by Ruby Ryan
"Oh fuck," he panted. "You feel so good..."
I kissed him again, and ran my hand through his straight red hair as I savored the feeling of him filling me completely. I let my other hand run over his shoulders and then his back, feeling the ridges and grooves of the muscles. We kissed passionately, slowly, not in any hurry while we remained joined at our sex and lips.
My hand reached his ass, and I couldn't stop myself from giving the meat a squeeze, and then he flexed it so hard that it instantly turned to stone under my palm.
"Ya like that, love?" he drawled, looking at me through eyelids heavy with lust.
I ran my other hand down until I was grabbing his tight ass with both hands. "What do you think?"
"I think ya'd like a little bit of this." He slowly pulled his ass back, allowing his cock to slide out of me agonizingly slow, one tiny grain at a time. I bit my lip as he smiled, pulling out all the way until it was just the tip of his cock inside, and I squeezed his ass tighter.
"Don't leave me," I said.
"Love, if I left you right now I think I'd die myself." Then he rotated his hips in a circle, allowing the head of his cock to roll around inside of me, pressing against each of my inner walls. The sensation was incredible, a wonderful tease, and based on his breathing it was driving him wild with lust too.
And then, suddenly, he thrust back inside.
It was a steady push, not too fast, an inch at a time until his base was pressed against my pubic bones and his cock was as deep inside of me as it could go. The pleasure was so great that it forced all the air from my lungs, and he was gasping too, his broad chest heaving against mine while his eyes drank deep from my pleasure.
He pulled back, all the way until I was certain he would fall out of me, but stopping again when just the head remained. And instead of lingering he pushed back inside immediately, a little bit faster this time but all the way to his base, then pulled back once more.
In and out he moved, faster and harder each time, until he was slamming his cock into me so hard it sent jolts up my spine. He kissed me, a quick peck to taste my lips, but then pulled back to stare into my eyes. I couldn't look away, and all I wanted to see was him, the pleasure of the expressions on his face while his breathing increased.
I squeezed his ass harder as if I were guiding his thrusts, demanding that he fuck me harder, and harder, and soon we were both panting and groaning in the darkness.
"Oh fuck," he gasped, running his hand into my hair to grip my scalp and hold me close, desperate to not let go. "Oh God! Ohhhhh!"
"Yes," I whispered, eager to see him cum. "Yes."
He cried out like an animal as he pumped me as hard as he could, the final one as deep as he could go, and his eyes widened almost with pain as he came, his meat spasming inside of me, shooting his hot redheaded load, and my own trembling pleasure mixed with the feeling that I'd made him cum so fast left me gripping his ass tighter and staring into his eyes so I would never forget.
He stopped panting long enough to kiss me again, then cocked his head. "You didn't cum with me."
I gave an awkward grin. "It felt really good!" Vaginal stimulation was wonderful, but I needed a little more than that to climax.
And then he pulled out of me and kissed down my neck and chest, and before I realized what he was doing he was moving his lips over my clit.
"Oh!" I gasped as he sucked the clit and skin, taking the entire thing in his mouth. I felt two fingers push back into my pussy, then a third, and he moved steadily as if we had never stopped.
I arched my back as he sucked on my clit, flicking his tongue against it at the same time. His fingers curled up and rubbed at my G-spot and I squirmed, tortured by the intense stimulation, being pulled toward my own climax faster than I had ever expected.
"I want to feel you cum," he said, breath hot on my navel. "Cum for me."
His fingers pistoned faster and faster while his tongue returned to my clit, a tornado of taste buds that made me clench my eyes shut. Everything was just right, the pressure of his fingers and the sensation on my bean, that I rocketed toward my climax like it was an unavoidable wall, and then I crashed through it, gasping with surprise and then ecstasy, and I grabbed a handful of his hair to make sure he never left my clit while I bucked into him, screaming.
I fell back into the sheets, and he crawled back up on top of me. He kissed me gently, and I tasted myself on his lips, and his smile was so beautiful I could have died right then.
"I..." I said, trying to catch my breath. "I still don't... know... your name."
He grinned a roguish grin from behind his cascade of hair. "I don't know yours either, love."
"I'm Harriet," I said, running a hand over his bicep.
"Pleased to meet ya Harriet," he said with exaggerated formalness. "I'm Roland."
Gryphons vs Dragons
Emerald Gryphon
Sapphire Gryphon
Ruby Gryphon (Coming Soon!)
Onyx Gryphon (Coming Soon!)
If you're looking for steamy shifter romance with a more science-fiction bend, you'll absolutely LOVE Karak Contact, the first book in my Alien Shapeshifters series. Click here to buy it, or keep reading for a special preview!
*
Where did you come from, Eric?
A mysterious satellite crash. A late-night car accident. And a stranger who looks shockingly identical to the man on the front of Joanna's book.
After hitting Eric with her truck in the middle of the Wyoming wilderness, Joanna has no choice but to take him back to her cabin. But his wounds heal suspiciously fast, and she begins to suspect his concussion is covering up some deeper secret.
She never would have guessed the truth.
When she discovers the man she's taken to bed is actually Arix, a shapeshifter alien from the Karak Dominion of Planets, it's all she can do not to run away in terror. But UFO hunters who witnessed the spacecraft crash begin snooping around her cabin, forcing Joanna and Arix to find a solution that keeps them both safe--which leads to them making an impossible, and downright crazy, decision.
KARAK CONTACT is the first book in the new Alien Shapeshifters romance series. It's a full-length, standalone science fiction alien shifter romance novel, with steamy love scenes that will leave you fantasizing about your own first contact. And of course, a guaranteed Happily Ever After!
1
ARIX
I do not know where I am.
Memory returned slowly; an alarming realization in itself. As photons held together with complex magnetics, we did not damage easily. Certainly not to the point of amnesiac degradation. But something was not right.
Something was abnormal.
As sight returned, I realized what had happened.
I was inside my ship, which had been damaged. The cockpit was in a chaotic state around me, electronics and metal alloys ripped open and damaged. There was gravity under me, not the artificial sensation generated by my ship but something foreign.
Something new.
I was in stasis during the trip, to be revived in upper orbit of my target planet. The sixth planet on my tour, the final one--and least promising--of the tour before returning home. A planet devoid of intelligent life, with only a quadrupedal species driven by urge and need. Primal beings that had yet to develop tools with metal or even stone.
Yet there I was, on the planet surface. It was abnormal, and abnormal was usually bad.
I used my mind to disable my magnetic restraints, allowing my photon-body to float toward the shattered plastic window of the cockpit. Beyond, the world on which I had landed was unfamiliar to the point of terrifying.
A flicker of thought and I have disabled such emotions.
The electronics of my craft are down, another nanosecond of thought confirmed. Only the powerless life support systems were active. No distress beacon. I needed to get a look at the external surface.
I returned my focus to the landscape. Tall vegetation with hard skin rose high into a dar
k sky. Ash fell gently from such sky; a quick scan told me it was frozen water in crystalline form, millions of tiny hexagons reflecting my body's light. I feel the crystals liquefy as they passed through my body, leaving a dripping trail behind.
I turned, and considered the sight for a very long time.
My ship was utterly destroyed. Beyond the cockpit, the primary fuselage of supplies was gone. So was the ion drive and the batteries to power it. What remained of the smooth exterior was riddled with dents and gashes as if it had been slashed by the claws of a giant beast.
It is good that I have disabled my fear processing.
And although there was no distress beacon or any other electrical signal emanating from my craft, there was something else.
Radio wave signals.
Dozens of them.
In the nanosecond of time after sensing them, I felt a determination bordering on hope. It had been 50,000 of this planet's years--a blip on the scale of my own Karak civilization--since our last scouting scans. No civilization could have developed from primal animals to radio wave communication in such a short period of time! Which meant another Karak scout must have noticed my craft's crash, traveled there, and then woken me from stasis. Safe in stasis, there would have been no reason to wake me before assistance arrived.
It was the only conclusion that made sense, and it was pleasing to realize.
I opened my consciousness to the radio waves and a chaos of noise and data bombarded me. It was overwhelming; I quickly narrowed my focus to one wave and processed what I heard:
Ohh ohh, I'm a rebel just for kicks now. I've been feeling it since nineteen sixty-six now. Might be over now, but I feel it still.
It was nonsense to me; a random collection of syllables and noise. And worse than that, it was foreign.
Something was very wrong.
I scanned through other wavelengths, but everything was similar. Nothing promising. Help was not there for me. I was stranded on this planet.
But the more immediate concern: from whom were these radio waves originating?
I sensed something artificial in the distance: a section of the biome which did not make sense. Something impossibly straight. Unnatural.
I moved in that direction, ignoring the sensation of the crystallized water melting through my body. As I moved I directed my photon gaze above. The sky was obscured by localized weather (likely the source of the crystallized water) which inhibited my ability to scan the star systems. That would have set my mind at ease.
I passed between the tall vegetation carefully, sensing the unnatural phenomenon growing closer. Suddenly the biome changed, the tall stiff vegetation ending with intentional abruptness.
There, ahead, was a long path of black material.
I neared and inspected it. The surface was eight degrees warmer than the surrounding ground, which was why the crystallized water melted upon touching it. It was approximately three of my body lengths wide, with rectangles of intentional discoloration spaced precisely down the middle. The path extended in both directions endlessly, tall clusters of vegetation framing it on either side.
It occured to me that I may be in danger. This was a construct of technological advancement; whoever had the ability to build this surely had weapons. I would need to proceed carefully.
Fortunately, we Karak had survived for our countless millennia thanks to our ability to shift into different forms.
I sensed something.
A disturbance in the radio waves to the left, approximately aligned with this path. Something was receiving the radio waves, and giving off sound waves in return. Caution was my immediate instinct; I prepared to return to the patch of tall vegetation to observe the disturbance from a safe distance.
Until I saw the light.
The object was giving off tremendous light!
Cones of photons trumpeted the object's arrival; it grew closer, and would arrive momentarily. Rather than shift into whatever the being's form was, perhaps remaining in my natural, photon-based identity was ideal.
Light for light. As it was with the Karak.
I re-enable my emotional senses and felt a burst of hope. Whatever species this was, they were of our kind. They would accept me, and likely help me.
Help me return home.
The object neared with great speed. I moved out into the path to greet it, to allow our photons to join in the Karak way.
I realized my mistake too late.
2
JOANNA
"That would be a mistake."
Harry, the bartender and friend I'd known for too many years to count, shook his head at me. "Come on, Jo. One more won't kill you."
"Two's my limit."
"I've seen you drink men twice your weight under the table."
"Sure," I admit, "but that's always out at my cabin. Or at the town New Year's party, where someone else gets to drive. I'm not fighting those slick-ass roads with more than two beers in me tonight." I arched a dark eyebrow. "Unless we've got Uber now?"
Harry snorted at the joke. In the small crossroads town of Elijah, Wyoming, Uber was an abstract idea more than a real thing. Something for the city folk to enjoy.
"Besides," I added as I saw Leslie coming through the front door, "my smut peddler's arrived."
Leslie, the town's single police officer, had switched into civilian clothes. She waved to a couple at a nearby table and joined me at the bar.
"Cold as the devil's tits out there," she said by way of greeting. She shook her upper body and peeled a scarf from around her thick neck.
"You're late."
Leslie rolled her eyes--not in annoyance at me, but in the circumstances. "You have no idea what my night's been like. Got a call from Warren, that Air Force base up by Cheyenne? Apparently some communication satellites collided in orbit and are crashing, or burning up, or something. I stopped listening. Point is, they made me stand outside with my walkie talkie and scan the sky for an hour to watch for debris. They've got every officer in Idaho, Wyoming, and Nebraska doin' the same."
I snorted. "On a night like tonight? With the cloud cover?"
"Exactly what I told 'em. Guess how much they cared?"
I shook my head, sharing in her misery. Then I shifted gears, and asked in an exaggerated conspiratorial voice, "You got the goods?"
"Only if you've got the dough." We stared at each other a moment longer before smiles cracked the mischievous facade. Leslie pulled a rectangle of warped yellow paper from a pocket and tossed it on the counter.
I grabbed it like it was the arc of the covenant and made an ooooo sound at the cover.
"It's a good one," Leslie said. "You'll like it."
The King's Officer was the title, and on the cover was a dark-haired hunk pulling open what looked like a British uniform to reveal a muscled chest. His eyes were almonds as he gazed back at me, with just the right amount of dark stubble along his jaw and cheeks. He looked more like a Calvin Klein model than someone shooting at American Revolutionaries in 1778.
"That'll do," I said, pointing at Harry. "Give the lady one of your finest drinks."
"So Bud Lite?" Harry asked.
"Good enough for me," Leslie said.
He grabbed a glass and started pouring from the tap. "You sure you don't want another before you go?" he asked me.
"Positive."
Leslie eyed the two empty glasses in front of me and gave Harry a look of reproach. "For Christ's sake, Harry, you know two's her limit! You tryin'a kill her?"
He placed the beer down in front of the off-duty cop and raised both hands in surrender. Leslie picked up the drink and toasted the air.
"To Jo's date night."
The scattering of patrons in our town's only bar raised there glasses and let out a half-hearted cheer. I waved the air like I was clearing away smoke.
"Just what I need, the whole town thinkin' about me reading this."
"We've all got our vices." Leslie wiped foam from her upper lip. "You gunna be back tomo
rrow?"
"You know it. Supply day."
"See ya then."
I waved goodbye to Harry and shrugged on my coat, then exited into the frigid night.
The snow fell peacefully around me as I surveyed the road. Nothing sticking yet, though by the looks of the snowflakes--which were practically the size of shotgun shells--it wouldn't stay that way for long. Another reason not to stick around for a third beer.
That and The King's Officer. Cheesy romance novels were the one guilty pleasure I alloted myself.
I climbed into my pickup truck, tentatively listened to the engine gargle, and then pulled out into the night.
Running and maintaining hunting property took up most of my time, even now with the hunting season still two weeks away. The deer roamed the two hundred acres of my property randomly, and although the fences were in proper shape they still managed to find their way through in the best of conditions. If a tree fell and took one down? Well, then I sometimes had days of work rounding them up.
It was harder when we ran the actual hunting lodges, too. But after Fred died I sold that aspect of the business to an external investor, leaving me with only the hunting grounds to maintain.
Interestingly enough, as technologically backwards as Elijah, Wyoming was, hunting was shockingly advanced. Hunters wore vests with GPS trackers attached, with radio relays as backup. That way no two groups of hunters ever came close to one another, ensuring things stayed as safe as possible. And all monitored from a central location. Long gone were the days of wearing an orange vest and hoping for the best.