BBW Shifter Bundle (BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance) (4 page)

My mind was groggy with lust, both sated and unfulfilled. His words swam through it, but I was adrift on a current of bestial lust. Of primal satisfaction. There was no yesterday. There was no tomorrow. There was only now. “Too many words,” I said.

He cocked his head at the challenging tone of my voice. He pulled my legs up so my ankles rested on his shoulders. He took his prick in his hand, the head covered in glimmering pearly seed. He ran it up and down my slit, teasing me. The bastard pressed it against my clit, hard.

“Unnnh!” I cried out around Catharn’s cock. My head was now facing the side of the table, and he had his hand on the back of my head while he slowly fucked my mouth.

Catharn looked down at me, his slow languid thrusts purely for the pleasure of my wet mouth wrapped around his prick. There was no urgent need to come, he was just delighting in the sensation.

Dom pressed the head of his cock against my clit again, then dipped it low and pressed it between my folds. He sank into me like he was made for me. His hips pulled back in expert precision as he slammed back down into me. His ass muscles tightened and released with each thrust, sending a shockwave up through my soft body. He started off gently. Slowly. He was taking his time. He had something to prove. This was personal.

“She’s enjoying herself,” Catharn said with an eager grin as he held my head in place. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and put his balls against my lips.

I obediently began to lick them, sucking on one huge stone and barely getting it into my mouth. I felt a hand grab my breast and saw that Dom was groping me fervently.

His other hand dipped below us. I felt it gently trace the cleft of my ass cheeks then go deeper. His fingertip softly pressed against my backdoor, teasing my limits as his hard cock slid in and out of me millimeters away. “I think she likes this,” Dom said.

“Do you like what he’s doing, little one?” Catharn said as I licked his balls. “Are you ready for both of us?”

Dom’s finger pressed forward again, penetrating my asshole and plumbing my my darkness. His finger began fucking my asshole while his cock worked my pussy. He joined a second finger to the first and worked at loosening me up.

It felt amazing, having these two gorgeous Shifters give all their attention to me like this. Every orifice was filled with them, and I wanted more. I wanted to feel both of them inside me. “Please,” I pleaded, my need obvious.

Grunting, Catharn took his cock and balls away from me. “How sturdy is your table, Dom?” he said, stroking his cock.

“As sturdy as they come. We cannot break it,” Dom said, his long cock slamming into me. He bent down, folding me up like a piece of origami. My knees against my shoulders, he kissed me deeply. Then he picked me up, folded in half and still speared on his cock. I heard shuffling behind me and then I was lowered down.
 

Catharn was under me, his hands guiding me down onto his cock. He slathered a glob of spit up and down his rod, then pressed his head against my asshole. “Relax, little minx. Take your time, and take me inside you.”

I winced at the anticipated pain. He felt too big. He felt too wide. I screwed up my face in pain and gritted my teeth.

“Cynthia,” Dom spoke quietly, our faces an inch apart.

I opened my eyes, staring into his gorgeous golden orbs.

“Just breath. It all starts with the breath,” he said.

I grasped onto his words, clearing my mind and ignoring the pressure at my back door. I breathed in and out, slowly and deeply just like in yoga class. I felt the life giving air fill my lungs, then the sensation of exultation as I expelled the air. Then my body shifted downward slightly. I did it again and I slid down a little bit more onto Catharn’s cock. Before I knew it, I felt his body underneath mine. “I did it!”

“You were always able to,” Dom said, smiling down at me. He let my legs go, and they came down to rest around his hips. He leaned in and kissed me, pressing down onto me.
 

I felt Catharn breath under me as I was squished between these two alpha male Shifters. I realized that Dom hadn’t come yet. He’d been so focused on me. That wouldn’t do. I began gyrating my hips.

Both men hissed air between gritted teeth.

“You little whore,” Catharn said from beneath me, straining not to cum again. His hands came up from below and played with my breasts.

“We’re lucky to have such a lovely little whore,” Dom
 
said as he began to fuck me again, matching my gyrations with his thrusts. His face was focused on mine, the heat of our bodies filling the room. Beads of sweat cascaded down from his hair and fell off the tip of his nose, landing on my neck.

We were slick with sweat and sex, not a dry spot anywhere on our bodies. We became a well oiled sex machine, two pistons driving in and out of me, two men needing to relieve the screaming tension in their balls. I wrapped my arms around Dom’s neck and rode them both, slamming myself down onto both hard dicks as they thrust up into me.

Both men bit down onto opposite shoulders as we all came. My orgasm crashed over me like a typhoon as two hard cocks spasmed inside me. Two sets of balls flexed against each other, competing to fill me with as much seed as possible. I stared up at the ceiling, my whole body on fire and feeling alive for the first time in years.

We all lay there, breathing in unison, not wanting to move ever again.

The Pirate And The Alpha

by

Becca Fanning

Nothing got me into the mood like a good sea shanty. The fiddler in the corner of the dark room was swinging him arm as fast as he could, the drummer next to him hammering for all he was worth.

I leapt into the middle of the room, other dancers making way for me. My long skirts shook and swayed as I kicked this way and that. The Queen of England might want my head, but tonight I would drink and dance!

A lanky lad caught my attention. Dark hair cropped short, his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the tavern. That little act of defiance drew me to him, the need to make him mine.

No man ignores Lady Brass. I’d been the captain of the Salt Shake these past six years, commanding a crew of the roughest cut-throats ‘cross the seven seas. We’d plundered. We’d done murder. We’d done it all and we’d do it again. And I wasn’t going to have some little land bug ignore me.

I swayed in front of him, letting my hips do the talking. That’d get his prick nice and hard, ready for me to take him. The thought made me wet, my pussy needing a long hard ride, a good horse to break in. I glanced back and his eyes were only on me. That’s the look I knew, the one I was waiting for.

I took his hand in mine, dragging him back towards the private rooms. Ignoring the cheers from the common room, I pushed him through the door to my chamber. He fell back on the bed, looking up at me with soft eyes.

I crawled on top of him. “You ready, boy-o? You’re gonna get nice and stiff for me, give me a proper in and out,” I kissed him, his mouth completely still as my tongue plunged into it.

My hand went down to his crotch, feeling his member coming to life through his trousers. Maybe I’d let him swab my tongue with it. If I was feeling charitable, that is. I wasn’t known for it.

“I…” he said, his voice a scared croak.

Ahh, the poor lad was a virgin. He’d never had his prick wet before. “S’alright, lad. Just let nature lead your hand.”

“I…I don’t want to die,” he said. His face was pure terror. “Please, have mercy.”

“No,” I said, though I don’t know where the word came from. “Luck is a fickle mistress. Some have it good, some have it bad. Nothing personal.” Again, my voice, but the words were from somewhere else.

The man beneath me fell into water where the bed was. Disappearing through dark blue ripples, his face was frozen in shock. In moments he was gone, as if he’d never existed.

“Nothing personal.”

My eyes flew open, bright blazing sunlight slamming into them like a canon. The sound of lapping waves was joined by the sensation of water gently running over my feet. A light breeze carried salty spray onto my face. Where was I?

My whole body ached. The parts I could feel anyway. Gritty sand and salt were everywhere, in every opening. I tried to sit up, but I had no strength to. My whole body protested at the thought.

I looked down and saw a piece of my ship laying on my chest, a wooden cask with rope binding it to myself. Now I remembered. I remembered every damned thing!

The merchant ship we’d plundered, and the marine skiff that ran up on us unawares. The battle had been a horrible, bloody affair. Canon answered canon, their solid shells piercing our hull. Our chainshot had scored a direct hit on their main mast, toppling it into the sea.

Crew of both ships collided into each other in the mayhem of hand to hand combat as the sun set on the horizon. Flintlock pistols licked fire, spraying men with hot peppershot. Men stabbed with daggers, swung long clubs at heads. My first mate, Callus Chris, buried a hatchet in the head of the marine captain. All his fancy buttons and medals didn’t mean spit in the end.

I flexed my hands and feet, letting the feeling come back to them. Painful pins shot through my body, making me cry in agony.

Things looked doomed when a fire started on the marine ship. The Salty Shake had taken too many shells to the hull, and it reared up on one end, capsizing. I watched members of my crew get crushed by falling timbers. I watched one man get tangled in a line and pulled overboard. Like bait being taken by a shark.

The sailor code says the captain goes down with the ship. Shit on the sailor code. The pirate code says you do whatever it takes to live another day, because we’re all surely going to burn in Hades. Best to put that off as long as possible.

I laughed, my bottom lip splitting and blood pouring into my mouth. So this is the end of the terrible Lady Brass. Shipwrecked on a desert island. Would I die here on this beach? It would only take the tide coming in, maybe a foot of water at most.

Or maybe I was already dead. The thought stopped my laughter in my throat. Could this be Hell? It felt like hell, that’s for sure. But where was Ole Pokey Jack? No, I was still among the living. For now.

I gave another effort to sit up, and my body lifted off the sand. My head swung upwards, my vision going blurry. I breathed deeply, slowly. My gaze went out over the water. Peaceful, lazy waves, like sapphires snoring in their sleep.

I turned my neck, gritting my teeth through the pain. Up the beach to my left, I could see debris on the beach, possibly more wreckage. To my right the beach curved back around, disappearing behind a copse of trees. Behind me the beach went up about a hundred feet, then the island became thickly wooded.

I had no idea where this island could be. There were no islands near the merchant vessel when we plundered her. I didn’t know if I’d been adrift for hours or days, or in which direction the sea carried me. Right and proper buggered.

I untied the cask around my chest, letting it fall to the side. I unplugged the cork stopper on the top, praying it had held tight in the waves. I poured some of the water into my hand. It smelled clean. I dipped my tongue into it, not tasting any salt. I upended the cask, letting the hot water wash down my parched throat.

I put the cask down, re-sealing it. I wanted to drink more. I needed to drink more. But I didn’t know if there was fresh water on this island. You had to be realistic about these things.

I stood up slowly, walking down the beach towards the rest of the wreckage on the beach. There was rope, broken planks of wood and torn pieces of sail. I kicked it around, hoping to uncover a box of biscuits or some fruit. But there was only trash.

Sighing, I walked back to where my water cask was. Twenty feet away I froze. I’d been walking back next to my tracks. Near where I lay, I now saw another set of tracks. Someone had stood over me while I slept.

My hand went to my belt and closed around the reassuring iron of my flintlock pistol. Soaked through with water, the cartridge was probably useless. But no one else needed to know that. My dagger was still in it’s sheath on the other side of my hip. I didn’t like them, because to use them you had to be close enough for the other bastard to use his on you. Beggars can’t be choosers.

“You can either wait for trouble to find you, or you go out and get the drop on trouble,” Captain DeTouign had told me once. I’d learned so much from him, up until the British Royal Navy hung him in London Square. Retired by the rope, as we say.

I began to follow the stranger’s tracks down the beach. I had to find whomever else was on this island. Maybe it was a member of my crew. Maybe it was one of the British sailors. It could even be an island native. Any of them would have cause to slit my throat.

So why was I still alive? The question nagged at me, like a fish on a hook that wouldn’t let go. I just hope I lived long enough to figure out this riddle.

The tracks had a long stride, so I knew this person was tall. It was also a large foot, so I was dealing with a man. Not really a surprise, but even knowing that was empowering. Little by little I’d tear down this mystery.

Then the tracks stopped. Or, rather, they changed. One footprint was a man’s, then a stride away was something else. A paw print. What an odd thing. Was my mind soft, like a sodden sponge? I closed my eyes and shook my head. Opening them again, I looked down.

Still a paw print. They went further down the beach, around the bend. No point in chasing a dog down the beach. British ships sometimes kept them on board to catch rats. Little bastard had a better shot here than I did.

The sun overhead was a constant blaze, crisping my already burnt skin. I had to get shelter, and that meant heading into the interior. Even some palm fronds tied together would give me sanctuary from the devilish sun.