Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle

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Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle Page 29

by Champagne Jackson


  I didn’t even care what happened. It was so magical, so glorious, to feel a man inside me, and especially this man—what a man! His cock was so full and thick and his cum felt so good… I even secretly savored the idea, deep within my heart of hearts, of his cum taking root and beginning to quicken in my aching womb, filling my belly as my body begins to swell and grow… Oh, what a scandal it would cause… The idea was succulent to imagine.

  “Oh, shit…” he moaned as he gripped my ass, his dirty fingernails almost drawing blood and cutting into my soft skin. I could only take it, accepting the scratches.

  The sudden pain elicited a gasp from my lips and before I knew it, the waves of orgasm were washing over me as well. I gripped my tits hard, squeezing my nipples, wincing and whimpering the pleasure into every cell of my body. God, but it was glorious. And painful and delicious and amazing all at once.

  “Oh, god, it’s so good…” I whined as my body burst into blossoms of pleasure, my pussy spasming around his cock, my ass shuddering and my insides convulsing. My orgasm seemed to go on forever, with those few seconds of divine pleasure stretching out into an eternity of ecstasy. Finally, I finished. I rolled off Dario and lay next to him, his cum dribbling out of my well-fucked pussy. I felt so sloppy and wet and perfect.

  We enjoyed our afterglow there together for several minutes, the thickness and scent of our pleasure and love-making hanging over us like thunder clouds on a summer’s evening.

  The Damned

  I watched his thoughtful, stony face, the contours of it, and tried to fathom what might be going on inside of it. For his part, he completely avoided meeting my eyes. I had know idea what he was thinking and it seemed to me that that was exactly how he wanted it.

  “What will you do now?” I asked finally after several minutes of silence. Dario had lit a cigarette and the smoke pooled into thin clouds over us. As it drifted near my face, I coughed and blew it away as best I could.

  “Go on the run, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “By now, there won’t be that many of us left.”

  “Who’s us?”

  “The Damned,” he answered. “That’s what that was—with the two knuckleheads who came after me. It was a move against our club—a move to ice all of us. The Damned are over, I’m willing to bet.”

  It was a somber moment and we lay in sober silence. I wondered if he expected me, as a woman of the cloth, to say something, to offer some sort of solace for his fallen comrades. I couldn’t think of anything to say and besides, he didn’t ask me to say anything.

  “But I’ll keep wearing the colors, until they find me and kill me,” he said with grim confidence. “I’ll be the last of the Damned, if I have to be. They won’t kill the club till they kill me. And damned if I don’t take some of those assholes with me.”

  “Why don’t you just… stop? Why don’t you get out of this life?” I asked, perplexed. “You could run. Change your name. Do something else. Go to a different state, maybe. I bet they wouldn’t find you. Or maybe go to the police and get into the witness protection program in exchange for testimony.”

  My father was a lawyer and that just seemed like the natural thing to do. But Dario shook his head.

  “Nah, you don’t understand. It’s not so easy. Once you’re in this life, you don’t leave it. You’re a prisoner.”

  Oh, but I did understand. I knew exactly what he was talking about. The thing was, the life Dario led was one he loved. I could tell—could tell that he loved the open road, the freedom of being in his club, of living outside the every day world that all the rest of society seemed so interminably stuck in. The life I lived, though, I would leave in a second. If I could.

  “I think I understand better than you realize,” I replied finally, after thinking it over. “Only one of us is technically celibate.”

  Dario looked around.

  “I don’t see no one like that ‘round here.” I punched his arm playfully.

  “Hey, why don’t you come with me?” he said after a pause, taking a drag on his cigarette. My heart stopped.

  “What? With you?”

  “Yeah. I got my bike stashed over by the highway. You can just… run away. Get the hell out of this shitty convent. Don’t tell me you’re gonna’ stay after this. You broke your vows.”

  I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Dario… I have to stay.”

  “Why? Why not come with me?”

  “I just met you.”

  “How long did you know you wanted to be a nun before you became one?”

  “I didn’t become a nun by choice.”

  “So, choose to do something for once in your life!” he said, a little too loudly. I had to hush him—I was still paranoid about someone from the convent overhearing us.

  I shook my head. Tears were coming to my eyes. I was scared and I wanted to go with him but I couldn’t make myself. I just couldn’t. I can’t explain now why I didn’t go with him then but it just seemed so impossible, the world outside the convent walls looming so large, so strange and new. I was afraid. I was like one of the cave dweller’s in Plato’s allegory—stretch your minds now—who can’t leave the cave because the cave is all she’s ever known. I couldn’t leave, even though I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here.

  Finally, Dario staggered to his feet. I was surprised by his resiliency, his ability to bounce back. He had been gushing blood only a few hours ago and now, he stood to his full height. I realized that he was tall—very tall, at least six and a half feet. It hadn’t been apparent to me initially because he had been on the ground for almost the entire time I had known him.

  “Well, then, I’ll leave you to… whatever this is.”

  He gestured vaguely at my garden, and towards the convent beyond the trees. I suddenly felt very naked, like Eve in the Garden of Eden. I had been seduced by the snake and I wanted to go with the snake, to leave the garden. I blushed and tried to cover myself. Just like Adam and Eve had when they realized they were naked. Oh, how the mighty and holy have fallen, I reflected in shame and, strangely enough, profound satisfaction.

  “Take care of yourself, Dario,” I said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

  He reached out to take me in his arms once more and kiss me but I drew back. He sighed.

  “You too, sister.”

  ~

  I returned to the convent late that evening. I was late for evening prayers and so I faced a punishment—a hundred Rosaries over the course of the night.

  Honestly, that’s not even that big a deal. I started off saying them and then, eventually, I found myself trailing off, starting over, and finally giving up. I just pretend to mouth the words and I fingered my rosary beads and for all intents and purposes, it looked as though I were dutifully saying my prayers.

  Weeks passed. The fact was, I missed Dario and I missed him bad. I wished I had gone with him. If I could go back and smack that silly girl in the garden with him, I would do it. I would yell at her to run, run far away from this place. Get out while I still could, before I became crusty and old like the mother superior.

  I felt bolder now. My loins still ached from riding Dario and I felt, somehow, older than the other nuns, for I had experienced more. I had known a man, and more than once, but also recently: I knew what we were all missing out on, the feel of his muscles under my fingers, the feel of his cock inside of me, the feel of his lips on mine. It drove me mad to remember it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop reminiscing about that one afternoon.

  It was one night, six weeks later, when I lay in my bed, unable to sleep.

  My windows were open, casting pale moonlight on my dull, uninspired room—the usual accommodations for nuns. As usual, I was thinking about Dario. I wondered if this were healthy—certainly, I shouldn’t be obsessing so much over one man…

  And then I heard it. It sounded like… Climbing? Two hands appeared on my window sill and my eyes widened. I tried to draw closer to myself in bed, almost c
urling up into a fetal position but keeping my eyes directly on the window. Who the hell was that? A burglar? He had to know this was a convent—we didn’t have anything of value… Except a lot of virgins. Shit.

  The burglar climbed into the window. He wore a black ski mask, a black leather jacket, what seemed like black jeans… And he was tall. Could it be?

  “Dario?” I whispered into the darkness. The figure pulled his ski mask up, just enough so I could see his mouth. He drew a gun and leveled it at me. Okay, maybe it wasn’t Dario.

  “You’re coming with me, sister,” the burglar growled. I nodded silently—what else was I going to do?

  “Can I grab some things?”

  “Two minutes.”

  I got out of bed and very deliberately packed jeans, underwear, bras, any clothing I thought I would need. I have a small day bag that I used to take to visit my parents. I haven’t visited them since Thanksgiving of last year now, though, so it has mostly stood empty and unused. I filled it now with clothing and even tossed in my copy of Dante. Why not, I figured.

  The followed the burglar to the window and as I peered over the sill, I saw a latter leading from my window down. Not too subtle but it was night time at a convent in a remote location, so who was going to see it?

  We descended the latter and I followed the burglar through the convent grounds. Finally, we came to his motorcycle, just outside of the walls. It was a powerful, beautiful machine: a classic Harley and way bigger than I would have thought it would be.

  There were flames painted along the side but they weren’t nearly as cheesy as you would think they would be. They were faded and dusty, so clearly, this bike was not a showpiece item. It was meant for riding.

  Now, the burglar pulled off his mask. In the pale moonlight, I saw that my first suspicion had been correct. It was Dario.

  “Oh, god, I missed you,” I gasped as I flew into his arms. He pushed me away, though. He gestured at me with the gun.

  “There’s a helmet on the bike. Get on. We’re leaving.”

  “Okay, but—“

  “No buts. Don’t think you know what this is. I’m kidnapping you. You’re a liability.”

  Liability. That word rang through my head. It scared me. With numb fingers, I put on the helmet. I couldn’t manage the chin strap so Dario eventually, scowling, had to help me with it. He got on the bike and I hesitated for a second.

  “Get on,” he ordered again, the barrel of the gun pointed at me. Biting back tears, I got on and wrapped my arms around his waist.

  What had changed? How was he like this? Why?

  These questions ricocheted through my head as we tore down the highway, away from the convent, away from my old life. The lights of the highway seemed to laugh at me along the way, seeming to mock my childish, girlish dreams.

  Did I really think this biker, this criminal—did I really think he was in love with me?

  Did I really think he would be coming back for me, to save me from my ghoulish life like some sort of knight in shining armor? No, no, no. He was nothing of the sort. He was a cold-blooded criminal and nothing but. How had I been so blind?

  Even now, I hugged him close and the wind whipping by my face tore the tears off my cheeks.

  We stopped at a motel along the side of the highway. Dario handcuffed me to the bike and went to get us a room. He came back five minutes later, key in hand. He uncuffed me and jabbed the gun into my back, forcing me to march into the room.

  Once we were inside and the door was locked, he stuck the gun into the waist of his pants.

  “Dario…” I whimpered. “What did I do?”

  “You saw me. You’re a liability,” he answered coldly, not looking at me. His handsome face was troubled, tormented.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Damned are on the run. There are only a handful of us left. We’re going into hiding and anyone who’s seen us, who knows we’re still around, who could direct the Huns to us—“ I was guessing the Huns were another motorcycle club. “—needs to be eliminated.”

  “No, Dario, please…” I whimpered, tears coming to my eyes. “You can’t. What about the time we spent together?”

  “You should have come with me then,” he growled, not looking at me.

  Of course. That was it. That was why he was upset—because I didn’t come with him. I knew I should have and I regretted it.

  “I know. I know I should have. I can’t tell you how many times I wished I had.”

  I went to him, wrapped my arms around him, and leaned my head on his chest. He pressed his lips into my hair.

  “You still can,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I can plead your case to the higher-ups. They told me to kill you but shit… Imani, I can’t do it.”

  “Then don’t,” I whispered, sliding my hands behind him and finding the gun. I took it out of the waist of his pants and tossed it to the side, behind the bed. I began to strip off his jacket, kissing him as I went. Our tongues dueled deliciously as we savored one another.

  “I’ve dreamt of this for so long. You were all I thought about,” I whispered huskily. “I’m so glad I met you… If only for an afternoon.”

  Dangerous Liaisons

  He only responded by kissing down my neck, eliciting hot whimpers from my lips. I gripped his strong shoulders and slid my hands down, down, down his powerful body, finally coming to his belt. I began to undo it, and I unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard, throbbing cock. I knew what to do.

  I kissed the tip and began to slide my tongue along the hard shaft, tasting his hot, hungry flesh. He sighed with pleasure, running his fingers through my hair as I kissed and suckled his skin.

  He wanted this. I could tell. It was apparent from the way his pale skin burned, like it was filled with fire, like molten lava ran through his veins.

  I took him in my mouth. I let his cock impale my mouth, sliding it down my throat. I gagged very slightly but I found him sliding deeper and deeper into my mouth and then I started to bob my head, hungrily, as though I were a prisoner just given her last meal before execution.

  “Oh, fuck…” he groaned, his voice husky and aching for me. I loved the feeling of his hot cock in my mouth. Oh, how I had missed this… My mouth slicked his hot dick with spit and I went to town on him, devouring his shaft and letting him slide all the way down into my throat, deep throating him like a porn star.

  As a kid, my girlfriends and I had practiced doing stuff like that with bananas and I was glad that the practice had finally come in handy.

  I bobbed my head faster and faster, gobbling up his cock and swirling my tongue around his shaft, savoring the taste of his hungry flesh.

  “Oh, shit…” he moaned. “This is so fucking good…”

  And then he was cumming. His hot seed spilled out of his cock, spraying into my mouth, down my throat. I drank it all up obediently, swallowing his salty seed, a trail of cum dribbling out of my mouth as his cock twitched and pumped inside of my mouth.

  I loved the feeling of his hot, fleshy shaft pulsing inside my mouth: the way I felt his cock shoot out, the way his shaft throbbed and swelled right before the moment of release. The way I could feel his seed slide from his balls up his shaft right to the point of it flooding my mouth.

  “That was incredible,” he sighed as I pulled off his cock, wiping the cum off my lips and licking my fingers. God, I wished I had been doing this for the last few years. What had I been doing with my life? What had I let them force me to do with my life?

  Now, he threw me onto the bed. In an instant, my clothes were off—I couldn’t tell you exactly how that happened but he all but ripped them off, discarding them in a pile in the corner.

  I was naked before him, as I had been before, but I wasn’t ashamed this time. Out of habit, I started to cover myself but I caught myself, stopped myself. I forced my own arms away from my breasts and spread my legs a little bit, showing him everything. I was willing to be naked before him. I wanted to be naked before him.


  “Wow,” I heard him whisper softly. He took one of my nipples in his mouth as he began to stroke me between my thighs, starting down by my knee and running up along the soft, sensitive flesh of my inner thigh.

  I sighed, stroking his hair and whimpering as his hand came closer and closer to my aching, throbbing pussy. I was incredibly wet, and sitting on the motorcycle for twenty minutes definitely hadn’t helped matters.

  Finally, his fingers grazed my pussy lips. I yelped in delight, my hips bucking as he got close.

 

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