Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle (24 page)
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Authors: Champagne Jackson
“Oh, god, oh god!” I howled, feeling more like a she wolf than ever as every cell of my body seemed to burst into ecstatic fire.
I felt limp as my orgasm left me, as my body began to calm down and the spasms and earthquakes wracking my insides finally settled.
But we weren’t done—not by a long shot. Liberty dropped me down, down to his waist, my hips automatically wrapping around him. I was still unbelievably sensitive down there but oh-so wet, and his huge cock slid into me as if I had been greased with butter.
It was amazing—feeling his thick shaft pile deep into me, force its way into my body, my weight helping me to slide down onto his rod, while his knot worked its way deep into my flesh.
I threw my head back, shrieking as Liberty began to thrust into me, still supporting most of my weight as I clutched him with my arms and legs wrapped tight around him, whimpering and shuddering as his cock tore into me, tore into my flesh, pounding me and skewering me like a piece of meat.
The forest around us was silent but you’d never have known it, considering all the noise we were making.
“Oh, god, Liberty!” I squealed like a banshee, bouncing my hips on him, savoring the way his thick rod pushed deep into my tight, wet insides. “Harder, baby, harder!”
Liberty spread his stance, gritting his teeth and thrusting into me as he pulled me hard onto his cock, impaling me deep, my tight, wet insides gripping him as hard as they could but always slipping around before being impaled once more.
The pleasure was amazing. My pussy was so powerfully sensitive now after my orgasm and so each moment, each thrust, each impalement of my womb on his cock—it was pure ecstasy.
Harder and harder he pulled me onto him, until finally, I felt his cock start to twitch. I whimpered and then I felt it: his cock starting to spasm.
Another loud, wolf’s howl greeted me as my man came, as he filled my pussy with his hot seed. Spurt after spurt pumped into me, filled me up. I panted pathetically, moaning and groaning as he came in me, gripping my ass so hard, digging his nails into my soft flesh, that I was sure he had drawn blood. But damned if I cared. I just wanted this.
I wanted to feel Liberty’s cum sticking to my insides, hot and pleasant. I wanted to feel filled.
And god, I did.
Finally, he pulled out of me, his cock a sloppy mess. I sank to my knees once more, almost out of habit, taking him into my mouth and slurping up his cum. This got him hard again—my tongue, licking and working its way along his thick shack, tasting the chafed, flushed flesh.
Without a word, I bent over, bracing myself against a tree and gasped as Liberty impaled me once more, his cock going even deeper this time. I shuddered and squealed as he fucked me like a bitch, taking me harder and harder, my voice going hoarse from screaming as he pounded me, gripping my hair hard and pulling my head back as he rode me.
I had no idea how long he fucked me like that—I lost all sense of time. Finally, though, he began to cum, filling me once more with his seed. I shrieked once more in delight as I felt that hot, sticky cum inside of me and then, finally, he pulled out of me and we collapsed together.
We were silent for a long time. It was Liberty who finally spoke, his voice still husky and thick with lust and fatigue.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” I said with a little smile, pressing my lips to his.
“I waited, though. Hoping… Hoping that you would come to find me.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere now,” I said quietly, taking his hand—his big, thick, powerful hand—and laying it on my belly. “We’re not going anywhere at all. You’re stuck with us.”
“I can live with that.”
“You’d better,” I said, still with the little smile. “And what’s more… You’re going to have to teach me about being a werewolf.”
I looked up through the trees, into the night sky. The moon was not yet full but it would be in a few days, it seemed.
“I’ve only got a few days left till the my first full moon, after all…”
Table of Contents
Rogue
I grew up on a farm in the Middle of Nowhere, Nebraska. It was one of those picturesque, post-card type places, with a big sky that goes on forever and miles and miles of wheat fields, corn fields, soy fields… Any kind of field, really. That was my home. Fields, sky, and barns.
My name is Shaniyah. Shaniyah Jefferson. I’m eighteen years old and I’m just about to graduate from high school. I’ll be going to the University of Nebraska next year and I want to major in biology so I can become a veterinarian. See, I’ve always loved animals.
Part of that comes from growing up on a farm, I bet. My family moved to the farm from Detroit when I was a little kid. My momma and daddy, they hated the cry and the dirt of the city… They saved and saved and always dreamt of having enough to buy a little farm somewhere. Finally, they managed it and with the preacher man’s blessing, we moved out of the city to the countryside.
I’ve always been around animals: horses, cows, pigs, goats, chickens, dogs, cats… If you can think of it, we probably had it on the farm at one point. We even had pheasants and Cornish hens and other weird little birds for a while until my dad decided selling them to rich city folk didn’t make enough money.
My favorite animal on the farm, though, wasn’t a cow or a chicken or a horse or even a dog, really. It was a great big white wolf dog we took to calling Rogue. Can you believe that?
A wolf on a farm, living like a member of the family… No one was really sure where Rogue came from. I was the one who found him, when I was only nine. I was outside playing, running through the fields when I heard a growling amid the corn rows.
I remember turning and seeing a real wolf: huge and terrifying, spit dripping from its bared fangs, bearing down on me. I shrieked, as any nine-year old would and I started to run. I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me but I was so terrified and the corn was so thick, it wasn’t long before I went tumbling to the ground.
The wolf was on top of me in a second but before it could do anything, something even larger, a dark grey furry something crashed into it, ripping it off me. The two beasts wrestled on the ground for a minute before the wolf that attacked me darted off, disappearing into the fields.
It was Rogue who saved me. I was trembling and crying, sobbing in a ball on the ground, and it was big old Rogue who trotted up to me and nuzzled my face with his snout, licking my tears away with his big soft tongue. He nudged me until I stood and led me back to the house.
I explained to my father what had happened. My parents, my brothers and sisters, they all listened in amazement as I told them how Rogue had saved me, how he’d fought off the wolf and then led me home.
“Can we keep him, daddy? Please, please, please, please!” I remember begging.
“He’s basically a wild animal, Frank,” I remember my mom saying, glancing at my dad and then turning her gaze to Rogue’s face, which looked a little hurt at the suggestion that he was nothing more than an animal. He really did look like a wolf—a huge one at that, bigger than me, more like a small polar bear than a dog.
“But look how tame he is!” I cried out, sticking my hand under Rogue’s snout for him to lick me gently.
“There have been more wolf attacks lately,” my dad said, a thoughtful note in his voice. “It’d be great to have a dog around who could scare off the bastards.”
He sighed and reached out to tousle my light brown hair.
“All right, kiddo. You’ve got yourself a dog. A wolf, maybe.”
“Thank you, daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I squealed, hugging him and Rogue in turn.
And why did we name him Rogue? Because my dad wanted him to be our Rogue against wolf attacks. Somehow, Rogue understood his duty perfectly. He’d sleep in the house or laze around the farm most days, maybe curled up on my bed or in the living room and then at night, he’d prowl around the perimeter of the farm.
Occasionally, we’d hear howls and cries and Rogue would come into my room in the morning to lick me away, his face and ears covered in little scratches from his battles the night before.
“Oh, no!” I would cry out. “Poor Rogue!” And I’d shower his face with kisses while he wagged his tail and dangled his tongue out of his mouth, a big goofy grin on his face.
And so, Rogue was with us, all throughout my childhood and adolescence. It was great to have him around, waiting on the front porch for me when I got home school, tail wagging and excited to see me.
Even though I have two brothers and a sister, it was pretty clear that Rogue loved me best. He’d only beg for table scraps from me at dinner and I’d always save a little napkin full of food for him later in the evening.
Rogue also protected me all throughout that time. Starting when I was maybe twelve, I gained a lot of weight. I’m not as chubby now as I was then—now, I’m pleasantly curvy, with big boobs and a big butt and those child-bearing hips you hear so much about, but when I hit puberty, things definitely developed out of proportion to each other. I certainly did look pretty funky, with boobs way too big for my frame and lots of acne. Everyone goes through these phases, I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with!
Anyway, I got teased and bullied a lot at school. Not only for my curves but for my kinky, nappy hair. One day, after a particularly merciless bout of teasing from a girl named Marissa who had cornered me in the bathroom with her friends and forced me to text all the boys in our class with pictures of me in my underwear, I came home sobbing and threw my arms around Rogue.
Even though I knew he couldn’t understand me, I told him through my tears what had happened. He looked at me with his silent, sympathetic face as I told him the names of all the girls who had been mean to me, who had teased me so fiercely, so cruelly.
And with that, he darted out of my room. We didn’t see or hear anything from Rogue for two days but I did hear about him at school.
I overheard conversations between the girls who had teased me: all of them had experienced the same thing—dreams about a wolf, standing over their bed, growling at them, baring its teeth and drooling on them. They were all legitimately terrified and eventually, they noticed that any time they bullied me, the wolf would appear.
Before long, the bullying stopped. I never knew how Rogue did it: how he knew where the girls lived, how he got inside their homes without anyone knowing and managed to find the girls and convey his very specific message to them: Leave Shaniyah alone or I will return.
But the most important story I have to tell you about Rogue begins the night of my eighteenth birthday. It was near the end of my senior year and my friends and I were all planning to go off to college at the end of the summer.
My parents had decorated our barn really nicely for my party, with lights and candles, and they’d even gotten a caterer and a great local band. Most of the senior class was coming and, more exciting, Tom Simms, my then-crush, said he had a special birthday present for me.
“He’s going to fuck you!” my best friend Callie said with delight as I tried on yet another party dress in my room.
Rogue made a growling noise and rubbed his snout against his paws. He had been looking depressed all day, and spent most of his time hanging out on my bed, looking up at me with his big, sad eyes.
“Ugh, do you think that’s what he wants?” I asked with a giggle.
The dress I was wearing definitely showed off my curves—it didn’t make me look fat. Rather, it just made me look like a sizzling, smolder voluptuous lady of the night—exactly what I was going for!
“Rogue, what do you think of this dress?” I asked the wolf. He looked up and wagged his tail enthusiastically.
“It’s settled. Rogue likes it, so I’ll wear this one. Rogue, do you think Tom will like it?”
Rogue all but rolled his eyes and growled again. Callie burst into giggles.
“It’s so funny, how it seems like he understands you!”
“What do you mean? Rogue and I have a special connection—he totally understands me!”
At this, Rogue wagged his tail in delight.
“Oh, come on… You can’t really believe that. He’s just an animal. He doesn’t understand English or anything like that… That’s called projecting,” Callie said gently, reaching out to scratch Rogue behind the ears. He nipped at her hand and she drew it away suddenly.
“See?”
“I guess you’re right. You don’t understand me at all, do you, boy?” I said sadly to Rogue. “I wish I could explain to you that I’ll be going off to college in a few months too.”
Even though I was sure he couldn’t understand me, some part of me didn’t totally believe it. And it didn’t help that he seemed to deflate when I said those words, and whined softly before trotting out of the room.
“What a goofball,” I said with a sigh, taking one more glance at myself in the mirror