Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle (17 page)

Suddenly, he grunted and I felt it: his werecock beginning to throb even more strongly.

“Here you go, little lady,” murmured Gaston. “Something that Chief hasn’t been able to give you yet…”

And with that, his cock flooded my pussy, filling me with hot werecum, his sticky seed spurting into my womb just as it had spurted down my throat. I moaned as my hungry pussy accepted his delicious, sticky gift and I pressed my hips back into him, taking it all, savoring the way his knotted cock pumped me as he came.

Finally, his cock grew soft within me and he slid it out. I all but collapsed to my knees, cum leaking out of my pussy and I sighed, quite delighted with how things had turned out.

“That was… Amazing,” I said, looking up at Gaston with shining eyes.

“Yeah, well…” he murmured, already in the process of putting his leggings back on. “I though you should, you know, enjoy yourself before the Chief gets ahold of you. Because it won’t be quite that nice.”

“Don’t let him take me,” I blurted out. “I don’t want to go with him. I want to stay with you.”

“But I’m going back to the Tribe myself.”

“Then let’s run away together. The two of us.”

He scowled. “It’s not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?” I cried, throwing my arms around his waist and pressing my face into his strong chest. “You could take me away from here. We could go live together in a village somewhere.”

Gaston pointed a single finger at the tattoo on his face. “And how am I to explain this? Everyone for miles around knows what it means.”

“So? We’ll wander till we find a place where no one knows what it means. You can have me forever. I’ll be all yours. I don’t want to go to the Chief. I want to stay with you, forever.”

And to seal the deal, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. My kiss started off innocent, more or less, but he caught me around the waist and pulled me in for a tight, close, hot kiss, the kind that seared the soul as it burned its way over my hot lips. His tongue invaded my mouth, swirling over my own tongue as we danced and dueled. When we broke apart, I was panting and even Gaston, the big strong bear man, was breathing heavily.

“You make a compelling argument.” He looked around the forest and finally, jerked his head off to the right.

“We’ll head this way. We’ll be moving away from the Tribe. They’ll send scouts out to find us but hopefully, we can elude them long enough to find a village beyond their reach.”

My face broke into a smile, the only real, genuine smile I had experienced since the day the raiders came.

“Really? Do you mean it?”

“Aye, I do, lass,” Gaston said, a confident grin on his face. “As much as I’ve ever meant anything.”

~

We set off that afternoon. That night, we made camp. Gaston laid out a bed for me of blankets and pillows, which I realized he had brought along especially for me.

“Those of the Tribe prefer to sleep as bears, since we’ll be more attuned to the forest and what goes on around us,” he explained. “But you don’t have that luxury, so I figured you ought to have a bed of your own.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. I eased off my tunic, not even bothering to hide my nakedness from Gaston. His hungry eyes raked over me.

“Would you like me again?” I asked, smiling as sweetly as possible. “I’m all yours for the taking. Do whatever you want to me. Whatever your imagination desires.”

“I have a pretty filthy imagination, darling,” Gaston muttered as he approached me. I lay on the bedding and spread my legs, running a finger over my soft, dusky, pink hole, still sore and chafed from where he had fucked me earlier.

“This hurts because some big brute came and stretched me out and pounded me really, really hard earlier today,” I whined. “I think I need a kiss down there.”

“Your wish. My command, darling.” With that, he knelt between my legs and went to work, drawing his tongue over my slit, drawing moans from my lips in turn. I groaned in delight as he licked me, his hot, moist tongue washing over my sore pussy. This was exactly what the doctor ordered, I decided, as I melted into his tongue and he, meanwhile, savored my flesh. He savored my dusky, pink, tender lips and my dark skin and the soft valley between my thighs and my pussy. He ran a finger over my tight, puckered asshole and after wetting it with his own tongue, he penetrated me there. I gasped and bucked my hips when I felt him slide a finger up there. I’d never really had anything there before. A few times, I had experimented while playing with myself in my family’s barn.

I had been lying in the hay, rubbing my pussy when I decided to slide a finger inside my asshole. I had fingered my ass while I worked my clit and I came to a very satisfying orgasm that way, the muscles in my ass gripping my finger tight as I came. But I never really did that again—I was somehow embarrassed for having done it and having enjoyed it.

But here, here and now, was Gaston licking my pussy and fingering my ass, working one of his big, strong digits deep into my ass, pressing it in far up to his knuckle. It wiggled around inside of me, eliciting even more gasps from my lips as it invaded me. I groaned and pressed forward, bucking my hips onto his finger as his tongue washed over my clit. I groaned as he swirled his hot, moist tongue around the nub of my pleasure, sighing as I felt my body edging closer and closer to orgasm. What should have been one of the most terrifying days of my life had quickly turned into the most climactic… And in more ways than one! Here, I had a bona fide werebear licking my pushy, digging his tongue into me and bringing me to the brink of yet another hip bucking, earth-rumbling, heart-pounding orgasm.

My juices flowed like a babbling creek and I let out a long, low whine as I came, my ass clenching and unclenching around his finger. I shuddered so did my hips as I came. He continued to lick my clit obediently, even as it throbbed and quivered under the power of my orgasm.

With a sigh, my orgasm finished up and I lay back, relaxing as Gaston got onto his knees. Before I knew what was happening, I realized he was pressing the tip of his cock against my tight, puckered asshole.

“Just relax,” he advised me as he pressed into me. I sighed, trying to relax as much as possible but I knew what was coming up… The fat tip of his cock slide first into me and I whimpered, bucking my hips slightly but trying to keep my body under control, trying to force myself to accept this hard, long, fat cock. It worked its way into my tightness and I sighed, whimpering as it spread me open.

“It… It hurts a little,” I whimpered. “But keep going. I want you to fuck me… everywhere.”

Gaston obeyed and he leaned into me, driving his cock even deeper into my asshole. I whined and whimpered as it disappeared into my ass, my tightness squeezing his thick rod, my muscles finally giving up their resistance and allowing him to invade me more completely. I began to rub my clit, ever so gently since it was already incredibly sensitive from all of the orgasms I had already experienced that day. I groaned as his cock tore into me, his movements suddenly becoming more animalistic. I cried out as he forced the rest of his cock hard into me, my whole core shuddering as I took his hard cock. He pressed my legs up onto his shoulders and he leaned down into me, making me take it hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I whined, moaning as my ass was forced to accept his long, thick rod, forced to accept it opening me open and fucking its way deep, ever so deep into my ass. I whined and moaned, wanting more of it and wanting relief at the same time. Yet I knew, I just knew that relief would come not through cessation of the fucking but through more of it. Yes, I wanted him to fuck me more, fuck me harder.

“Harder, Gaston,” I moaned. “Please… Please, fuck me harder. Rip me apart.”

There was a hungry, bestial look on his face. He began to pound me, driving his cock hard into my ass. I screamed, the pain and pleasure dueling within me, forcing me to shudder, forcing my body to convulse beneath him. The sensations were enough to push me over the top once more and I felt my body begin to cum, my pussy giving in to my gentle ministrations of my clit.

I screamed as I came, my ass spasming around Gaston’s cock. He kept up with his relentless pounding, driving his fat cock into me over and over, never letting up.

“Harder… Harder… Harder…” I begged, attempting to press my ass up into him. Gaston just responded by shutting me up with a hot kiss. I wanted that, more than anything else: I wanted his lips on mine. I wanted his burning flesh pressed into mine. I wanted to feel him taking me, over and over, and I wanted to be safe and secure in the knowledge that I would get this every day for the rest of my life.

He tweaked and played with my nipples as he fucked me, slamming me and stroking my sensitive nubs at the same time. It was incredibly effective. I found it sending me into pleasant convulsions and I whimpered every time his fingers touched my nipples. First, he would with gentle strokings and then, he would increase the speed and the pressure till my head was spinning with delight.

Then, as he got close to cumming, he began to twist my nipples hard. I shrieked and pressed my chest forward, forcing him to play with me more. His fingers twisted my flesh hard, my sensitive skin screaming in pain and pleasure, my ass all the while accepting his cock obediently, as if it were a disciplined child forced to take a spanking or learn a spelling lesson.

Finally, I felt his cock begin to throb inside of me. He was cumming—I knew it. It pumped and quivered and twitched, and then the hot spurts of cum came, one after another, filling my ass, burning my hot flesh as they invaded me. I wanted it so badly, that I reached down to spread my ass wide for him, allowing the cum to see down into my bowels, into my gut, filling me up. Of course, there was no chance of this giving me a baby as the cum in my pussy would but I was still eager to accept his werecum into my hungry pussy as he fucked me.

With a satisfied sigh, Gaston pulled his cock from my ass. It gaped for a moment, cum leaking out and revealing my pink, brutalized insides before it returned, more or less, to its regular shape and size.

“That was incredible…” I moaned, my body still trembling from having accepted such a rough fucking. Gaston grinned at me, his broad, strong body heaving slightly as he sat back, his long, thick cock growing soft. Suddenly, he was transforming: he grew larger but also shorter, as he became a bear. His armor sloughed off—bears had no need for it—and on his skin grew beautiful, snow-white fur. His face grew a long snout and his ears grew, till they were pointy and sitting atop his head. He was truly a bear now—larger than a wild bear, but just as beautiful, just as brutal and just as wild.

I wrapped myself in the blankets at Gaston settled down beside me, placing his head on my chest. I heard his soft snoring and I reached out to stroke his head as I drifted off to sleep, the embers of our camp fire glowing in the dark forest air…

Battle

I awoke to Gaston nudging me.

“Wha? What is it?”

Gaston was emitting a low growl. I couldn’t see anything but suddenly, I felt hands, strong hands, close around my arms and force me to my feet. The blankets fell away, revealing my nakedness. A series of torches burst into life around us, revealing five figures: two bears and three men, each of whom bore a tattoo similar to Gaston’s. One of the men grasped me now, and the two bears growled and stared down Gaston.

“So, you thought you could make off with our Chief’s property, eh, Gaston? You stupid bastard.”

“I’m no one’s property!” I roared. The bearman who had spoken, a tall, cruel looking man with a torch in one hand, glanced at me and, with a dismissive sneer, slapped me hard across the face. Tears flooded my eyes and I let out a small cry, my head jerking to the side. Gaston howled, his angry apparent from his bared teeth, dripping with saliva and hatred and his eyes, snarling and ready for a fight. His ears were pressed back, flush with his head and his fur stood on end.

“You are. The Chief of the Bear Tribe paid good money for you—damned good money. And there’ll be hell to pay if he doesn’t get his money’s worth.”

The bearman drew a sword from his belt—a curved, evil looking blade, queer looking before it curved forward, instead of back towards the user. Nonetheless, it looked as though it could split skulls as easily as a house wife could split melons with a cleaver…

Now, he drew it along my belly, from the very top of my curly brown down, sitting just above my cunt, up along my soft stomach, nicking my belly button along the way and drawing blood. The sword continued its inexorable rise up my body until it came to rest directly beneath my chin, pressing ever so slightly against me. It wasn’t enough to cut but it was enough to make me sweat in spite of the cold night air surrounding us and it was enough to terrify me. It was enough to make me leery of moving even an inch, lest I slip and cut my own throat. Or lest I give the bearman an excuse to do it instead…

“Kill the traitor,” the bearman, whom I guessed to be their leader, said to the two bears. They were only too pleased, it seemed. They took slow, cautious steps forward, and began to circle Gaston. I began to cry but I was afraid to sob, for the knife was still less than an inch from my jugular.

Gaston, for his part, remained calm. He circled slowly as well, keeping both bears within sight. I noticed that the two attacking bears seemed cautious—maybe they knew that Gaston wasn’t a beast to be trifled with. Maybe they knew that they would need more than superior numbers to overcome him in this battle.

The first leapt at him, charging. Gaston caught the bear in the throat and with one shake of his tremendous head, he tore his opponent’s throat apart. The other bear leapt almost immediately, standing on his hind legs and coming down hard atop Gaston as my hero finished with the first of his opponents.

Now, the two bears wrestled in a tumult of fur, fangs, and blood. And then, suddenly, it was all over: with a gasp, the second of the bears expired—Gaston had gouged his throat as well and he had bled out over the course of their wrestling.

What happened next was a blur. Gaston flew at the bearman holding the torch and in a second, his throat disappeared in an explosion of blood. The bearman holding me pushed me to the ground and grabbed the torch his comrade had been holding, brandishing it at Gaston. Gaston held back for a moment, unsure of whether or not to attack, but just as soon made up his mind. He dove for the bearman’s crotch and a horrible, howling wail filled the forest as blood gushed. The man sunk to his knees but not before searing Gaston with the torch. Quickly, Gaston finished him off with a bite to the throat before hurling himself to the ground, rolling back and forth to put the fire out.

By the point, the other bearman was watching in shock and awe. He too dropped his torch and off he went, into the night. The fire spread over dry leaves, quickly lighting our way through the forest.

Gaston began to transform back and as he did, I saw his naked back was badly burnt.

“Oh, my poor, poor, dear bear,” I gasped, taking the blanket and throwing it around him. I had totally forgotten that I was still naked—by this point, I was frankly very used to being naked.

“Just a flesh wound,” Gaston mumbled, staggering to his feet. His armor had been discarded during our love making and during the fight but now, he scrambled to put it back on as the fire spread.

“It won’t go fire, the fire,” he murmured to me. I pulled on my tunic, since it was clear we wouldn’t be staying in this spot the rest of the night. Gaston pillaged the pockets of the dead men, taking any coins or valuables they had.

“The leaves are still wet but the light will help us find our way. Unfortunately, it’ll also help any of the Chief’s bears find us as well, since this spot will be visible for miles and miles away.”

“What do we do?” I asked, breathless.

“We move as quickly as we can. Come, my little lady. We’ve survived this chapter.”

And indeed we had. I took Gaston’s hand and I saw him gasp a little in pain as he eased his armor over his wounds. Nonetheless, he strode just as confidently as before as we headed off, into the dimly lit forest, away from the corpses and away from the Chief’s bears…

~

We made camp at the edge of a clearing some five miles away from the sight of the battle. Gaston and I walked in silence, our hands clutching one another as the sun ascended high overhead, before starting to drop.

Walking was slow going for both of us—for me, because I was completely unsuited to traversing the tightly wound brush of the forest and for Gaston because he was wounded. Though he was loath to show any weakness, I could see that he was injured, and injured badly.

I wanted to take him in my arms. I wanted to tend to his wounds, to treat him tenderly and assure him that everything would be fine, though he certainly needed no such assurances from me. But I wanted to do something for him. I wanted to take care of him, to take care of this beast who had taken care of me.

Finally, when afternoon was arriving, we stopped and began to settle down.

Gaston went off into the woods in search of game for our dinner. First, he shed his armor, practically all of it, so he stood before me, almost completely naked, his wounds still fresh and visible, the blood almost black.

Then, he began to transform. I watched, completely transfixed as his body morphed before my very eyes, his shoulders broadening, his hair thickening and paling, become the thick mat of white fur that covered the bear now before me. His body continued to grow, continued to swell, his muscles puffing up before me, all covered in fur and now, bear flesh. His snout grew long and came to a point in a dark black nose, while his jaw tucked under his snout, his teeth growing long in the process.

Finally, unable to stand on his hind legs any longer, he collapsed onto his fore-legs, grunting and growling. I saw that his wounds and morphed with him, and that transforming even seemed to have aggravated them.

“Don’t hurt yourself!” I cried. “Be careful.”

He was risking further injury to go hunting for me! Why was I so pathetic—I had no skills, nothing at all to offer this beast who had saved my life… Nothing, of course, except my body.

Still, I was determined to make us a nice camp. I gathered twigs and kindling, and managed to get a small fire smoking before long. I selected a series of thick and thin logs, arranging them in a pyramid over my little fire. After fifteen minutes of heavy blowing on the growing flames, fanning them, and feeding more twigs and leaves to the little conflagration, I was delighted to have a fully formed, fully crackling fire.

Then, I set about finding branches for a lean-to. It would have to be large, I knew, considering Gaston’s size. Even as a man, he was huge, and if he needed to be a bear in the lean-to…

Fortunately, there was a tangle of branches and trees not far from the fire that seemed perfect. Taking up Gaston’s sword, I cut a path to the tangle, tossing the twigs and branches that I sliced away behind me, mentally noting that they could be used for my fire.

Then, I began cutting down long, thick spare branches and arranging them again the tangle of trees, leaning them in such a way that there would be space for at least four people to lie abreast—or one small person and one very, very, very large bear-person.

My little hut took form. Once I had the skeleton built, I began to get smaller twigs and branches to insert in between the nooks and crannies, weaving them as my mother used to weave blankets and tapestries on our farm in the winter time. I weaved in grasses after that, long, thick blades of wild grass that had grown all around the area, and out into the clearing.

Each time I ventured out into the clear, I collected two kinds of grass—dry pieces for the fire, and thicker, healthier pieces for the lean-to. I cemented it all with mud from a nearby stream, patting a thick coating over the top of my lean-to. Then, lighting a branch on fire, I baked the clay slowly, hardening it. In this way, I made sure that the lean-to would be more or less water-proof, as long as a thunder storm didn’t make its way through the forest all of a sudden.

Finally, I began to pick wildflowers, arranging them around the lean-to, working them into cracks, giving the little hut color and brightness. After another hour, it was really beginning to look less like an expediency, something made in desperation, in panic, and more like a real home, the pride of its homemaker.

Would Gaston like it? I hoped he would. I felt as though this is what I had to offer him—the promise of a good home, a warm place to sleep, and thin, soft legs to wrap around his waist…

I felt a stirring in my belly. I knew it was just hunger, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it were something more. Gaston had sown his seed in my womb. He hadn’t pulled out, which is what I know the boys in my village had done in order to insure that their lovers wouldn’t be with child—not that it was all that effective, of course. But Gaston hadn’t even bothered.

Instead, he had enjoyed sewing his seed in my womb, enjoyed the way I moaned and squirmed as he filled me with his essence… And now, I wondered if it would take root, if it would quicken inside of me, if I would be pregnant—if this bear man had put a baby in my belly…

Though I was in no way capable or ready to take care of a child, I couldn’t help but be… Excited? Truly? Yes, excited by the prospect of carrying Gaston’s child deep within my loins…

Would it be a bear-child, like him? Would it be born as a bear or as a human? How would he grow up—to be like his father?

I heard a rustling in the brush behind me and I turned to see Gaston approaching me, now a human, two deer carcasses slung over his shoulder.

“Good hunting?” I asked, trying to appear casual, as if I hadn’t just been imagining his child in my belly.

“It’ll be even better eating,” Gaston grunted. And then his eyes fell on the lean-to I had made, and our campfire.

“I…”

“Do you like it?” I asked quickly, blushing.

“I’m impressed,” he said with a grin. “Very impressed.”

I let out a sigh of relief. The look on Gaston’s face—a look of innocent delight and surprise—that was worth everything I had done in the past few hours.

Gaston dressed the deer and began to roast them over our fire. I made a simple rub from wild herbs that we massaged into the meat and before long, the rich, inviting smell of warm, cooking venison filled our nostrils. It was positively intoxicating and it took all of my self-control not to launch myself at the half-cooked meat, digging in and devouring whatever I could tear off the bone.

We waited, however, and finally, Gaston deemed the meal done. We dug into our hunks of meat hungrily, ravenously, devouring the venison faster than we could stuff it into our mouths.

There was a huge amount of food, but it seemed to disappear right before our eyes and into our bellies. I realized that it had been days since I had eaten, and even more days since I had eaten so well.

We slurped from a skin filled with water as we ate, and we ate in silence, savoring the food, and the warmth of the fire.