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ALIEN SHIFTER ROMANCE: Alien Tigers - The Complete Series (Alien Invasion Abduction Shapeshifter Romance) (Paranormal Science Fiction Fantasy Anthologies & Short reads)

Page 48

by Tanya Jolie


  He released her arms and she braced herself against the counter, milking his semi-hardness until it was hard and thrusting once more. The mixed fluid escaped down her leg and splashed between them as he pumped deep and hard. He made her come several more times standing there, until her knees were too wobbly to work.

  Castor took her into the bathroom and they showered away the messy results of their lovemaking. Carrie had never came so much and so hard in her life. When his fingers touched her, she jumped with the sensitivity of her flesh. “Oh no, no more. I am done.”

  He relented and soaped himself up. She played with the tattooed lines on his back, the face of a burning devil predominant. It should have made her pause, but she found it strangely erotic. When he turned back around to face her and turn the water off, she kissed him until they were both almost dry after stepping out. No other touch, but their lips.

  Castor pulled her naked to the bed, his body quickly covering her and his need pressing against her slickness. She moved away, trying to back away from his excitement. Her insides screamed at the idea, raw from his mind-numbing thrusting.

  “I have to get up early Castor. I need to get some sleep for a test I am doing tomorrow.”

  He nodded his head, his fingers playing exactly where he planned to be next. “I promise you will sleep real good tonight Carrie. I will put you to bed right.”

  His fingers pressed against her quim, her hips pushing upwards towards him in response. When his thickness slipped between her lips from above, she whimpered and groaned all at the same time. “So tight, you just shrunk right back up like I had never been there.”

  Castor plunged forward with his eyes closed. His lips touched hers as he brought her to pleasure over and over again. It was a great night’s sleep, but since it started at close to five in the morning, she woke up alone around noon. Looking at the clock, she cursed and jumped in the shower to get the dried reminders of their lovemaking off of her skin, as well as the sleep in her eyes.

  Carrie cursed to herself, not sure what she was going to tell her Professor to get out of it. He was not known for leniency, so she had to think of something good that would make her not be there for the test worth forty percent of her grade.

  ***

  Chapter 5

  “Was it worth it?”

  That was the question she kept asking herself as she waited for the professor to call her into his office. Professor Stone was the perfect name for the man. He never smiled and his grey-blue eyes were always void of any kind of emotions. He was a rock and a hard place. If she had to retake the class, it was going to cost her almost a thousand dollars and of course, the book was going to have a new edition for next term that she would have to buy. Failing that test and not being able to retake it, was just not an option as far as she was concerned.

  When he finally called her name, Callie stood up and could feel herself trembling inside. She wondered if he would be able to tell why she had been absent. Would he see in her eyes that she had been taken for hours and she was barely able to walk from the loving attention paid to her?

  Callie tried to look somber and hide the pure joy she felt inside as she thought about the night before. “Miss Conner, I was sorry to see that you missed such an important test today. I assume you had a crisis that made you unable to come, even though you have known about it for weeks?”

  She groaned inwardly and put on a self-depreciating smile. “I assure you that it was not my intention to be so late today Sir. While I wish I had some great reason for being tardy, I just made a mistake Professor. Stayed up too late and woke up long after class was over.”

  The older man’s grey eyes looked back at her and she saw a hint of intrigue and curiosity. “Oh really.”

  “Yes Sir. I was really hoping that there was a way that maybe I could take the test over again? Or do some extra credit, anything really.”

  Her last few words really made him sit up and listen. His eyes went right to the large rack he had watched dangled in front of him for several months by then. As he leaned forward, his hand came out to touch the tip of her covered chest. Callie pulled back and stared at him in disbelief. It was not what she had envisioned when the moment had played out in her head, but there she was. Her Professor thought that a feel up or maybe more was worth her the chance to retake the class. He was wrong and she pulled away once her mind got over the shock of all of it.

  “Pervert. Anything meant work. I would rather retake the class next year.”

  The stone went to life and it seemed the only other emotion he could manage was anger. He grabbed her arm hard, fingers biting into the soft flesh. “You may think you are better than me or too good for me, but you are the one in here begging for a do-over. Everything cost something. How badly do you want it?”

  His hot breath soured her look and her stomach and she pushed him away, trying to extract her arm from his rough grip. “Get your hands off of me Professor or I promise you that you will pay for it.”

  Her thinly veiled threat pissed him off and he squeezed harder, a murderous look in his eyes, but she was saved by several loud students that walked by and she took the moment of distraction to get away from him. She stopped running as she entered a group of people. Carrie did not ever remember being so scared all of a sudden in her life. Many thoughts ran through her head, but the fact that she would have to come up with tuition was small in comparison to what the old man had offered to her.

  Her phone buzzed in her purse as she was walking out to her car. She answered it when she saw who it was. “Wanna go for a ride?”

  Carrie bit her lip and wondered what she should say. She was still shaken up from the Professor’s attempts, but the idea of being with him, free on the bike, made the problems of her other life not so worrisome. She was starting to feel like she lived two lives. In such a short amount of time, Castor was all she could think about and she wondered how it would be to just go off with him and never come back. She could write and sing when she needed something, but with Castor, Carrie didn’t think she would need anything. While he tried to be gruff, his touch showed his care, even if his hard head could not.

  She met him at her apartment and when she invited him up, he turned the engine off on his bike. His hands were far touchier on the way to her apartment, cupping her bottom from behind. She giggled and tried to get away from his mind-shattering touch. “I’ve thought about touching you all day. I almost went and got you earlier, but I knew you were probably in school.”

  “Yeah well I woke up at noon, so I missed my test and my shift at Smashed.”

  “You have another job other than the bar and school?”

  She nodded and scratched an itchy spot on her upper arm as she poured herself a glass. Castor noticed that her hands were shaking and asked her what was wrong.

  Carrie wouldn’t say anything, not wanting to relive it or see his reaction to her what Mr. Stone had done. Carrie still wasn’t sure what was going on with them and the last thing she wanted to do was scare him away with drama. “It’s nothing. I tried to talk to my Professor about retaking a test…”

  She noticed him eying her and she looked down at the beginnings of a dark bruise coming up on her arm where the man had grabbed her. Her fair skin held no secrets, every touch documented. Carrie covered it back up real quick with her hand, not wanting to have the conversation they were about to have. “What is this Carrie? I didn’t do this, did I? I know I was really excited, but I don’t remember being that rough. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not from you Castor. It was perfect with you.” She tried to assure him, her head moving towards him for a kiss to assuage his mind.

  His dark eyes narrowed and she took a step back from the anger in his eyes. “Well than who put their hands on you like this. It is fresh, less than a day, so who?”

  Carrie was struggling with what to say to him. Finally she just said it quickly and watched the anger turn into rage. Before she could say anything more, he told her he would be back. C
astor had a look that made her think twice about everything she had thought about him. Then the man was gone and she was left wondering what she had just done.

  ***

  “He will not mess with you or anyone else again. This I promise you.”

  Carrie could see the specks of blood on his shirt and she almost asked what happened, but she realized then that she really didn’t want to know. Touching his bloodied knuckles, she pulled him into the kitchen and cleaned his small cuts in the sink. He had apparently punched the man enough to lose a large bit of the skin on his knuckles. What else he did, she was only going to guess.

  Castor let her fuss after him for a few moments and then covered the hand before he grabbed her up and kissed her. “I don’t want you to have to deal with all of this. Why don’t you take some time off and come ride with me full time?”

  It was said so offhandedly and if she had read between the lines as she was supposed to, he was asking for more than just a fling. Could he really want her as much as she wanted him? Was the feeling she had inside of her, so quickly after meeting him, reciprocated?

  Carrie didn’t answer, but instead grabbed his hand and moved him to the living room. She removed his clothing slowly, taking in the new marks that had resulted from her conflict. Kissing them softly, she moved back to his pants and pulled them down slowly. She teased the tip with her tongue and almost engulfed the head, but stopped and looked up at him. There was a desperate need in his eyes and her panties flooded with the look.

  Standing up, Carrie pushed him down onto the couch. “I have not properly ridden you yet Castor.”

  His eyes looked black as she started to pull her clothes off slowly. She slapped away hands that tried to sidetrack her. She got her shirt off, before he was pulling her down onto his lap. The skirt pushed to her waist and Carrie heard her panties rip as he pulled them to the side roughly. “Naughty boy.”

  She kissed him and moved his hands back with hers. She was making it clear that she did not want him to move. It was her turn to take control and when she finally positioned him with a roll of her hips, they both groaned with the penetration. Carrie could feel herself opening to him and her own readiness slide her down fully on top of him. Her inside clenched him and Castor’s hands went to her hips.

  “Let me.” Carrie pushed her tits into his face, distracting him from thrusting forward. She lifted up slowly, clenching the length as it pulled out, before slamming back down onto him. It took her breath away, her eyes closing to the pleasure derived. “Oh fuck.”

  She was losing her senses and all she could do was clamp down on him as more and more pushed inside. Castor’s hips rose slowly and she ground against his penetration. Every inch that could push in did and she wanted more. Her body moved slowly up and down on him, the friction and pull brought her to her brink in less than a minute. It was quick and took her breath away. Her movement became slower as each move brought her closer.

  Castor attached to one of her nipples and started to suckle, his own hands pushing her down harder. The added stimulation was all she needed, too much to not explode into a thousand little pieces. He had taken over again, his length thrusting upwards as he held her just above him. Watching his cock disappear again and again, Carrie squirted her pleasure out with each thrust down.

  “Are you mine Carrie?”

  Her eyes opened, but were glazed and hooded. Another wave of pleasure went through her and she closed them again to the bliss. Her arms weaved to his neck, holding on as his hips pushed faster. “Castor please.”

  “Stand up.”

  Carrie whimpered and started to get off of the couch. “No right here.”

  She did as he asked, standing above him on the couch. Carrie eyed the sticky hard cock underneath her, while Castor sat back and urged her forward. It wasn’t hard to see what he wanted and she moved towards his hungry mouth. Her pussy dripped with her essence and he needed a taste. His tongue came out to take his first taste and he growled with it. Carrie made a startled noise and moved her hips forward for more of the beckoning tongue. He was so hot and the tongue pushed her pussy lips open to touch the scalding button within.

  Carrie felt vulnerable and off balance. She knew the only thing keeping her in place was the hard grip on her supple ass. The man feasted while she clung to his strong arms. Pulling his mouth away, he told her to sit back down. The raging cock jerked beneath her and he could deny it no longer.

  She moved to slow and he pushed her down onto his length. His cock buried deep in seconds and her string of sanity was gone. The more she moved, the deeper he got and the more hysterical she became. It was too much and she pushed back against him. Her core was throbbing and every muscle in her body had contracted hard.

  His name was like a mantra on her lips as her insides flooded his shaft. The feel was too much for his battered senses and he too, found his end in that moment. Each convulsion of her insides brought him higher and then he had to pull her off when her tightness became painful. Carrie slid off of him and leaned against his chest, her body curled into his larger one. For such a tough guy, his touch was so gentle, the kiss on the top of her head so meaningful.

  Everything that she was so sure of did not seem so concrete and being with him seemed so much more important than classes that would teach her to be an artist. She already had the best muse she could ask for, his very touch like new strings in her soul. Carrie would go with him and live a life she knew would be exciting. As long as Castor was next to her, she could do anything. She didn’t have to answer his question because as he held her against his chest, they both knew.

  THE END

  Alpha Cowboy Versus Bad Boy Biker

  A Biker Romance

  Alpha Cowboy Versus Bad Boy Biker

  “So where’s your partner in crime this morning, Ella?” Ahanti asked, pouring steaming coffee into the mug that rested on the counter in front of one of her favorite customers. It was unusual to see the older lady alone. She was generally with her best friend Sofia, a tiny great-grandmother who was barely five foot tall and maybe 90 pounds soaking wet. The two of them had made a tradition of enjoying their morning coffee and pastry at Sweet Nothings, Ahanti’s bakery.

  “You are never going to believe this,” Ella said. She leaned forward, as if she was about to share a secret, but didn’t lower her voice at all. Ella only had one volume setting, and it was loud. “You know those Antique Roadshow people are in town?”

  Ahanti nodded.

  “Well, her Felipe went down there. And they filmed him. He’s going to be on the television.”

  “Big Felipe?” Ahanti asked with a raised eyebrow. That wasn’t something she’d expect from Sofia’s banker son.

  Ella shook her head. “No, Little Felipe.”

  “Oh, boy.” Little Felipe was nothing like his father. Ahanti knew the family had pretty much given up hope that someday he’d have enough ambition to be a slacker. “So what happened?”

  “He had some baseball cards,” Ella explained. “And on one, an old one, the player was black. Like you.”

  Ahanti nodded. “People are really interested in those old Negro League baseball players. That might be worth some money.”

  “That’s what the Antique guy said!” Ella was excited. “He had one of those cards. And it could be worth $10,000!”

  “Wow!” Ahanti said. “Good for Felipe!”

  “Well, you’d think that. But do you know what that malparido said?”

  “What’s that?”

  Ella looked indignant. “He said, “Well, that is good news because my parents have decided they don’t love me anymore and are kicking me out of the house.” Right on camera, he said that.”

  “Oh boy.” Ahanti shook her head. She knew Sofita was not going to appreciate having her family’s business aired like that. “Not that it’s not well past time they made that boy stand on his own two feet, but oh boy.”

  Ella nodded. “He has no sense. He is an idiot. And now Sofita is refusing to come out
of her house. She says she is too embarrassed.”

  “Why is she embarrassed?” Ahanti shrugged her shoulders. “Everyone she knows knows exactly how Little Felipe is. This is not news.”

  “But to have him say on television that his parents are putting him on the street…” Ella’s shrug was a masterpiece, communicating all of Sofita’s fears without a single word. “She doesn’t want people thinking they’re that kind of family.”

  “I don’t know a family that wouldn’t be fed up with Felipe at this point,” Ahanti said. “He’s what? Thirty-five?”

  “Thirty seven,” Ella said.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Ahanti said. “I want you to go see Sofita and tell her that I’m making lime tarts tonight.” She waved her finger at the older woman. “And there’s no delivery service for these tarts! If she wants one – and I know she does! – she’s going to have to get her little butt down here tomorrow morning.”

  Ella laughed. “I think that may just do the trick.”

  There was a loud rumble of exhaust outside of Sweet Nothing’s windows and Ella looked up, eyes wide. “Uh oh, Ahanti,” the older woman said. “He’s back again.”

  Ahanti stood up straight and smoothed down her apron. “Don’t you worry, darling. I’ve got this.”

  Sweet Nothing’s front door bells jingled as Laz Romero walked in. He was wearing dirty jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather vest with a gang patch on the back. His long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His mirrored sunglasses were pushed up on top of his head, and he was smiling.

  “Good morning, gorgeous!” he said to Ahanti. “How are you this morning?”

  “So far, so good,” she replied. “What can I get for you?”

 

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