by Jade White
She had a minor orgasm and felt a wetness course out of her, wicked up by his pubic hair, and worked harder, pumping herself against him like an exercise machine as he drove her toward an even greater climax.
They changed positions, and she turned around so that her back was facing him. His hands scratched at her, moving lower until they reached her round buttocks. “Harder, fuck me harder,” she said, her feet curling up as she plowed into him. “Make me cum, unnh, Rodney, make me cum hard,” her words slipped out of her like butterflies and lost themselves in the air around them.
Rodney reached down and spread her cheeks wider. He bucked upward, causing her to squirm and grunt with each movement. At the same time, his thumb moved lower, tracing her anus. She seemed to enjoy this even more and bent forward, flattening herself against his legs as he teased her. There was enough moisture on both of them, and he tested the limits of their relationship by moving his thumb over her perineum, then back up to her anus.
The way she thrust her buttocks toward him, he knew she was eager for yet another new experience. Slowly, he pressed his thumb against the stricture, and was surprised to find her willing. He moved his thumb deeper, penetrating her anus and Kristen let out a low wail.
“If you do that, I’m going to cum, I can’t help it,” she said, her hands latching onto his ankles over the sheet.
“I think you’ve earned it,” he said, pressing his thumb deeper, and bucking his hips upward at the same time. Kristen reacted as if she’d been hit by something, her body creating a wave as she lifted her waist.
“More!” she pleaded. Their sexes were drenched now, and Rodney was breathing hard, his own hair plastered over his face. He moved his finger deeper into her anus and bucked again, thrusting his member hard up against the palate of her G-spot.
Kristen reached for a spare flap of the sheet and stuffed it in her mouth to keep from screaming. Her waist wobbled, causing her buttocks to jiggle in front of him as her climax reached through her body. Rodney let out a mild grunt as he came as well, but Kristen had already pulled herself away. His seed spurted onto her ass, and began to run down the ravine between her cheeks.
She turned and faced him again, a dizzy look on her face. Rodney helped her back under the sheets as she reached down and continued to stroke his member, her hand growing sticky with its residue. She brought her fingers up to her mouth and smelled him once before licking them clean. The salty aftertaste clung to her mouth with a heavy dryness, and she yearned to quench it against his lips again.
Rodney grunted, putting the back of his arm across his eyes. “I think you just set back my recovery by a week,” he joked, breathing hard. Kristen traced his chest with her fingers, and reached over him for the brownies on the chair, her large breasts squishing against his pecs.
“I’d say just what the doctor ordered,” she said, offering him a brown square.
Patiently, they ate in silence, both of them draped against one another like bodies that had been spilled out of the same vessel. It was Rodney who spoke first, and although Kristen had been enjoying the quiet, she could see there was something that had been on the tip of his tongue since she’d first entered.
“What is it?” she asked before he opened his mouth.
“Well,” he rubbed his head, “maybe this is premature, maybe not, but I was just thinking. You know, with a baby on the way, we… well, we haven’t even really thought of a name yet. I mean, we don’t even know the sex yet, so I guess I’m getting ahead of myself-”
“It’s a boy,” she said matter-of-factly.
Rodney couldn’t contain his surprise. “A-are you sure? How do you know?”
She pressed her finger to his nose. “A mother knows. And a Shifter mother knows even better. I think it was when I was fighting with Theo, I knew – I began to sympathize with him. I don’t think there was any other way for it to end, but I pitied him. It must have been a terrible burden, trying to keep his family alive. I suppose… in his position I would do the same thing, whatever it took to protect the people I love.”
“If it wasn’t possible for him to find a place in society, where he could belong… then I agree, we can pity him. But we shall not dismiss him,” Rodney agreed. “Sometimes the world seems terribly cruel and unfair.”
Kristen buried her face against him. She didn’t want to think about it. There were too many other wonderful and beautiful things to look forward to. An entire life was waiting for them outside the window, eagerly anticipating their return.
That’s it, she thought.
With a somnolent twist of her body she faced him again, and cocked her head. “I think I have the perfect name for him. A name that might stand for peace, for a second chance,” she said timidly, and saw Rodney raise an eyebrow. “How about… Theo?”
Her mate cocked his head in turn, and then grinned. “I think it’s perfect.”
THE END
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BOOK TEN
The Wolf's
Forbidden Baby
A PARANORMAL PREGNANCY ROMANCE
ELLIE VALENTINA
Copyright ©2015 by Ellie Valentina
All rights reserved.
About This Book
Kyla is not the type to jump into bed with a guy she met at a bar but there is something about Devan that is different.
She hits it off with him right away and before either of them realize what is going on they are spending the weekend together in bed.
However, both of them have secrets. Devan is a werewolf and Kyla is a werecoyote.
Mating between these species is expressly forbidden.
And things are set to get even more complicated as Kyle discovers she is pregnant with Devan's baby.
Not only is their relationship forbidden but they now have a forbidden baby too.
And both are about to suffer the consequences of their actions...
CHAPTER ONE
Dim lighting and rock-n-roll music barely audible over the many conversations and laughter from the patrons greeted Devan Kemper the moment he entered the bar. Normally, he wasn’t one for crowds, having been a loner for five years now, but tonight, Friday night, he needed to get out of his apartment. A drink or two, that’s all.
A stumbling couple almost plowed into him on their way out, so he walked in farther and claimed the first empty seat at the bar. It took the harassed and worn-looking bartender a good twenty minutes to make her way over to him, but he didn’t mind. Out of habit, he had been observing the place, noting the loners lurking in separate corners, the group of guys trying to act like macho men, and a young crowd of early twenty-somethings, one of which wearing a tiara. Bachelorette party, if he had to guess.
“What do you want?” the bartender asked as she wiped the counter in front of him.
“Whatever’s on special.” Beer, liquor, anything. His poison didn’t matter as long as it had alcohol in it.
She nodded and rushed to fill his order.
Warmth brushed against his side as a newcomer squeezed forward to place her order. He barely glanced at her.
“Oh, that looks good.” Her voice sounded nice, like a song even, unlike the deeper, smoker-raspiness of the bartender.
The woman beside him was right. His drink—a purple concoction the likes of which he never had before—did look good.
“What is it?” he asked the bartender as he handed her a ten.
She grinned, revealing yellow teeth. “My specialty. Only eigh
t apiece, but I doubt anyone can drink more than three without being on the floor.”
He waved away his change and swallowed a large gulp. Smooth. Sweet but not too much. Maybe some vodka, maybe not. The overall taste of alcohol wasn’t strong, and he had to fight the urge to chug it, given her warning. He could handle alcohol, but it had been ages since he last imbibed, so he might want to take it a little slow.
“Good?” the newcomer asked.
Devan glanced up at her. She was tall, maybe five foot nine, but he would still tower her by a half foot. Toned, sleek, she put those party girls to shame. Maybe twenty-five, his own age.
He nudged the drink toward her. “Taste for yourself.”
She brushed her long blond hair back, but the move didn’t seem practiced to him. Her long fingers curled around the glass, and he found himself eyeing her as she took a sip, the slender slope of her neck, her curved jawline.
“I’ll have one,” she announced. She held out the drink for him to reclaim.
His fingers brushed against hers as he took it. He needed to adjust himself, but with her so close, he couldn’t risk it, not with those sweet baby blues fixed on him. Just because I’ve been by myself for so long. The animal inside hated that he was alone and he could feel the tugging, the pulling, the desire to cut loose and be free, to give in and take as he wanted. Not here. Not now.
Abruptly, she moved to the right, but it was only to claim the seat beside him, now vacated, the previously occupant staggering toward the door.
The bartender laughed as she placed another purple drink on the counter. “He only had one and a half,” she crowed.
“What a softie.” The woman took a deep swallow. Her dress clung to her curves, but in a sexy, not slutty, way. Not low cut either, he noted. Minimal makeup. She didn’t need more.
For whatever reason, he shifted toward her. “Sounds like someone might be up to the challenge.”
She lifted her glass toward him. “Someone might be.”
They clinked glasses and both drank. Out of habit, he found himself glancing around again.
“Waiting for someone?” Something flashed in her eyes.
“No.” One of the lurkers was hunched over, passed out maybe. The other one was digging into some wings and didn’t seem that important anymore. His paranoia had to end at some point. It’s been five years. They wouldn’t send someone after me now.
Could he believe that? That he was free? He hoped so. The animal inside hoped for it too, one of the few things they agreed on.
“A good-looking guy like yourself all alone?” Her next swallow left her glass with less liquid than his.
He matched her pace and then some. “Could say the same about you.”
Her laugh easily reached him despite the background music and conversations. “I’m not a good-looking guy.”
“No but…” He fumbled for words. This was the most he had to talk to anyone in a long while, and flirting—was he flirting?—well, it had been a long time since he attempted it.
She held out her hand. “I’m Kyla.”
“Devan.” Her hand felt softer than silk, but her grip was surprisingly firm. He, and the animal, liked it, and he had no choice but to fix his jeans, the denim taunt against his growing manhood.
“So, Devan, what’s your story?” Kyla drained the rest of hers and motioned for two more.
He drank his, swallow after swallow, relishing in the warmth that trailed down to his belly and even lower. “You don’t want to hear about me,” he said as he placed the empty glass on the table.
The bartender gave them a knowing smile as she placed their second round in front of them.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” she said lightly.
“Fine… but you first.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t like to play fair, do you? And after I bought you a drink too.”
He barked a laugh. “I’ll buy you that third one… if you can handle it.”
She leaned toward him and clinked their full glasses. “Oh, I can handle a lot.”
Devan moved toward her, close enough to smell her floral perfume, but she pulled back.
“Including your story.” Kyla sipped her drink and eyed him boldly.
“I’m just a boring guy,” he protested.
“Boring guys don’t look like they’re ready to kill someone when asked about themselves.” She lowered her glass onto her napkin. “I know. Let me guess.”
“You’ll never—”
“You’re on the run.”
He sucked in a breath. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, you’re paranoid about something. A cop maybe or a criminal breaking parole.”
Devan shook his head. “Those guesses couldn’t be more opposite.”
She shrugged. “Maybe, but you’re hiding something, and I’m just guessing it’s yourself.”
Wow did she have good intuition. He was running away, not that he could tell her the truth, but maybe part of it…
“Five years ago, I left my brother behind.”
She took another sip, gaze fixed on him, and he appreciated her not prompting him with questions.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the dim lighting that played off the deep red of her dress. Maybe it was just because he needed someone to talk to finally. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t stop talking. “I couldn’t handle him, what he was doing. His decisions, his choices, they weren’t good, and they were affecting more than just him. He wouldn’t listen to me, and if I had stayed… Let’s just say it wouldn’t have been good.”
Her blue eyes watched as he swallowed half of his second drink in two gulps. “Sometimes people can’t be helped.”
“Nope.”
But that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. His brother’s decisions had been all for his benefit, and not for their pack. As wolves, if he had continued to challenge his brother, they would have had to fight… to the death. Only love for the sibling his brother used to be had forced Devan to flee rather than force the issue. His brother was just as strong as him, an inch taller and with a longer arm span, so Devan could very well have been the one to pay the ultimate price. He’d hoped some of the other werewolves would’ve sided with him and parted ways too so they could be saved, but no one else had. That was why he had been alone for five years, alone despite being a wolf and craving a pack. He needed his family to be whole.
“I know a little about family squabbles.” She shifted away from him and stared at her drink, cradling it in both hands. “My mom… well, let’s just say she won’t be winning a Mother of the Year award anytime soon.”
“Let me guess. She wants you to hurry up and marry and give her a grandchild already.” He laughed, trying to coax a smile out of her and ease the tension some.
Her gaze pierced through him, as if she could see through his speech and to the heart of his words’ double meaning. “She can’t want anything anymore. She’s dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. She… She made some bad decisions herself. Even before that, she never was the motherly type. God, I need another drink.”
Now, their laugh helped to settle them, and the heaviness disappeared. Good. He hated seeing her frown, but even that didn’t mar her beauty. Even more than her looks, he wanted to learn more about her. For the moment at least, he had banished the loneliness with her help.
“Think it’s time to change the subject.” He grabbed the container of bar nuts and enjoyed their salty crunchiness. “What do you do, Kyla?”
“I’m a lifeguard.”
The idea of her in a bathing suit only stirred the wolf inside him. For five years, he hadn’t shifted or allowed even his wolf to have a say in his actions. Right now, he knew what his wolf wanted and he couldn’t help wanting the same thing.
“A lifeguard, huh?”
“Yes. I like helping people, and I’m a good swimmer.” Her shrug caused the strap of her dress to fall down.
/> He adjusted it for her, his fingers lingering on her shoulder.
Kyla’s full lips curled into an easy smile.
“Helping people is admirable.” He wanted to smack himself and withdrew his hand. Couldn’t he have come up with something better to say?
“I’m used to it. I’m one of nine so…”
Devan choked on his drink. “Nine?”
“Two of my brothers died, so really, one of eleven.”
“Wow. And I thought my having four siblings was a lot.”
“Got you beat.” She slammed down her empty glass. “In more ways than one.”
Not wanting to be outdone, he finished his. He was definitely feeling the effects of the drinks—bold, empowered, and craving something other than nuts and more drink.
“Your job, Devan?”
“I’m a construction worker.”
Her hand touched his bicep, and he flexed for her. Her eyes widened. “Not bad,” she teased.
He claimed her hand and engulfed hers in both of his. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
The bartender approached. “Want more?” she asked.
Devan turned to Kyla.
“I do want more,” she whispered, looking at him and not the bartender.
“Wanna get out of here?” he heard himself asking.
Her smile lit up the dark establishment. “I thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER TWO
Devan opened the door to his Civic and couldn’t look away from her long lean legs as she climbed in, the skirt of her dress hiking up to reveal her toned, creamy thigh. She spied his lingering gaze, threw back her head, the starlight shining on her neck, and gave forth a deep, groin-aching laugh that shot straight through him.
Hopefully it was dark enough she wouldn’t see his blush. Him blushing. At one point, he had had any woman he wanted, but that felt like another lifetime. Keeping to himself had kept him alive, but what kind of life was he living? He needed to spend time with other people, to form connections. It was in his nature as a werewolf. Social beings. That was he was.
