SCOTTISH ROMANCE: My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf (Scottish Werewolf Pregnancy Romance) (Historical Medieval Shape Shifter Paranormal Science Fiction Short Stories) (29 page)

“It’s my fault too.  I was just so tired of Nicholas’ bullshit the thought of oral turned me off completely.  I wanted to feel a man inside of me.”

“I know.  Well…now what?  Do you want to get rid of it?”

“No.  I don’t know.  I don’t know what to think.”

“Hey,” Kerrigan said strongly, looking her in the eye.  “Don’t be afraid.  You know I will help you do whatever you think is right.  I got you into this mess and I’ll help you get through it.”

“Thank you,” she said with a genuine smile.  “I just think…um…well how do I say this…”

“What?  Just say it.”

“I think I was robbed of a good ending last time.  You pulled out and I felt nothing even though apparently something happened.”

“So…you mean…”

“I want the ending I deserve,” she said with a smirk.  “I can’t get re-pregnant, right?”

“Well…sure,” he said with a clumsy smile.  “I’m kind of relieved, actually….”

“Oh why’s that?”

She looked down at his bulging shorts and put her hand on his erection.

“Because I was starting to get embarrassed at how turned I am to see you again.”

She laughed.  “You really think I’m beautiful?”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.  And if Nicholas doesn’t appreciate you and treat you like the classy lady I know you are…then fuck him.  He doesn’t deserve you.”

She eyed him in adoration and waited not but five seconds before they tore into each other with lust.  This time when they kissed they didn’t hesitate—they indulged in selfish desire, no excuses or apologies.  Nothing to resist.  They just wanted the embrace, the filth and the primal violence, they dangerous lust they both felt.

Kerrigan ripped her shirt open right away, barely closing the door behind him.  He mounted her against the wall and kissed her bulging breasts peering through the blue bra.  She rolled down his shorts and caressed his growing cock in her hands. 

He grabbed her and lifted her to his lap, holding her strong by just his bulging arms.  She held her legs firmly as he throttled her in the air, dry humping her and holding their skin to each other to feel the kinetic energy.

He threw her on the bed and waited for her to squeeze out of those tight pants.  Her chocolate legs so inviting, so succulent and teasing him.

He spread her legs quickly, grabbing his thick dick by the head and ready to pound her right this time—eager to prove himself after an early KO in the last round.

He inserted his cock deep, loving the wet caress of her pussy folds.

“Ohhh God I love it when you go deep…” she said, spreading her legs and grabbing his back.  She reached around grabbed his tight bubbly ass, pulling him in deeper. 

“Spread your legs.  Wider.”

“Yesss!” she groaned, doing as ordered and letting his deep sexy voice permeate her thoughts.

He felt her wetness envelope his cock, which only made him thrust faster, eager to feel her slippery clutch.  He wanted physical connection with her.  It wasn’t just the desire to save.  It was the desire to make love.  To make energy.  To make life.

He felt himself go in and out of her wetness, this time with greater strength and self-control.  He controlled his breathing and sensations, preventing himself from losing concentration.  He thought of each thrust like clockwork, like the mechanical movement of a watch arm.  He visualized remaining firm and hard, and tightened his pelvic muscles to withstand even greater pressure.

Even when she squeezed his cock harder he still resisting the pull.  He grinded his teeth just a bit, pushing away his over eagerness, and staying rock hard.

He pounded her pussy hard and smooth, building an intense rhythm of entry and release, creating kinetic power between both of their bodies.

They both moaned and grunted like animals, fucking hard and desperately, too enamored to wake from the trance.  He went in long and watched himself come out, covered in her creaminess and warmth. 

Just as he kept his rhythm going strong she started to come closer to the breaking point.  Minute after minute of feeling his long shaft fill her up starting taking its toll.  She squealed in delight and her pussy squirmed like mad, matching his thrusts with her own jolts, shifts and plunges. 

Then she started to pant and lose all control.  “Fuuuuck!” she screamed, clutching the blankets beneath her and gripping on for dear life.  “Keep going!”

She then started her mellifluous screaming; like high C notes in rapid succession, her orgasms sounded so beautiful.  Her excited chants penetrated his commitment and he began losing himself a second time.

Every time he tried to summon up the strength to resist her lovely voice tempted him, caressed him, daring him to break.

“Ohhhh I’m cumming!” she screamed out, grabbing him close and forcing him deep—so deep he could never break free.  This time she wanted her happy ending—the full spray of sperm he at first so gallantly attempted.

“Cum in me!” she ordered, grabbing his ass and fingering his anus, trying anything to get him to cum and cum deep.

He finally let go—and let himself squirt another fountain in her already soaking pussy, filling her up with his hot spunk.

“Ohhh Georgina!” he gasped, cumming so hard he slammed his fists into the bed right beside her head, sending strong vibrations into the bed. 

She rocked up against his crotch, making her she got every last drop of impregnating baby making juice he had in him.

“Ohhh God!” he panted, trying to catch his breath, still balls deep inside his African wildcat of a woman.  “Ohh…well…if you weren’t pregnant before…”

“Sure as fuck am now,” she said with a wicked laugh.

“You were so good,” he sighed, rubbing his face against hers and taking in her natural, sweating scent.

“What the fuck did you just do to me, Kerrigan?  Give me a baby, hmm?”

“I know.  We’re crazy, right?”

“Hey maybe Nicholas will be too drunk to notice that his baby’s much better looking than he is.”

She cackled.  “That does sound like him.”

“But seriously…what are we going to do now?”

She looked at him in a moment of fearful honesty.

“Hey, what did I tell you?  Never be afraid.  I will be there for you.  To help you through whatever you want to do.”

She smiled wide and started to tear up.  “Oh Kerrigan.  Of course I want this baby.  Why do you think I stayed with Nick so long?  I have always wanted a baby.  But…to worry day in and day out about a father who has so much hatred inside of him…I can’t say that my decision was completely rational or unselfish.”

Kerrigan smiled in understanding.

“But you…well…never mind.”

“No, tell me.  What?”

“With you…in your arms, I feel strength.  Kerrigan.  Your name, your voice, your tender touch gives me strength.  In a perfect world I would love to have a baby with you.”

Kerrigan looked down and contemplated the thought.

“But I know it’s not right of me to ask you to do that.  We barely know each other.  We accidentally brought a child into the world.  I want to give you your freedom.  I’m just so happy that you helped me through this dark chapter in my life.”

“Are you leaving him?”

“Yeah.  I think it’s time.”

“It is.  And it hurts me to say that as his friend.  But it is.  But…”

“What?”

“All the same, Georgina.  I would be honored to have this baby with you.”

“What?” she said in surprise.  “You don’t mean that…”

“I do.  To be completely honest, I’ve never really thought about it before.  I never thought I would be the type to raise a child.  To be a family man.  Maybe it’s best that it happened unexpectedly.  Because that’s when I thrust into survival mode.  That’s how I win my fights.  And yes, the idea of having a baby with you…your beauty and soul.  It is what I want.  I’ve been wandering through life aimlessly for a long time.  I even remember my sensei telling me once, to find my passion wherever it may lie in wait.  You are my passion.  And now, unpredictably, but truly…you are what I want.”

Georgina wept and kissed him.

They embraced and laughed, giddy with excitement over their new test relationship—however, unorthodox, still very passionate.

Kerrigan never bothered kicking Nicholas’ ass, though he was sure he could.  The military are trained to kill but not to fight.  He knew he could take him down quickly.  But he really had nothing to prove.  Nicholas admitted what he was, admitted that his marriage had failed, and basically admitted that he had no fight left in him.

All he wanted was the delusion that he still was a damn good fighter.  And Kerrigan let him have that, opting to not bother telling him face to face what happened.

He knew what happened.  Maybe he didn’t suspect it was Kerrigan or maybe he did.  But Nicholas knew he drove Georgina away and that a better man would come to save her.  He never bothered looking for her or asking Kerrigan if his suspicious were true.  Because it was just over and there was no sense crying about it.  

Sometimes the best offense was no offense.  Sometimes using an opponent’s anger against him is the best way to win.  His master was wise indeed.  But now it was time a new chapter in life for Kerrigan and Georgina—a life away from fighting.  A life of only love.

THE END

The Warrior’s Dark Desire

Bodies glistened as sweat dripped from the hard columns they called legs, their arms flexed as thick as boulders as they hugged each other, their genitals this close to touching but with layers of muscle blocking the way, leaving only anticipation on the enamored face of Viola Johnson.  She was always a student, always an onlooker, but never ready to join the Genesis OK Club, with her two favorite trainers.

And yes the kink of two hot guys groping each other all in the name of mixed martial arts wasn’t lost on her.  She kept those fantasies to herself because she was supposed to be strong, confident silent type—the black woman who could kick ass and roll heads when it came time for battle.  But she couldn’t let anyone know her secret; buried deep beneath her iron façade, her cynical stare and her dejected eyes, she was still a lady.  A twenty-three year old young woman who had higher aspirations than anyone could imagine—if only they’d let her them without their mocking.  

And yes, she always had shameful thoughts about her teachers.

Othlo was the experienced “Soke”, a hard faced white man in his late thirties who was tall, daunting and had eyes of fury.  His voice was deep and his shoulders broad.  He tore a hole through a person’s soul with those damning green irises, right before he took them down in a shuck to triangle submission hold.  His hair was full and black and his stubble always thick. 

Kerrigan was his student, but now in his fifth year and at 29 a younger man in his prime.  He had evolved into his new role as teacher and took fifty percent ownership of the club, at Othlo’s own request.  He was the opposite of Othlo, because he was the gregarious type. Blond but sporting a buzz cut.  His muscles were always well toned and sculpted, superior even to Othlo, as he was able to master the leg locks and the spry body movements due to his youth and versatility. 

Othlo was gaining the upper hand; he had reversed Kerrigan’s waist lock and grabbed him with a surprise turn of the rest, flipping him to the ground.

Kerrigan laughed.  “Always the master, Sensei.  It’s still an honor to lose to you.”

“There’s no honor in losing,” Othlo said, never one to waste a laugh.  But at least this time he had a half smile, when shaking hands with his favorite student.  “When very few winners are gracious.”

“Viola,” Kerrigan said, waving at Viola who was sitting down, on time as always but still just “observing” even two months after her first appearance.  They had finally poked a name out of those fierce-looking lips.  But hardly any explanation.

“When are you going to overcome your fears and take your first lesson?  Two months and counting.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said firmly. 

“Then why?”

“Because I’m not ready,” she replied, still looking strong-willed and with a fixed frown.  “It doesn’t make me afraid,

“Fine, fine.  We’re getting so politically correct these days you can’t even say what’s right in front of your face.” 

Kerrigan laughed and wagged his head in a jocular manner.  He never warmed up to Viola, whom he thought was creepy and cowardly, even though he couldn’t come out and say it to a potential customer.  “But we both know what’s what, don’t we?”

“I’m just minding my own business,” she said in a sarcastic tone of voice, reminding Kerrigan that yes, she was a strong black woman and everything whitey said was just racist bullshit.  Or at least that’s how Kerrigan took it, and Viola wasn’t about to surrender any power.  She intimidated white men and she liked the feeling.

“Othlo,” Kerrigan said to his teacher, losing interest in winning Viola’s favor.  “So I’ll be back next week.  You’ll carry on without me?”