Worlds of BBW Erotic Romance - Box Set (18 page)

Lord Gearon Teague … my gallant, goofy, gorgeous Gearon … please tell me this isn’t the end of the world because I want so much more time with you …

But he had said: “No guarantees, prettiness.”

And he was nothing if not honest.

“How long do we have?” she asked him, instantly regretting the question, knowing she had broken the fragile illusion of the sensual dream they’d shared.

He looked up then, pulled back from her, gently smoothed her T-shirt down and back into place. His eyes were sad again. “A few hours, lovely one. There is not much to prepare, though. I previously desired to scan their defenses, plan a stealthy approach. But they know I am here, now, and they are highly alerted. They know exactly when and where I must attack. They will be quite ready; there is no way to sneak, now. Jessam cannot help me further, and I doubt she would be so inclined, this time—as I go to destroy their leader-mind, Grommalacht.”

“You make it sound like this is a suicide mission?”

He nodded grimly. “Most likely, yes. Looking more so now. But…”

He embraced her protectively now, his chin on her head, clutching her like a child to his broad chest, whispering to her: “There is…umm… a lifepod, yes?” he suggested. “You could go in, it would shoot you up out of the water and to a clear place on land, you’d be…”

“Safe?” she finished the thought for him. “But not really, right? What’s going to happen?”

He sighed. “If I fail, Grommalacht and the Enpathians will… have a dinner. Feeding on the psychic energy and minds and souls of all the humans on this Earth. Killing them. Then, burning all surface matter as nuclear fuel in order to transport Grommalacht towards the next world planned for feasting. And thus the feeding continues, world after world, dying, forever.”

“What is this Grommalacht, anyway?” Heather asked. “Is it the Enpathian King, or more like their God?”

“It is both to them, and more,” Gearon explained. “Thousands of years ago, one of their wisest and most powerful telepaths volunteered to become a psychic link between all Enpathians. This person evolved into a being of pure energy, leading the Enpathians in their quest for knowledge and spiritual enlightenment.”

“But it EATS people’s minds?” she said, shivering with disgust. “What kind of enlightenment is that?”

Gearon shrugged. “At some point , Grommalacht’s hunger for knowledge became… bottomless. Instead of guiding other races to peace, it lead the Enpathians to conquer other worlds, and then it would devour the people’s thoughts and souls. All of the Enpathians would share the pleasure-feelings of the feast. But, always, Grommalacht’s hunger quickly returned.”

“And it’s here on Earth, now?”

“Almost here, yes. I have to confront him, prettiness. Yet I cannot promise any hopeful outcome.”  

Heather shook her head and stared deeply into his violet eyes, drawing from his courage. “It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t leave even if I knew I’d be safe. I
NEED
to stay with you.”

He smiled. “It is selfish of me… but I badly want you here, as well.”

His big hands were on her shoulders, massaging them, seeming to rub all of her worries away.

She wanted to tell him. She had to, before the courage left her…

But, how do I…?

Impulsively, she bent forward, kissed the center of his chest, the soft fur there tickling her lips.

Very shy… feel like a little girl… small voice…

She pulled back, gazed up into his big violet eyes, and whispered:

“I think I, I… love you, my… my Lord.”

His mouth dropped open. He blinked, and drew in a sudden, sharp breath.

His hands clamped down hard on her shoulders. He leaned close until she could feel his breath warm on her face, could see herself reflected in his violet eyes.

“Please, Heather,” he whispered. “I need you badly, I want you, no other has ever… But you have NO idea what are leading towards, what you ask of me!”

She swallowed hard, choking back a sob. “I understand.”

“No, you do NOT! Ahh!” He growled, his face twisted as if in pain. “If I say what you want me to say, to speak that to a female, for my people… it means I am pledging Bond to you!  If only I could… You make me burn to do so! But that is an intense mating ritual. Violently sexual. Possible for females who are not Mekron-born, yes, but dangerous. And there is little time. And no Bond-Essence… That substance may be lost from the universe, now.”

She nodded, collecting herself. “Of course. I don’t need any special words, Gearon, or promises. I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry,” he told her, his fingertip lightly tracing her lips. “I DO burn for you. In whatever time we have, I want you to be my entire universe.  I want to possess you.”

He did long for her, care for her, she could believe that now… She realized she didn’t need any other validation or special words to be said. Right now, she just needed HIM.

She licked his fingertip playfully and smiled. “I know what I want, and need.” Grabbing his waist, she ground herself against him. With their height difference, she ended up rubbing her soft belly against his crotch…

My god, was he hard. And HUGE. His erection was straining against her belly through the denim of his jeans, and she got a better impression of the length…

Could it really be THAT big?

It feels as long as my forearm…

Under other circumstances, she might have been frightened. But now she felt only love and lust; she was up for it all, to try and take all he had to give her.

“Uhh…” he moaned, responding to the soft pressure of her body, “and what is it you want, lovely one?”

She smiled mischievously. “You said you had to stop before, in the cinema. Before things went too far. I
WANT you to go ‘too far’ now.”

He smiled hungrily, showing his perfect white teeth. “A Lord of Mekron is not always gentle in his lust, my prettiness.  I warn you, you may be jostled about somewhat. And I
WILL leave marks.”

“Come on, then. Mark me!” Laughing, she reached up and slapped his cheek hard—hard enough that her palm stung from striking his stubbled skin. She’d surprised herself with her boldness…

His eyes went wide in surprise—

And suddenly, he was laughing, and she was in his arms, carried effortlessly a short distance before--

He threw her back onto the giant, overstuffed couch at the side of the chamber, where she bounced for a second, helpless, getting a momentary glimpse of herself in the silvery “mirrored” ceiling.

There she was, goofy grin on her face, cheeks flushed, her dark brown hair frizzy and sticking out where it wasn’t pulled up by a scrunchie band into a crude ponytail. She wore her favorite pink T-shirt with a picture of Wonder Woman on it that she’d bought at Old Navy; she’d always loved the idea of being some kind of kick-ass superheroine, even if her reality fell far short.

But having an alien boyfriend isn’t a bad start, is it?

When he’d thrown her on her back, the shirt had ridden up, showing her pink, round belly, below which she wore a very unfashionable pair of faded black denim jeans.  They’d shrunk through years of washing, and were tight enough that someone who looked very closely might have seen the slight outline of her puffy coochie.

Cameltoe?,
she thought. She should have been mortified that she’d left home like that… But at the moment, filled with delight and desire, she just wanted to giggle.

Her outfit was completed a pink Hello Kitty watch on her wrist; on her feet were ankle socks with pink fluffy bunnies on them, over which she wore a pair of pink & white tennies.

I look like such a dork!
was all she could think of in that moment, glimpsing herself in the mirrored ceiling.

And she laughed out loud.

I don’t look like a bad girl…

But she knew that, today at least, she was going to be VERY bad.

Gearon was standing over her now, his teeth exposed in the growl of animal lust. He sprung at Heather, pouncing at her on the couch.

He held her down on the soft cushions of the couch, one of his big hands latching around her right wrist, while the other slid over her chest. The pressure of his touch on her tender nipple--even through the protection of her T-shirt material and the loose bra which still rested over the boob--caused her to jerk slightly, and moan. The hand moved, though, finding and clamping down on her left shoulder.

Now, he shifted his weight slightly on top of her. He was so heavy, pressing her so far down into the soft and yielding cushions of the couch, that it felt as if he would smother her.

And yet… Feeling his hard and heavy body above her, she didn’t squirm or struggle.

Another growl came from deep in his throat.

“Heather,” he rasped, “I… must… possess… mark you.”

The hand that had been on her shoulder went to her hair, brutally ripping out the stretchy band that held her little ponytail—taking several strands of her hair with it.

She whimpered and winced at the sudden pain.

But, at the same time, an electric thrill of anticipation ran through her, shooting down her spine and tingling in her clit and deep inside her pussy.

He wasn’t holding back anymore… He would give his lust fully to her.

He ran his hand through her hair, pulling and twisting it hard so that her scalp felt on fire.

His mouth with those gleaming, feral teeth now moved to her right ear. She felt his hot breath blowing inside her ear canal. His tongue stretched out, tickling the opening.

Surprised, she almost giggled at the sensation…

Maybe she
would
have laughed, had she had more air in her lungs. As it was, his weight was crushing on her chest.

“Mine,” he whispered. And then—

He bit her right earlobe, HARD.

A searing pressure and pain—

She could feel the teeth cutting in, his mouth sucking, as if he wanted to devour the delicate cartilage.

The pain pressing, searingly hot. Heather whimpered and sobbed breathlessly …

But she caught a glimpse of her girlish face in the mirrored ceiling, Gearon’s powerful body covering all of the rest of her…

And she realized she was smiling.

Mine,
he’d said.

Marked as HIS.

She’d never been turned on by pain before… But this act, now, his claiming of her flesh… It felt so
right.

After a few moments, his teeth loosened their grip--though her ear was still pulsing with pain, damp from his saliva.

She was certain that he HAD left a mark.

Gearon propped himself up on his arms now. With the pressure off of her chest, Heather gasped for air.

He almost seemed dazed, though, still in some animal trance. Rocking back and forth, he ground his pelvis against her. Given their height difference, and the fact that his face was level with hers, his crotch was currently level with her knees.

That brutal erection again! It felt like a child’s arm was rubbing against her leg.

He still had his jeans on, and she was mostly clothed…

As if reading her mind, he shook his head violently as if to clear it, his blue hair waving wildly about, and said: “Ahh… We’re not going to get anywhere that way, are we, prettiness? Why don’t we get more comfortable, yes?”

He slid off the couch and stood, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands went to the fly of his jeans, which he fluidly unbuttoned and unzipped. Then, he tried to pull the jeans down…

They got struck. His raging, oversized erection, straining against the denim, impeded his progress.

Still, what
was
exposed was delicious. She could now, finally, trace the trail of dark-blue curling man-hair down past his abs, and saw that there was a full, furry nest of it at his crotch.

Manscaping must have never caught on on planet Mekron
, she thought.

But it just seemed so perfect for him. His entire body was so perfect, soft hair, hard muscle—and ALL male.

All the while, he kept trying to tug the jeans further down.

She laughed. “You having a problem there, buddy?”

He shrugged. “Some moderate obstacle stands in the way, yes?”

He rotated his hips and did a little dance, trying desperately to tug the jeans down over his straining erection. Now, the root of the thick shaft came into view, growing out of that wild jungle of male fur.  The cylinder of flesh was as least as thick around as her wrist, with several prominent veins running down it.

“Mmphh!” he grunted. One final tug, and then…

It was free.

Jesus Christ.

She gasped—and he heard her, and smiled.

It WAS as long as her forearm, probably longer. Even given the scale of his seven-foot-tall body, it seemed…
outsized.

Circumcised (so they did do
that
on Mekron, apparently), the head was even broader than the shaft, dome-shaped and an angry red, darkening to a deep purple color around the outer ridge of it. The shaft was flawlessly straight and… so, so VERY long.