Bound by the Alien (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Aislin's Alien Adventures Book 2) (4 page)

After a good supper and a good nap, I find myself alone in my chambers. It’s a strange feeling, being alone. It feels like a lifetime ago that I was living by myself on Earth. It feels like a lifetime ago that I had an ordinary job and an ordinary life and an ordinary home.

And now I’m traveling the universe with Harry.

Sweet, wonderful, sexy, powerful Harry.

I wonder what’s going to happen when we find the Tomb of Ealo and open it with the Key of Bleoi. What will we find inside the tomb? Will the treasure be as great as Harry hopes it will be? He hasn't even told me what, exactly, we're searching for.

He hasn't told me what was worth sacrificing all of his time for.

Before I can think anymore about it, my bedroom door slides open and Harry comes inside. He leans against the doorframe and shoots me a cocky grin.

"How's Mira?" I ask, not really wanting to know the answer. I don't know what Harry has decided to do with her. I don't even know where he's holding her. I guess that's partly for my own protection. If I feel tempted to go have a little chat with her, she might try to escape. Unfortunately, she knows the ship better than I do. She's spent more time on it.

"Mira is...secure," he tells me. "Are you worried?"

"No," I shake my head. "I trust you."

"Good," Harry comes into the room and places something in my hand. Waves of warmth shoot through my palm and up my arm. The geolu.

"What's this?" I ask, wondering why he's giving it to me.

"A gift," he tells me. "I think you've earned it."

"After all my work on the island?" I ask, wondering what he's referring to.

"Aislin, trust is a gift that is not quickly given, even by you. You are important to me. Your safety is important to me." He pauses, running his finger down my cheek and stopping at my chin. He tilts it upward so I'm staring into his blazing yellow eyes. "Your happiness is important to me."

Then his mouth pushes against mine in a fiery kiss and he lifts me up. Though I'm curvy and a bit heavy, he makes me feel weightless. One thing I've never felt with Harry is less than perfect for not being a size 0. The only thing I've ever felt is passion.

He carries me to the bed and lays me down before pushing up my dress.

My pussy is shaved, bare, and wet.

It's ready for him in every way.

He takes the geolu from my hand and slowly runs it along my slit, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.

My breathing speeds up, and his voice holds a smile.

"Oh, Pet," he pushes the geolu inside of me, bringing me to the edge of orgasm with its touch. "We're just getting started."
HarH

Want to find out what happens next? Pick up book 3 of Aislin's Alien Adventures!

Submitting to the Alien (A BBW Paranormal Romance) (Aislin's Alien Adventures Book 3)

Sophie Stern lives in the Midwest, where she loves dreaming up the weirdest sexual situations she can. She resides with her husband of 10 years who is a constant source of encouragement - and inspiration.

If you enjoyed this story, please make sure to leave a review or connect with Sophie on
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Need more romance in your life? Check out this sample from
Curves and the Billionaire,
available now on Amazon.

The lobby of Lormoor Industries is every bit as intimidating as the outside of the building, but I try not to notice. I nod to the security guard standing by the door and march to the front desk, holding my head high.

"I'm here to see Mr. Thompson," I tell the receptionist. "I have an appointment at 2:30."

The receptionist smiles and nods, clicking a few things on her computer before looking back up to me.

"Welcome to Lormoor Industries, Miss Blake," she says cheerfully. I wonder how old she is. Surely not more than 22 or 23. I wonder if she actually has a degree or if she landed the job for her insanely tiny figure."

"Thank you," I say politely, waiting to hear where I'm supposed to go. "Shall I take a seat?"

The lobby is large, but almost completely empty, save for a small row of large, comfortable-looking chairs. I turn my body expectantly, waiting for her response, but the girl shakes her head. Her red curls bounce happily as she points toward the elevator.

"You can go upstairs. Mr. Thompson will see you now. Twelfth floor."

"Thanks," I turn and make my way to the double doors. Once inside, I push the "12" button. The doors close almost immediately, then I'm on my way. I try not to fidget as the elevator moves toward my destination.

Gripping my folder, I wonder whether Nathan Thompson is going to be a huge jerk. As the owner of a small, local catering business, I’m used to big shots who want their party to have food provided by a locally-owned company. It makes them look good. It makes them look less selfish. That doesn’t mean these guys aren’t arrogant pricks who only care about the final purpose of their events: money.

When I step off the elevator and into the huge office, I’m pretty sure my initial suspicions were correct. This guy is going to be just like all the rest. The first thing he’s going to do is ask if one of my assistants can be at the event as the face of my company.

Though Positively Sweet Catering has been around for five years and has catered hundreds of local events, many professionals don’t like the fact that I’m a healthy, curvy girl. At size 16, I feel comfortable in my own skin. Other people who are used to being around supermodels who never eat are much less happy with this. While it hurts to have people comment on my size, I’m used to it. I brace myself for the comments before I even spot Nathan, standing at the bookshelf.

“Mr. Tompson,” I announce my arrival as I step off the elevator and into his personal office space. He turns quickly and smiles widely. To my surprise, it appears to be genuine.

“Miss Blake,” he walks forward, hand outstretched. I take it and offer up a firm, determined handshake. I might not be what he expected, but I’m going to make sure that his party is one to remember. “Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”

I follow him toward his desk and slide into one of the oversized chairs. I find myself sinking into the comfortable seat, reminding myself not to fall asleep in this lush upholstery. I’m here to discuss business and only business.

But when Nathan Thompson slides into his own seat, I actually have the chance to take in this billionaire picture of perfection. He’s in his mid-30s. I know this from scouring his Wiki page last night. He’s also the head of this company, which was started by his late uncle. Now, I stare into his piercing green eyes, wondering how this guy is not married off by now.

“Word on the street is that you’re in need of a caterer,” I start off with a friendly smile, trying to gulp down my quickly rising sexual excitement. I’m sure this guy has had his share of lovers, but I would ride him so much better than any of those skinny bimbos ever could. Besides, I’ve got the full package: brains
and
boobs.

He grins and nods.

“Yes. I’m organizing a party for my uncle’s birthday.”

I cock an eyebrow. His uncle has been dead for four years. At least, the last time I checked.

Nathan seems to catch my confusion and he quickly explains.

“I always threw a party for my uncle when he was alive. Even though I know it’s sort of unconventional, I throw a small celebration each year on his birthday. It’s my way of honoring his memory with his closest friends.”

I nod.

“Of course, Mr. Thompson. How many attendees are you expecting at your celebration?”

“A hundred and fifty, possibly two hundred. I’ll have a more accurate count once the party is closer.”

I try to avoid raising my eyebrows in surprise at the number. Two hundred people sounds like a lot more than close friends, but who am I to judge? My only job is to make sure that this party has all the food and desserts anyone could possibly need.

“Absolutely,” I tell him with a polite smile. “I can accommodate your needs without a problem.”

Now it’s his turn to smirk at me, obviously catching my not-intended double entendre.

“I mean-“ I start, trying to save myself, but it’s no use. He starts laughing out loud and I quickly follow suit.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, catching my breath. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I just meant that I won’t have a problem getting enough food.”

“I know, but it’s not every day I meet women who aren’t afraid to joke around with me. It’s pleasant.”

I blush, but try not to. His words warm my heart in ways he could never imagine. I made him laugh and he’s a billionaire who just told me that
I’m not like all the other girls.
He has no idea how amazing it is to hear those words.

Though I’m not terribly self-conscious about my size
or
my dating history, it doesn’t mean I’m used to people judging me before they get to know me. Once people find out that I’m a professional baker and chef, the knowing glances are enough to make me want to tear my hair out. I’m not fat because of my job! Furthermore, I don’t think it’s particularly fair that no one looks twice at a skinny person who happens to work in the food industry, but as soon as a chef happens to be overweight, it’s the end of the world.

End of soapbox.

“Let’s talk about your menu ideas,” I say, trying to shift the discussion back to business. The event is, after all, only a few weeks away. If Nathan wants everything to be perfect – and I know that he does – then we need to get to work as quickly as possible.

He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and almost whispering, “Any chance you’ll be on the menu?”

If I was wearing panties, they’d be soaked right now.

Read the rest at Amazon.com:
Curves and the Billionaire (BBW Billionaire Romance)

Thank you so much for reading Bound by the Alien! As a thank you, check out this chapter of My Darling Stepbrother, available now on Amazon.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Red Thundercock!”

The crowd goes wild as the announcer screams the name of the hottest dancer at the club. He’s the entire reason Sasha managed to drag me out here tonight. She yanked up the picture of his abs the club has showcased on their website, along with some other, uh, not-so-suitable pictures.

I was wet before the picture finished loading and then we were out the door.

Now, surrounded by throngs of screaming women, I’m glad we got here early enough to land spots in the front row. I almost feel sorry for the women at the back of the room who can't see what I'm seeing. I'm almost close enough to touch.

Almost.

Red comes out, surrounded by smoke and lights, dressed like a super-sexy soldier. He rips his top and pants off to the beat of the music, revealing his thick, girthy cock. The only thing separating me from his dick is a thin layer of satin.

Well, that and the glare from the security guard standing just to my left.

I’m sure he’s used to girls trying to climb on stage. His eyes warn me silently that he’s watching me, just waiting for an excuse to kick me out of the club. I don’t care. My line of vision has narrowed. The only thing I see is Red and his bouncing, hard cock.

Sasha grips my arm as she licks her lips. She’s watching it, too, money firmly gripped in her hand.

The dance becomes more elaborate and soon Red is wearing nothing but the suit he was born in.

Once his full cock comes into view, the crowd gets even crazier.

"Horny bitches," I hear Sasha mutter under her breath.

The screams get even louder as women start pushing and trying to reach the stage. Security steps forward to push them back, trying to keep me from getting shoved into the stage, but it’s too late. Pain ripples through my body as I’m shoved against the hard metal of the platform. I scream out, trying to cry for help, but it’s too late. The lights come on and the music turns off, but not before I feel two large, heavy arms pulling me from the crowd.

Then everything goes black.

*

When I wake up, I’m on a couch. I moan as I try to sit up. Pain radiates through my ribs and hips, reminding me of the club.

“What happened?” I ask as I blink my eyes. “Sasha?”

“Sasha’s fine,” a male voice says. I turn toward it and see Red, the dancer, standing in front of me in a pair of sweatpants and a smile. “She’s getting acquainted with, uh, one of the other dancers.”

I roll my eyes. Of course she is.

“Where am I?” I ask. I’m in a small, dark room. Aside from the couch I’m on, there’s a little dressing table with lights on it. A pile of costumes sits in a box next to it. “Your dressing room?”

He nods. Wow. Red must be pretty impressive. I thought most dancers had to share a room.

“How are you feeling? The crowd got pretty wild there for a bit.”

“Everything kind of hurts,” I admit, touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thanks for saving me.”

Red’s eyes wander across my body and I feel myself flush with embarrassment, and something more. Heat rises in me as I see the way he’s eyeing me. I don’t blame him. I dressed to impress tonight.

My strapless black dress almost doesn’t keep my D-cup breasts inside it. In fact, as I glance down now, I notice that my nipples are barely contained in the thin fabric. The bottom of my dress has ridden up, revealing my black lace thong.

“It was a pleasure to save you,” Red says slowly, moving toward me. I say nothing as he sits down beside me on the couch and runs his hand gently down my side. I feel myself growing wet as his hand reaches my thigh. Without a word, he shifts his fingers to the front of my thong and I let out a gasp as he slides one inside of me.

“You’re wet, Sweetie,” he says. I realize that he doesn’t know my name, but it doesn’t matter.

“I am,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You know what the cure for that is, don’t you?” I feel his breath, hot and warm, against my ear, against my neck as his lips press against it. I shake my head slowly, trying not to moan as he slides another finger inside my pussy, stretching me, stroking me from the inside out.

“I do,” he says, moving thumb so it’s pressed against my clit. He begins to stroke me softly, putting just enough pressure on me to feel like I’m going to explode, like I’m going to die from the sheer pleasure of it.

“What’s the cure?” I ask finally, closing my eyes, feeling myself about to climax in the arms of this perfect stranger.

His lips push against mine in a passionate surprise. I gasp as his tongue begins to probe my mouth, exploring, feeling every inch of me.

Then he pulls away, stands up, and yanks his pants down, so I get to see his cock up close.

Red Thundercock indeed.

He produces a condom and glides it over his length. I’m surprised that it fits, but somehow, it does. Red pulls down my thong painfully slowly, tossing it aside. Then, positioning himself above me, he leans down into my ear and whispers, “Being fucked by a god.”

He thrusts inside me, pushing me over the edge. I scream through my orgasm.

I’ve never been so filled.

Find out what happens next! Read more here:
My Darling Stepbrother (Taboo Forbidden Erotic Romance)