ROMANCE: MY ALIEN KING: Scifi Alien Invasion Abduction Contemporary Romance (Paranormal Fantasy BBW Alien Contact Anthologies & Collections Book 1) (69 page)

              There was no room for negotiation now.  Tess had only one answer to Rendar's nakedness.  Her own clothing went the way of any further inhibitions, and they took their mutual nakedness to the inviting softness of Rendar's bed.

              It began as all such things must, with the simple delight of discovery in kissing and touching.  Sitting up together on their knees on the bed, face to face, body to body, they set their hands and lips free to further the acquaintance of their hearts.  Rendar's lips sweetly enfolded Tess's, showing her the tenderness and caring underlying the warrior's strength.  His lips and tongue traveled down her neck and over her shoulders, showing her the fondness that until now he had shown only with words.  Touching became a language of its own, a language underlined by the roaming of their hands along one another's bodies.  Tess found it delicious that Rendar's hands, so skilled in wielding weapons and pummeling opponents, could be so surprisingly soft.  That softness now cupped and squeezed her breasts and teased her nipples, and reached down and around to embrace her bottom with fingers like steel jacketed in velvet. 

              Only the joy of her own hands on him surpassed the feeling of his on her.  The same velvet-coated steel of his hands greeted her touch on Rendar's shoulders and chest.  She massaged the muscles of his shoulders, making her fingers tense and release and drawing a heat of pleasure out of him.  Then she gave the same service to his pecs, which were like twin continents of flesh covered with fields of hair, and his nipples, like hardened peaks upon the continents.  Rendar sucked at Tess's mouth, encouraging her to discover more.  Her hands dove far down below to grasp the warrior's club, a weapon designed to strike ecstasy, not punishment, into the body that received it.  And a club it was, as thick and massive as it was hard.  It strained at her stroking touch like a steed pulling against his reins and ready to gallop.  Behind the straining steed lay a large, round, soft carriage containing two passengers bearing a liquid gift meant for Tess alone.  She cupped the sac of his
briole
and gently squeezed it, telling him that she was ready for his gift, every drop that he had to offer.

              Rendar let his lips part from hers and broke their embrace, only to lie spread out in all his naked warrior's glory before her.  He took his club in hand and made it stand at attention like a soldier before her.  "Please suck my
zazansa,
" he requested.

              Tess did not hesitate.  At once she was down between his legs, her tongue returning his soldier's salute.  She licked his piece up and down and swirled her tongue over the head that protruded from the foreskin, and savored the salty taste of the stickiness flowing freely from it.  He bucked his crotch into her face and let his erection slide up into her mouth, over her tongue.  Tess steadied herself and him with a hand on the hard plates of his abdomen and held his huge length in her mouth, making him give a groan that was like a war-cry of raw sex.  At this, Tess began her oral inspection of his soldier in earnest.  She slid her mouth up and down over it, showing Rendar with one part of her what she so wanted him to do with another part.  His continued groans of increasing pleasure spurred her on.  She sucked him deeply, taking the head of his tool all the way back to her throat, and made him writhe on the bed grunting curses of delight in an alien tongue.  With every pull and slurp of her mouth, Tess called her mighty warrior to the final battle that yet lay before them.

              As if on cue, Rendar reared up on his elbows, put one hand under Tess's chin to lift her face and pull his
zazansa
glistening wet from her mouth, and said into her euphoric expression, "Lie down for me.  I cannot wait to
shadaal
you a moment longer."

              Tess obeyed this commander of her heart and body, and spread out on her back for him as he had done for her.  With as quick and decisive a movement as when he pulled down his leggings and showed her his artillery, he now climbed atop her, deployed himself between her legs, aimed, and fired into her wetness.

Tess cried out, "Ooohhh...!" at his first hard, savage thrust.  Lying atop her and pinning her to the bed, Rendar took her with a strength and ferocity to match the tenderness of his earlier touches.  Her entire body felt as if it would burst from his hard, fast, deep penetrations, and Tess knew that she had just become a most willing territory, submitting joyously to conquest.

              Rendar's sweet curses of bliss mixed with Tess's sounds of rapture as he pounded relentlessly inside her, demanding her unconditional surrender, receiving her passionate submission.  His thick and straining hardness plundered Tess's drenched and yielding depths, claiming her more and more with each slamming beat.  Rendar threw the full force of his massive muscles into every thrust, bombarding Tess with the ecstasy that only a body like his could give, stretching and filling her womanhood with every blast of his manly cannon.  It was all she could do to hold on tight and take his relentless pounding, focusing her entire being on what was happening deep inside her with Rendar's
zazansa
ramming into her again and again.  It was the most maddeningly wonderful thing she had ever known.

              Humping her furiously, Rendar came up on his elbows atop her and burned a look of unbridled need into Tess's face.  He grunted and puffed down at her through clenched teeth, and she could sense that his moment to deliver his final payload into her womb was upon them.  With a last grunt and puff, he slammed himself all the way into her and roared, "
SHADAAL...UUUHHH...!
"  And Tess could almost swear that she felt the bomb-burst of seed into her depths.  Rendar held his full length into her and ground his crotch against her mound as if to wring every last drop of it from his
briole.
  He held the two of them together for what seemed a moment poised on the brink of forever until at last he relaxed and fell atop her, having conquered both Tess's body and his own warrior's need.

              They were hardly aware of Rendar rolling off of her and to one side.  The next thing they knew, they lay together facing each other, Tess fondling his
zazansa
while he did the same for the pulpy little trigger nestled in her folds down below.  His thumb worked at her, flicking her own wetness from her dripping petals onto her nub, bringing her along with every passing stroke to the moment of her own release.  When it came, it was another war-whoop inside her, a rising exultation of joy at her territory now being completely under his control.  With a tingle of satisfaction racing through her body, Tess accepted her warrior's terms completely.  But when Rendar slipped his fingers deep into the passage that he had now claimed as his own and captured her lips in another kiss, Tess knew without a doubt that the sweet sexual battle of their bodies had only begun, and that Rendar would continue to ravage her womanhood and make her love it for many more hours, on into tomorrow and beyond.  She had no choice but to continue surrendering.  She was the happy prisoner of his desire.

              With Tess in his bed, the warrior, now leader of his tribe, would be hard pressed to do any actual leading for the time being, while he went on pressing himself inside the diplomat.  This was one battle in which there were no enemies and the laying down of weapons was not to be desired.

THE END

Scotland, the side of a mountain.

Spring, 1763. Noon.

Visibly annoyed, Elizabeth couldn’t help but stare out the window of her coach.

“Can this carriage not go any faster?” She lifted her head upward as she spoke to the coachman.

“Not here, it can’t! This isn’t England, milady!” The man answered without giving her as much as a glance. The beautiful Elizabeth wasn’t used to not being stared at, but this time it was a welcome change of pace.

“These are the highlands of Scotland! We’ll be lucky if we get anywhere without losing a wheel or tipping over!” He spoke again, as if spurred by her silence.

“Well, that is just marvelous! For the money I’m paying you, you should find a way to work around it!” She said, now observing the scenery rather than the man. The surrounding mountains appeared beyond harsh, yet possessed a rough kind of beauty. The kind of beauty she didn’t know existed up until then.
Too bad the coachman isn’t half as amusing.

“And the amount of money you’ve offered is the sole reason I even took this job, milady! Besides, I wouldn’t worry about speed as much as safety out here!”

Safety?
“Just what are you referring to?” She asked, her gaze turned back toward him now.

“The highland is a dangerous place, love! And when I say that, I mean more than the scenery!”

“Be more specific, please! The natives? Local wildlife? What?” She could feel her fingernails bite into her palms as she spoke.
This man is beginning to annoy me.

“All that, and more, I’m, afraid! Otherwise, people would’ve jumped at the chance of transporting you over the border! Have you ever thought about that, milady?” Hints of a smile could be detected in the man’s voice.

“Oh, I’ve thought about a great many things, good sir. Enough to make me undertake this trip, after all. You think I’ve made this decision lightly?”

“Indeed I do. But what do I know? I am just a coachman after all, milady. And respectfully, no matter how much thought you’ve given this, it couldn’t possibly have been enough. There’s the rest of the world, and then there’s Scotland. In my own experience, the two don’t mix.
At all.
”

“I see,” was all she could say after a few moments of contemplation.

“Say, would you mind sharing your reason for coming here, milady?” He interrupted the silence.

“As a matter of fact I would, if you do not mind. It is my business, and it would please me if you stayed out of it,” she replied in an annoyed tone.
He may know his trade, but I do not like this man one bit.

“Too bad. Sorry to bother you, then. Must be one hell of a tale!”

“You are forgiven. Just do not do it again, please,” she said as she retreated into her cabin, pulling her long blue sleeve behind her so it doesn’t stay outside. The scenery was indeed breathtaking, but the man had reminded her of unwholesome things, and she felt like being by herself.
A hell of a tale, he says.
She laughed grimly.
Perhaps it is. For me, it was more ‘hell’ that tale, though.

It was only two days ago that she had made the fateful decision. Her lands, title, even the money that by all accounts should have been hers; she would leave it all behind and flee into the unknown. Everyone else would kill a chance to be in her shoes.
Me, I would rather kill myself than do what was expected of me.

She sighed, pulled out a mirror from the large purse to her side, and observed her reflection. A beautiful, heart-shaped face. A pair of sizeable, almond-shaped eyes parted by a small nose. Beneath it all, full, sensual lips the color of natural red. And finally, that beautiful visage was crowned by a full head of waist-length blond curls. Everything worked in tandem with her sky-blue dress, producing a figure of angelic, feminine beauty.
Yet it all amounts to nothing,
she mirthlessly said, placing her mirror back in its place.
It matters not at all when I am to be married to that… that fop!
She found the word difficult to articulate, even within her mind. She had heard of the expression in the past, but didn’t know full well what it meant. Until she met her betrothed, that is.

Painfully thin and weak of chin (albeit his nose more than compensated), the young William Guilford had to use generous amounts of make-up and expensive clothing in order to make himself appear presentable.
And it didn’t help him all that much.
What little he said, Elizabeth wished that he hadn’t, and his body language was painful to watch.
I know that you are rich and come from a great family, William! No need to stick it my face like that!
Even though the prospect now lay behind her, she couldn’t help but get angry. Once again, she buried her fingernails into her palms.

I had no other choice,
she thought as she conjured up the memory of herself stealing a hefty amount of money from her mother’s room while the woman was in one of her stupors. She had no idea how to do it, but one thing was certain: for as long as she remained in England, she would not be free.
Where there is civilization, there are Cornwalls,
her father would always say. She took it to heart. Scotland was supposedly a wild land, populated by unkempt savages, or at least so she was taught.
Let us see you find me here, in the highlands!
she taught as she smiled in her coach, her mind back in the present.

Still, perhaps I should have taken a hint and reconsidered this…
She remembered how less than keen the coachmen for hire were, even after she had unfastened her bag and shown them her pounds.
Only the man up there wanted to take me, and even he had been reluctant.
For a while, she stared at the floor like that, lost in her own thoughts.

Oh, well. What’s done is done!
she reminded herself of the finality of her decision. She was well on route toward the
closest highland city
, as she had told the man. He had told her that it was a place called
Oban
. There was no turning back.

She laid herself back, feeling liberated. There was no way to tell what was going to happen next, but she was free. Free from William and from the gilded cage her family had prepared for her.
Who knows? With the amount of money I’ve… borrowed, I might be able to create a good life for myself,
she reassured herself.
And with that thought, she drifted into a light sleep.

Later?

Being less than comfortable, and light of sleep as well, it didn’t take much for Elizabeth to be roused from her slumber. The coachman was yelling something, although she couldn’t quite make out what it was.
Does he not see that I do not wish to be disturbed?
She sluggishly stuck her head out the window, preparing herself to reprimand him. When she saw what was happening outside, she immediately wished that she hadn’t.

Oh, by the Lord, no!
she silently exclaimed. The carriage was suddenly surrounded by several dozen men that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Muscled, hairy, and adorned in wear that she had never seen before, they did not seem pleased to see these interlopers.
Are those… skirts?
The coachman tightened his rears in an attempt to make the horses stomp over the first two men that were in his way. He was about to say something too, when an arrow pierced through his neck and stayed there.

Faced with his imminent death, the man quickly lost control of his carriage, and instead of continuing onward, the horses changed direction instead. Now shocked back into consciousness, Elizabeth pulled her head back inside and grabbed the edges of the window, preparing herself for an imminent crash. Rumbling, crackling and tumbling, the coach jumped and trembled underneath her.
This is it! I am going to fall down a ledge!
She gritted her teeth, trying to persuade herself that she had made her choice, and that there was no room for regrets. It did not work at all, and she could feel her whole body shiver in response.

Then, after a good deal of rattling, the carriage abruptly stopped. The force of the halt had propelled her forward, and only a timely interception of both her hands had prevented her from breaking her nose when she hit the seat on the other side.
Has the coach fallen into a small ditch, then?
The thought was comforting, but the idea of being surrounded by barbarians was far less so.
What are they going to do to me?
She bit the inside of her lip, causing it to bleed just a little bit. Footsteps could be heard from the outside, a clear indication that the wild men had no intention whatsoever of leaving her be.
Perhaps there may be room for regrets yet…

A shadow went over her window, apparently belonging to a man who was not quite close enough to stick his head inside and look. A moment later another one followed.
Someone will look inside any moment now.
The image of her coachman being shot through the throat showed up in her mind, and continued repeating again and again.
Is that what they are going to do to me? Or is it going to be… worse?
She could feel her heart pounding faster. Her breathing would have increased in pace as well, had she remembered to do it at all.

“Top of the day tae ye, lassie!” A voice could be heard, right from the outside of her window. It was masculine and powerful, yet melodic in a strange way. She had never heard a Scotsman speak before, and the way he rolled his R’s would have sounded comical to her, were she not in her dire situation. Having been completely overtaken by instinct, she did not reply. Instead, Elizabeth sat on the floor of the coach, pressed her back on one side, and hugged her knees with both arms. She had no plan, and by all accounts, had consigned herself to her fate.
Whatever that might be…

“Are ye going tae step out? I dinnae wish tae drag such a bonnie lassie out by th’hair!” The man spoke again.

The Lord help me.
She made herself rise, and felt that she did not shake as much as she expected to.
This man’s voice, wild though it might be, does seem to calm me somewhat.
She grabbed the side of her window again, and started to pull herself out. Almost momentarily, a pair of strong, hirsute hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her out effortlessly.
Just what is he trying to do?
she asked herself as the man lifted her up, but as she found herself staring into the man’s green eyes, she found herself unable to do anything else.

He was beyond handsome, although in an unusually rough way. His face was strong, with a week-old red beard. His hair was of the same shade, albeit significantly longer. His body rippled with bulging muscles, and nearly every inch of it was covered in thin, fiery hair. He wore one of those skirt-things, yet it was amazing how it did not detract from his appearance.

“Now, is it nae better out here?” He asked as he put her down on what passed for ground in this wayward country. It was uneven and rough, and she was certain that would have cut into her feet was she not wearing her shoes.

“Who are you and what are you going to do to me?” She asked, unable to comprehend just how disrespectful her tone had made her sound.

“That isnae the way tae speak to th’Laird! Show proper respect, or I’ll chop off yer tits n’ slap ye with ‘em!” One of the men exclaimed from the side. The man who had pulled her out of the coach did not say a word. Instead, he stared at her with a mixture of amusement and… something
else
.

Oh, Lord… he hasn’t taken a liking to me, has he?
She had undertaken her journey to
escape
from a man, not to leap into the hands of another.
Despite how strong those hands might be.
She shook the thought from her head, causing another bemused reaction from the man.

“Since ye asked nicely, I’ll indulge ye. This man we’ve shot through th’neck was a regular blackguard. Works with one of ‘em ransom-asking clans way up north. If we dinnae stop him, he’d have sold ye to them the way one’d sell a hen!” The men laughed at his remark, and he smiled as he talked.

Elizabeth was so shocked she had to cover her mouth with her hand.
So, those were his intentions… I was a fool.
Then, having composed herself, she again took a posture that denoted her excellent breeding. “Then I am afraid that I have misjudged you, good sirs. Thank you so much for your assistance!” She took a polite bow as she spoke. The men did not seem impressed.

“Why, would ye look at that! We’ve got ourselves a proper English lass here! Tell me, lassie, dae ye perform tricks?” Another man spoke with a mixture of curiosity and outright disdain. Most of the others laughed. The man who had pulled Elizabeth from the carriage did not.

“That’ll be enough of that! We’ve a long way back home, and I dae not intent to waste it here! Move!” He announced as he directed a disapproving stare toward every present party, Elizabeth included. What little safety she could feel due to the way he looked at her had evaporated that very instant.

“Sir? What about me?” She forced herself into asking. The way everyone looked at her made her wish that she hadn’t.