SCOTTISH ROMANCE: My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf (Scottish Werewolf Pregnancy Romance) (Historical Medieval Shape Shifter Paranormal Science Fiction Short Stories) (13 page)

Chapter Seven

She took a long breath in and held it.  As she exhaled slowly, she slipped one hand between their bodies and squeezed his throbbing groin.  He groaned and slipped his hands under her skirt to dig his nails into her backside.  She squirmed harder against him as he slid his bared teeth against her shoulder.

He released her bottom and fumbled slightly with the zipper on her skirt.  It finally gave way and he added it to the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor.  She sat on his lap in nothing but her white satin panties and he groaned again.

“Goddamn, Marie, if I had known…”

“Known what?  Done what?”

“That this was hiding under all of that baggy clothing in high school.  I would not have pushed you off so much,” he laughed at himself and his own stupidity.

“Oh… I did want you back then,” she admitted.

“I know, I’m sorry.  I might have been able to save you,” he said softly.

Marie leaned in and kissed him again, pulling him against her bare skin and letting the warmth of his body fan the flames of her desire.  He pushed her hips up with his hands and body and wriggled out of his jeans from underneath her.  As she settled back down on his lap, she felt the hardness of his need pressing up against the wetness of hers.

“No going back now, hmm?” she murmured.

He looked into her eyes hard, the hazel color swirling with brown and green and blue as she wrestled with her desire and her guilt.  Slate wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her in the air as he stood up.

“We’re not doing this on the couch like lust-crazed teenagers,” he muttered.

She twined her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bedroom.  Her lips sought his urgently, parting so that her tongue could tickle his lips. He laid her on the bed and let his eyes rove over her nearly naked body before he climbed on top of her.

His mouth betrayed his need for her.  He so badly wanted to take it slow and remind her everything that sex was supposed to be about, but his lips and tongue and teeth wanted to consume all of her simultaneously.  He kissed and nibbled his way down the valley of her full breasts, across her trim belly, and dipped teasingly under the waistband of her panties.  She squirmed and gasped at every touch, terrified of breaking the moment but desperately wishing he would take her completely.

He hooked his thumbs under her panties and slid them down her legs, slowly revealing her smooth mound and then her slippery wet folds.  He groaned deeply in his chest and started kissing the back of her knees.  She giggled and twitched, but her giggles dissolved into moans as his mouth moved upwards towards the center of her yearnings.

He exhaled softly, letting his warm breath caress her pussy and her thighs parted as far as she could get them.  He placed one soft kiss on the tight folds and she held her breath.  As his tongue parted her and tasted everything she had to offer, she groaned and dug her nails into the bed.

Slate’s need for her won out over his desire to take it slow, and he traced his tongue over every crease and fold and hidden secret.  The torment was almost more than she could bear after so long but when he finally grazed her aching clit, she nearly screamed.  He flicked and curled his tongue around her until she was panting and squirming.  Marie could feel years of ignored needs and neglected desires surging through her body, culminating at the tiny spot where his tongue met her body.  Within minutes, the rolling waves crested and she screamed into the dark bedroom as she bucked against the assault of his tongue.

As her shudders slowed, Slate yanked his boxers off and crawled up on top of her heated body, gleaming with a glow of pleasure.  His fingers slid easily around inside her dripping wetness and within moments he was sheathed and pressed up against her pussy.  Marie wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his ass as though spurring him to enter her.  He slid himself inside to the hilt and groaned as her heat enveloped and caressed him.

He paused, letting her body adjust to his size.  She writhed underneath him, silently willing him to thrust into her despite his width stretching her more than she had ever felt.  As her muscles clenched down on him, his hips took on a life of their own and he slowly pulled out only to drive himself back inside.

Marie gasped and squeezed her thighs around his waist.  Her hands wandered over his chest and her nails raked down his flexing stomach muscles.  Over and over he drove himself into her, her hips rising with his thrusts.  The waves that surged through her body earlier had returned and they threatened to wipe her out completely this time.

“Slate,” she hissed.  “Make me cum…”

He growled deep in his throat and thrust faster and harder, feeling his own release starting to tingle at the base of his cock.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned.

He grunted and shoved himself inside her pussy hard, feeling his climax overtake and his balls empty into her body.  She inhaled sharply and then whimpered as the waves swept the reason from her mind through her orgasm.  He collapsed on top of her, panting in her ear.

“Oh god,” he breathed.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him down against her.

“I forgot it could be like that.  What am I saying?  It’s never been like that.” Her words tickled his ear and stroked his heart.

She felt the sleepiness and exhaustion drift into her body and she let it flow until all thoughts of the bruises and the cuts and the fear had seeped out into nothingness.

Chapter Eight

Several months later, Marie rolled over and smiled down at Slate’s sleeping face.  Chris was a distant nightmare and Slate’s buddies had made sure that Chris understood it was over.  Apparently the duration of the hospital stay had not been too long for him, but it had been just long enough for him to get the picture.

Marie eased herself out of Slate’s bed and jumped into the shower.  She had to meet the moving van at the storage unit in order to get her new apartment ready for living.  The cool water soothed her skin and she ran her fingers lightly over the dark pink marks on her skin.  Apparently while she had been straddling Slate’s throbbing cock the night before, he had raked his nails down her stomach.  She grinned as the lines reminded her of the screaming orgasms he had given her.

She was still amazed that after all this time, the feelings she had had for Howard had blended so effortlessly into the relationship she had developed with Slate.  Despite the shaved scalp and leather clothing and multiple tattoos, he was actually still the same sweet soul she had known.  It certainly had taught her a lesson in judging books by their covers.

Even the people at work had commented on the change in her.  Susan, the receptionist at work, just told her the other day that she was walking taller and that she had a beautiful smile.  She had always been good at her job, but she had never imagined that a happy personal life could have even improved her work product.  And while she still enjoyed her solitary lunches in the park with her books, she was less and less opposed to the occasional lunch invite from her colleagues.

As she mused about her life, she felt a cool breeze over her backside.  She peeked over her shoulder and leered as a naked Slate joined her in the shower.

“Good morning sexy,” she purred.

“Good morning yourself.”

Slate sidled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest gently against her belly.

“You sure you don’t want to just move in here with me?” he offered for the millionth time.

 

“Yes baby, I’m sure.  I just need to be on my own for a little while.  You said you understood.”

“I do.  I do understand.  That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

She smiled and wriggled her ass against him.

He swatted her firmly, “Stop that or you’ll miss the moving van.”

She squirmed again and he pulled her backwards against his awakening cock.

“Marie, you drive me crazy,” he whispered in her ear.

She giggled and turned to kiss him deeply.  His hands roamed over her wet skin and she contemplated surrendering to him as she felt him harden further.  She slid one of her hands down her own stomach, gathering soap suds, and slid the lather over his cock.  He groaned against her neck and thrust himself forward through the closed fist of her fingers.  She slid her hand up and down his shaft firmly but slowly.  Every time he tried to thrust faster, she pulled back.  When he stopped pushing his hips against her hand, she closed in on him again.  Her other hand reached down to gently tickle and massage his balls as he braced himself against the wall.  Her fingers teased every sensitive ridge and vein, slowly drawing his desire up into need.  She had quickly learned everything that would get him hard and quaking and ready for release.  He had even gently guided her through receiving pleasure.

He leaned forward to sink his teeth into her neck.  “Dammit woman,” he groaned.

She grinned up at him and sped up her strokes but just when he thought he would lose control, she slowed back down and he groaned painfully.  She baited him, slow then fast then back to slow until his knees almost buckled and he was panting for relief.  He was so close that his balls ached and his cock throbbed at even just the touch of the shower spray.

With one final motion, a move she had perfected in the last few months, of stroking and twisting simultaneously, he grunted her name and sprayed his seed onto her stomach.  He took the soap from her and finished washing her down, making sure to linger in the each of the areas that would have her imagining his hands and mouth all day.  Her nipples stiffened as he pinched them and her clit ached when he rubbed it.  She felt her own slipperiness combining with the soap and was sorely tempted to postpone the move for another day.

Just when she was about to give in to the temptation, he stopped quote washing unquote and rinsed her skin with an evil grin.

“Just making sure you’ll be thinking of me…”

“You are evil,” she whispered with a grin.  “And I love it.”

She hopped out of the shower to dry off.  She threw her long blonde hair into a bobbing ponytail, and tossed on shorts and a tee shirt, and kissed him deeply as she headed out the door.

Marie met the moving van at the storage unit and sighed deeply as she flung open the garage style door.  All of her earthly belongings had been stored here since she moved out of the house and filed for divorce.  It really was not much in the material sense of the word, but it was all she had been interested in taking with her.  Her book collection was first and foremost, followed by a few family items and some basic furniture.  The moving men loaded the items and boxes quickly and they were on their way.

 

She had been temporarily staying with Slate but knew that she did not want to rush into anything, and was excited to be living on her own for a while.

After the moving van had emptied her belongings into the cute one bedroom apartment, she flopped down on the couch and surveyed her new home as it stood as a representative and a symbol of her new life.  It was in obvious disarray but it already felt more freeing and more like home than that old house had ever felt.

When she had ridden off with Slate that day a few months ago, before she even realized who he was, something in her had clicked.  She still did not know if it clicked on or off, but that was part of the fun of figuring it out.  She did not recognize it at the time, but there had been no returning to Chris after that.  Slate had not motivated her to leave her husband; he simply showed her that there were other options in life.  She still did not know if Slate was her forever guy, but he was certainly her wakeup call.

She was looking forward to cooking for Slate in her new apartment and having him spend the night, to waking up to those fluffy delicious pancakes of his and eating them naked in bed with him.  She laughed to herself at the thought of those prim and proper lawyers from work seeing her pull up on the motorcycle for work someday.  When she had mentioned Slate to Susan, the young receptionist had even given her a high five.

She grinned to herself, and sliced open the first box.  She was most looking forward to this moment, to putting that fabulous book collection of hers on display.

THE END

 

 

The Renegade’s Mail Order Bride

Sally’s hand was visibly shaking as she put her wine glass down. “You did what?!” Abigail, her best friend just kept on staring at the crisp white linen that covered the table. Sally took a huge gulp of red wine and this time slammed it back onto the table. She sighed and leaned forward, “I think you should start at the beginning.”

Abigail looked up at her, “Sally, you’re not my best friend, you’re the only friend that I have left. I have made a difficult choice and I’m going through with it.”

Their empty plates were removed by the waiter and Sally asked for another bottle of wine. Sally took Abigail’s hand, “Abby, you’re not an impulsive person, why are you jumping into this decision?”

“Sally, can you remember the Christmas party we had at the house three years ago?”

“Of course I can, they were over 200 people there. Why do you ask?”

“Because, apart from you, not a single person attending that party wants to know me anymore. I need a clean break and I need to get out of London or I’ll go insane.”

Sally refilled their glasses, “So, let me get this straight. Use sold yourself to a rich American and you’re going to marry him so that he can inherit his family’s fortune. Then you’re going to divorce him, come back to London and start your own business with the money that he gives you?”

A tear ran down Abigail’s cheek, “You make it sound so simple, but you know what I’ve been going through since the accident.”

Two years ago Abigail lost her family in a storm when their yacht capsized. She was the only survivor. They found the bodies of her older brother and mother, but her father and younger sister was taken by the sea.

Sally swirled her wine, “There must be another way, Abby. Have you tried…”

Abigail slammed her hand on the table, “I’ve tried everything, Sal! You of all people should know. I’m alone. I’m broke and I desperately need a fresh start.”

“I get that Abby, I really do, but this is extreme, even for you! Anyway, who is this man? How did you meet? What about your house, furniture and stuff?”

Abigail smiled, “You have always been so practical, Sal. I sold the house yesterday. I kept a few antiques that belonged to my grandfather and they are in storage. You may have my clothes, handbags and shoes. I also need you to keep my photo albums safe. There is also….”

“Wait just a damn minute, Abby.” Sally drained her glass and filled it again, “When are you leaving?”

Abigail’s eyes watered again, “Tomorrow morning. The wedding is in two weeks.”

“So, Abby, this meal is a ‘good bye’?”

“No Sal, it’s a ‘until I get back’ meal, OK?”

Both of them sat in silence drinking the last of the wine. They have known each other since they were six, and over the last 22 years became used to not speaking in words. Sal asked for the bill and paid using cash. “Can I stay with you in the hotel tonight?”

“I would love that,” Abigail smiled, “but first we need to get all my stuff to your house. An hour later they left Sally’s house and went to the hotel.

They were lying on the bed when Sally broke the silence, “You never told me about him, or how you met.”

Abigail sighed, “His name is Clayton Wright. The solicitor that handled my estate knows him. Apparently they met at a Texan university as students. He is just tuned 27, so he is a year younger than me. The lawyer brokered the deal and I’ll marry him so that he can inherit the farm and the money that his grandfather left him.”

Sally burst out laughing. Abigail frowned at her, “What is so funny?”

“What are you going to do on a farm in the middle of nowhere? Feed the chickens? Get up at four in the morning to bake bread?”

Abigail smiled, “I have not really worried about it. I know he has plenty horses, so I suppose I’ll ride a lot.”

“Why you Abigail? Why can’t he find a wife there?”

“I really don’t know,” Abigail replied, “He is a handsome man…”

Sally continued to laugh, “Can you imagine your fair skin in that hot Texan sun? You’ll look like a tomato in two days; and a prune in a week!”

They both laughed and Abigail made a mental note to get more sunscreen. They spoke late into the night. Retelling stories of both the good and the trying times. They both knew that they will miss each other, but neither had the heart to say it out loud. In the small hours of the morning they fell asleep next to each other.

The wakeup call came at six in the morning. Sally went for a shower while Abigail packed the last of her clothes. An hour later they left the hotel and drove to the airport. “We’re not going to cry,” said Sally, “this is not goodbye.”

“Damn you Sal.” said Abigail as tears ran down her cheeks. They returned the rental car and booked in her baggage.

They had an hour to kill before the flight and went to a small coffee shop to get some tea. “I think I’ll miss drinking tea.” Abigail said.

“I’m sure they have tea in America!” Sally smiled, “Not sure about Texas, but if you need some, just phone me and I’ll send it over.”

“I’ll phone you often, Sal, I promise.”

The boarding call interrupted their tea and Sal got up. Abigail tried to get her hand luggage ready when Sal pulled her to her feet and gave her a big hug, “I’ll miss you my friend…”

Abigail untangled herself from the embrace and mouthed the words, “I’ll miss you too” back. Tears were blurring her way as she left the familiar and embarked on a new journey.

 

She kept telling herself that everything will be OK. If only she could really convince herself…

The flight from Heathrow to Houston was uneventful but tiring. The plane landed just after noon local time. Abigail enjoyed a meal in the hotel room and went to bed early. Just after seven in the morning she took the hotel shuttle back to the airport to fly to Lubbock.

There were only two other passengers on the small plane and the flight was bumpy. Abigail noticed that the scene below became more arid and wild with every passing minute. Large green circles and a patchwork quilt delineated farms as far as the eye could see. Abigail just started falling asleep when the plane started its decent. The terminal building was a lot bigger than she imagined. It was too hot for her and she changed into a floral summer dress. She opened a printed version of an email that Clayton sent. She searched for the restaurant name and found it. A friendly airhostess pointed her in the right direction and she pushed her overladen trolley to the restaurant.

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