaze over to me but then back at the road again. I knew that in that split second he had noticed my tightly fitting jacket. He knew. I knew that he knew. But I was getting impatient.
“Nah. They say new stuff, but it’s all the same shit to me.”
There was something really sexy about how quietly you could speak in a car on the road late at night, and still be heard. Or maybe I was just really horny.
“Oh come on, really? You’re not even a little bit curious?”
“Nope.”
“They say it’s an aphrodisiac, though,” I said. “That it makes sex super intense. Like, you almost get to read the other person’s min.”