Alpha's Claim

by 10 Author Anthology

  “Your initiator?” So there was another woman in his life after all?

  He shook his head, like he’d heard the question in her mind. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re my forever one, Racine.”

  She felt herself blushing. “Oh.”

  Could Racine really overcome her deep-seated apprehension just by touching him there? She imagined herself taking his cock in her palm, cradling it gently, then wrapping her fingers around its limp girth and stroking until it grew hard.

  But the way it moved on its own, the way it wagged and flitted as it did … how could she possibly touch it?

  “I’ll never be fearless.”

  “But do you want to be?” he asked.

  “Of course.” Her heart raced when she imagined herself the way she might be, wanting and taking without apprehension.

  “I knew it was in you,” Boh said. “I knew it from the first time I saw you outside. I knew I’d be your initiator, and I would change you forever.”

  “You have,” she said.

  That made him laugh, for some reason. “You want change? Just you wait and see. After today, you will never be the same. All you have to do is reject fear and embrace … me.”

  “Okay. I can do this.” She repeated this mantra as she slipped from the bed, letting her body take over and her mind shut down. Closing her eyes, she grasped his thighs. Her lips parted, and he found his way inside. Once her mouth had closed around his shaft, it danced against her tongue like silk. How could his cock be so soft, and yet so hard?

  “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he said as she sucked his snakeskin cock. “Go easy.”

  Racine sucked harder, drawing him fully into her mouth before releasing him slowly. Was it torture for him? Probably. She built her pace, getting quicker, rougher, really enjoying the sensation of his erection against the soft walls of her mouth.

  “Oh no,” he moaned. “I’m almost there. You don’t know what’ll happen.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said around his cock. “I’m not afraid.”

  As soon as those words left her mouth, a strange sensation coursed through her body. Boh’s thighs seized. His cock pulsed repeated against her tongue as he spilled his seed cleanly down her throat. She felt hot from the inside out. Burning. Blazing.

  As always, Boh’s form altered once he was spent. His limbs retreated, his dark skin changing in texture to a smooth sheet of diamonds. He grew smaller, more serpentine.

  And then he grew larger again, but remained a snake. What on earth? This had never happened before. Was Boh growing?

  No, because the bedroom got bigger, too. All the furniture looked huge while Racine’s arms and legs felt dizzy and distant. She felt stretched in all directions as the snake she loved coiled longingly around her body.

  “What’s going on, Boh?” Her voice was a hiss, and her tongue … cripes, why was her tongue so long?

  “Don’t be frightened,” he said. “We’re one and the same now. No more secrets, no more fears.”

  It seemed impossible to love a man so ardently she was transformed by that very love. But how could she deny it? As Boh’s sleek black body writhed against hers, Racine understood: like the creature she’d met by the fire, who’d grown into a man and taken over her heart, she, too, was both human and beast.

  The End

  www.gisellerenarde.wix.com/erotica

  CAIT’S BUFFALO

  Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Copyright© 2014

  Ten thousand stars shimmered in the autumn night sky, each one a diamond burst of brilliant light against black velvet. Cait watched stray sparks from her small campfire rush upward as if they could merge with the stars. The glowing fire crackled, and she inhaled the fragrant wood smoke aroma with pleasure. She could almost believe it was an earlier era, another time when the buffalo ran free across the prairies, and she wished it was. Born more than a century too late, she’d always yearned for what she liked to call the olden days. Cait yearned to ride a wild paint pony across the open country, to chase the buffalo herds, and to never see another interstate highway ever again. She loathed skyscrapers, suburbs, and social networking. If she didn’t have to make a living, Cait had long vowed she’d become a hermit in some remote area where she could live free and do as she pleased. She answered to no one. Her parents were deceased, so were all the usual elders in her family circle. Caden, her brother and sole sibling, had never been close. Besides, they hadn’t seen each other in years and she doubted she had his latest forwarding address. He lived his life and she savored hers. Some people mourned a lack of family ties, but not Cait. She gloried in her solitude.

  Her photographs made enough money so she could support herself but nothing more. Her tiny studio apartment in a small town provided shelter and a place to crash between trips, but she lived for travel. Put her down against a Western landscape anywhere, and she basked in it, content. Cait adored the majesty of the Rocky Mountains, savored the desert hues of the great Southwest, and had a thing for Texas, but the plains country pleased her most of all. Maybe, she’d often speculated, she’d lived here in another life as someone else.

  As she sat cross-legged beside the fire, far from any other campers, Cait pondered her surroundings. Far enough from civilization that no streetlights penetrated the darkness and with no one within shouting distance, some women would be lonely, but she wasn’t. She became one with the night and nature, missing nothing but a man.

  One downside of her solitary life, always somewhere different, was the lack of a significant other in her life. Relationships were difficult enough without being separated by distance, and desire wasn’t enough to keep the fires lit long distance. Cait could always find a one-night lover, a rodeo cowboy, a lonely cop on the beat, or some guy in a bar, but she wished for someone permanent in her life. Thinking about men kindled heat between her legs and sent prickles around her nipples until they ached. An erotic shiver traveled down her spine as she wished for a partner to make the night complete.

  Cait undid the buttons on her chambray shirt and let her fingertips touch her erect nipples. The combination of the gentle caress and the cooler night air against her skin sent delicious ripples through her body and turned up her inner heat a notch. Her pussy tightened with urgent want, and she dropped her hand to stroke it through her jeans. She quivered with anticipation, and, never bashful about indulging in a bit of masturbation, she undid the zipper, then hesitated.

  Although she saw no one, Cait sensed invisible eyes watching. Unease prickled around the edges of her contentment and eroded it. She zipped her pants, despite the ongoing ache in her crotch and buttoned her shirt. She scanned the darkness but saw nothing out of the ordinary. A gentle breeze wafted the tall grasses, making the stems dance in the faint moonlight. Cait listened but caught no sounds, nothing close. In the distance a coyote yowled, but nothing else reached her.

  Anticipation rather than fear tensed her body, and she waited. Whatever lurked, it would reveal itself soon enough. She tossed a few more sticks onto the fire and reached into her canvas bag for a hairbrush. Cait freed her braided hair and brushed it, enjoying the sensation. It fed her carnal desires, and time passed, endless and eternal beneath the night sky.

  He emerged from the darkness with such stealth Cait almost thought he appeared by magic. The man stood tall, his broad shoulders and powerful build looming large against the flickering shadows of her fire. He stared at her, eyes shimmering with reflected light, head leaned forward. His thick, rich brown hair curled and hung long, thick, and somehow shaggy. A full beard complemented his wild, wooly hair well. He reminded her of something or someone, but she couldn’t quite place who or what.

  Cait didn’t need the simple breechclout he wore to identify him as Native American. She’d always loved a hairy man, and his bare chest boasted a thick mat of hair. Strange, she didn’t think many tribal men wore beards, but this man proved an exception, an awesome
and delicious one. Big men were her favorite type, and she adored it when they held her in their arms. Their bulk and size made her feel petite and even fragile in a way an average sized man didn’t, since she stood taller than most.

  I don’t know where he came from, she thought, but I’m glad he’s here. So far, he stood in place, about five feet beyond her fire and watched. His eyes mesmerized her, deep and dark, so soulful with emotion she wanted to weep almost as much as she ached to fuck. Her pussy heated up, and the ache intensified. If her nipples grew any harder, they might pop through the thin material of her blouse. She met his gaze and drowned in it. Without conscious thought, Cait found her feet and stood, every inch of her skin sensitive and all her senses engaged.

  As she waited, he came around the fire with slow tread but with graceful motions for someone so large. He walked up to her and stopped a foot away. Her breath caught, and she held it until her head whirled. When Cait inhaled, his natural scent rushed through her nose, all masculine and uber-sexy. He smelled of the wind, of the clean prairie grasses, and of something so very male she thought she might just come without being touched. He smelled wild, she thought, wild and almost dangerous.

  “Woman,” he said, and his voice rumbled like deep thunder. She heard music in it, too, a steady rhythm older than the world. “I want you.”

  Anywhere else, she would have flirted or said something flip. His powerful presence intoxicated her and rattled her until all she could say was, “I’m Cait. Who are you?”

  “Buffalo,” he said with a grin. His smile devastated any defenses she had left standing. “My name is Walking Buffalo, and I want you.”

  Cait took one step forward and touched him. Her hand rested against his massive chest, his flesh warm beneath her fingers. In the silence, louder than the faint crackle of the fire, she heard the beat of his heart. Want did not begin to describe the rising crescendo of desire she experienced. If he didn’t take her now, she thought she’d die of longing.

  Walking Buffalo seized her and pulled her into his embrace. He pressed tight against her and lowered his huge head. His mouth caught hers and held it, his lips caressing hers with a fiery heat, hot enough she burned. Walking Buffalo caught her bottom lip between both of his and nibbled. The sensation rocketed through Cait. He tasted her and almost devoured her with an intense greed, but Cait loved it. She answered his wanton need with her mouth and inserted her tongue between his lips. Cait explored, her tongue seeking and searching. She used hers to tickle his and to trace a slow line down it. He shuddered, and his tongue found its way into her mouth. They tasted and tempted, and then Walking Buffalo removed his mouth from hers. He planted a series of small, light kisses across her lips. At the same time, he lowered his hand from her hip to her ass. He fondled it and rubbed it with such slow, intense motions she thought she’d moan aloud.

  His other hand undid the buttons on her shirt, all the time still kissing her. Walking Buffalo deepened the kiss until Cait struggled to breathe, but the sensations were so sweet she didn’t protest or try to pull back. With unexpected agility, he fondled her breasts with one hand and held her in place with the other, continuing to kiss. Cait whimpered when he shifted position and brought his mouth down to latch onto her right nipple. He licked and sucked at it until she clung to him, her fingers clawing at his back with wild abandon.

  When he lowered her to the sleeping bag spread on the ground, Cait hardly noticed. But when Walking Buffalo removed the remainder of her clothing, she reacted by stripping away the breechclout he wore. His erect cock stood large, and when she touched it, she marveled. It could have been carved from stone. She wanted to suck his dick, take him into her mouth, but before she could make an attempt, he lowered his body over hers and stuck his cock into her slit.

  He wasn’t gentle, not at all, but Cait gloried in his rough approach. She needed release, not romance. Walking Buffalo packed her box full. His huge size filled it to capacity and fit so tight she thought she might break open. If so, though, she’d die in bliss. Cait lifted her ass to drive him deeper if possible, and their friction sent sweet, intense frissons through her body.

  As hard as he rode her, Cait gave back the same. Her nails raked over his back and left marks. With effort, she managed to lock her legs around his torso, and when he moaned, she grinned. Sensations consumed her, heat and pleasure combined into a potent mix as her needs sharpened into a feverish pitch. They worked toward release, and with each stroke, they came closer.

  The world narrowed to need, to intense desire and release. She fought for it, and when she felt his body start to shudder, Cait shut her eyes and let the dam of desire break over her body. They rocked as one, and then everything burst into flame and carnal release. She’d never known such wild pleasure. Her body trembled with delight, and she screamed out, a wordless cry of pure wonder when she came, so hard she went blind for a few moments. He bellowed too, their noise mingling and then stilled.

  His heavy bulk would be far too much for her, and he must’ve known. He landed beside her on the sleeping bag and cradled her against him. Cait snuggled, secure and feeling so tiny against him. His arms protected her from anything, and she basked in his body heat. As the campfire died to embers, he kept her warm, and as the night sky turned gray, she slept in his arms.

  Cait woke, thick-headed and confused. Although on occasion, she slept with a man she’d met hours before, the encounter with Walking Buffalo set a record. They’d exchanged no more than a handful of words before he’d locked his lips on hers, then taken her with abandon. Cait had long ago set a rule that she’d never actually sleep after recreational sex, and she’d never broken it, until now. The few times she had awakened in someone’s bed, their relationship had been established, if tenuous. When she stirred, she bumped against him although he didn’t make a sound.

  She rolled over and met his eyes, open and alert. “I thought you’d be asleep,” she mumbled. The morning air blasted cool against her bare skin.

  He shook his head. “No. I like watching you more than I need to sleep.”

  Dawn’s first light illuminated the eastern horizon, and she glimpsed it over his broad shoulder. Cait reached for her scattered garments. “I need coffee,” she said. “Do you want some?”

  “Sure.” He untangled from her and the sleeping bag. When he stood up, she realized he must be well over six feet tall. In the milky light before morning, he was damned impressive, even more than by firelight. As she pulled on her blouse and managed the buttons, he donned his breechclout. Without a word, he shambled a few feet away into the dim shadows. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of someone urinating. “Leave it to a man,” she muttered and smiled.

  A glorious sunrise shot the sky full of vivid colors, deep pinks and charcoal gray against a rich blue background. On impulse, she grabbed her camera and shot several pictures. Some of the rock formations in the distance framed the rising sun. Her campsite sat on a small rise overlooking the valley and grassland below. A herd of buffalo grazed there, placid and beautiful. Cait watched them for a few moments, then used her largest zoom lens to take a number of shots.

  That’s what he reminds me of—a glorious buffalo! Pleased she’d made the connection, Cait hummed as she filled a graniteware coffee pot with bottled water and coffee. After she placed it over the fire, she rooted through her supplies. Once the coffee brewed, she fried bacon in a skillet, and right on cue, Walking Buffalo returned. His face remained impassive but his eyes glimmered, and as he sat down beside the fire, he smiled. Although she’d tasted him, licked him, run her hands over every inch of his skin, and taken him inside her, Cait turned bashful.

  “Hi,” she said. “Coffee’s ready.”

  Without waiting for his response, she poured a cup and handed it to him. He acknowledged her action with a nod and put it to his lips before she realized she’d never asked how he might like it. “I have sugar but no cream,” she blurted out.

  “I drink it black.”

  So did she, a
nd she gulped the caffeine with the kind of desperation usually reserved for binge drinking. The hot coffee burned her tongue and seared its way down to her tummy. A dozen questions rushed through her mind. Who was Walking Buffalo? Where did he come from? Why did he show up at her remote campsite out of nowhere?

  After she served bacon and some toaster pastries from her bag, Cait’s nerves had settled enough she asked, “So where did you come from last night?”

  Walking Buffalo lifted his head and inclined it toward the rolling grasslands to the north and west. “Out there.” He gestured toward hundreds of acres, most included in the national grasslands, land protected by the federal government. “I live there.”

  He did? Confusion clouded Cait’s mind. She tried to puzzle it out. He couldn’t live within the boundaries of the preserve, so he must live on the perimeter. If he did, he must savor his solitude as much as she did. “Where at exactly?”

  A smile teased his mouth. “What if I say among the buffalo herd, in the space between earth and sky? Would you believe me?”

  Poetic as he sounded, she had to speak truth. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Sometimes I do,” he said. “But I have a small place, a house and a few acres on the edge of the grasslands. That’s where I live when I’m at home.”

  Cait wasn’t sure where the question popped up from, but she asked, “Do you keep buffalo? I know some people do.”

  “A few.Buffalo is my power animal.”

  “They’re one of my favorite animals. I wish they’d never become endangered. I like to imagine the herds as they once were, so huge and so free.”

  When he snorted through his nose, she thought he sounded like a buffalo himself. “Those days were amazing, almost beyond description,” he said. His voice carried a note of wonder, almost as if he’d experienced it himself. Strange way to talk about it, Cait thought. “This is one of the last places on earth where buffalo can run and be almost free. I can’t imagine life in a zoo or captivity. I would die.”