BULL: MC ROMANCE (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 6)

by Samantha Leal

  “Kiley, I don’t know how your species gets anything done,” he said breathlessly, and with complete sincerity, as he continued his forceful thrusts.

  I almost burst out laughing for at least the second time that day. Instead, I reached around and grabbed his ass, digging my nails into the surface of his cheeks and pulling him into me. The connection and the moment sent me into another wave of convulsing pleasure as I climaxed around his buried shaft.

  I knew he must be close to cumming himself but I wanted to extend our pleasure just awhile longer, so I pulled him out of me and got up on all fours on the bed. I turned away from him and presented him with my ass. He looked at me puzzled for a split second as I shook my ass in his face, before he saw the allure of the posture in about a split second. He stuck his face right in my ass and licked my wetness for an instant before bringing his hips over to meet mind.

  “Is this what you want?” he said. He was seriously asking a question. Rather than speak, I bowed my head and shoulders, and allowed my back to arch so he could see I was ready to take him again.

  He did not need any coaching this time as he plunged his length into my waiting lips. He held my ass firm. “Fuck me Nathan”, I cried. And he did exactly that. Only this time he managed to make it even more sensual as he plunged into my waiting gap. With his knees on the bed he pulled my hips back to meet his, as we pumped against each other. He was breathing heavy now and I knew he was about to explode inside of me. I couldn’t wait to feel his heat spray my depths.

  “I can’t stop it,” he panted.

  “I don’t want you to…I want you to cum inside me,” I cried in response, as I pushed my pussy even wider onto his cock as his balls slapped against my clit. It was too much and I felt my own orgasm building inside me like a volcano about to blow. Suddenly he let out a deep guttural cry as he released a hot stream of cum deep in my belly. My pussy was convulsing as I too screamed in the throes of passion. For a moment it was just juices and sweat and the heat of our bodies as we were both lost all thought in the bliss of our union. Oh my God it felt so good to be so close to him. I realized that there was something about the combination of his sexual innocence as well as surprising prowess that felt perfect for me. I had to admit the having-sex-with-an-alien-on another-planet made it pretty hot too. Finally, both of us spent I fell onto my belly as he slumped on top of me. His hot breath came softly in my ear.

  “That was incredible Kiley.” Thank you for sharing your body with me in that way.”

  “Really, it was my pleasure Nathan,” I smiled back at him.

  Then he looked at me a little more seriously. “Thank you,” he said again. “If it is alright with you, we will go to the laboratory a little later, after we have …recovered … from this, and they will take our creation from your belly. Is that acceptable to you?”

  “Of course Nathan, I would not have engaged with you in this way had I not understood your motivations. I just hope I have been able to teach you something about connection, sex, and maybe even love. I also can see that your people revere life, and that I will be giving not just one life, but many. I only ask that my offspring receive the same love and reverence you have shown to me.”

  “Of course Kiley. We can speak more of this…but now I am aware of a strange sensation. I feel very…very close to you. I appreciated you and how you would be of service to my people before, but this is different somehow. I want to be near you more. I want to be touching you, even though that’s all I have been doing. I want to be touching you more. Or just be next to you,” he said as he reached out a hand and caressed my face.

  “Well, people can say whatever they want about you aliens, but you are alright with me,” I replied. I kind of liked him to. What initially was probably just hormonal lust had grown into a real connection. I hope he wasn’t seriously falling for me, because connection or not, I still wanted to get back home. “So your people have gotten what you want, right? So can you send me back to earth now, please?” I was shamelessly caressing his chest now. I had to use what tricks I could to shift gears and find a way to get back on honest to goodness terra firma.

  “Well, Kiley, I would have to say that I would rather you stayed. I am sure the Elders would like to experience this for themselves as well. But the truth is that you have served your purpose. It would go against all we stand for to hold you against your will. The truth is also that, with your fresh genetic contribution, we will be able to seed a generation of younglings with enough genetic diversity to ensure the survival of our species. I believe you have also taught us a valuable lesson in the merits of physical connection. You truly will be the mother to a new generation of my people, and for that we are all eternally grateful. Of course we will honor your wishes and send you home.

  “Thank you Nathan,” I said as I kissed him on the lips. “And thank you for the adventure of a lifetime as well.”

  “I should be the one to thank you Kiley. What you have shown me is beyond words. It is almost beyond my comprehension. My people have gained much in their evolution, but now I see that they have lost much as well. I believe things will be changing around here. It will take a few years to bring this next generation to maturity, but it won’t be soon enough for me,” he said with a smile.

  ***

  After we had dressed we did indeed head towards the laboratory where their team were able to extract the samples they needed as well as the product of my union with Nathan. It was a painless procedure, leaving only a small reddish welt that they assured me would fade in a few days’ time.

  My next stop was to bid farewell to the Elders. Nathan had spoken with them and essentially made sure that I could, in fact head home. After his full report it was determined that this was the proper course of action.

  “You have been of great service to our people Kiley,” one of the Elders said, in what had to be the understatement of the light-year. We are grateful for all you have given us, both through our shared experience, as well as in the form of the safeguarding of our very survival. Your progeny will be honored, cared for and loved. Our people are in your debt. We shall return you to your rightful place and time. We will make it as seamless for you as possible.

  With this Nathan and a sort of honor guard led me to a room I had not seen before. It looked like some sort of control room, at the center of which was a glass enclosed bed.

  I still wore my little black dress as Nathan led me inside. “I will never forget you Kiley,” he said simply, as he once again kissed me on the cheek. Then he reached out and first grabbed my ass and then my breast in a half playful, half longing way. “I will miss many things about you. But in a few years we will have a new generation of woman, thanks to you”.

  “One last thing”, he said. “You have literally saved my people,” he added profoundly. As he said this he removed a pendant from a pocket and placed it around my neck. It was on a simple chain and was no more than a metal ring, surrounding a bright blue flat crystalline stone. It was perhaps the size of a quarter and it was dazzling. “If you are ever in need, or if there is any way we may be of service to you in the future, all you need do is hold this gate stone in your hands and think of us. Your thoughts will reach us.”

  With that he guided me onto the bed, turned, and gave me one last solemn bow. Again I was reminded of my crazy new age yoga teacher. “Namaste Nathan”, I said with a smile. He seemed to accept my words with the reverence they were intended for, and with that he closed the door to the chamber. The last thing I remembered seeing was Nathan’s smiling face as I lay my head back on the pillow.

  Epilogue

  I awoke with a start, the smell of stale beer heavy in my nostrils. There was also the distant sound of voices and the low thump of the bass coming from some song or another. What the hell...I thought. I raised my head and opened my eyes. It was light out and I raised my hand to shield my eyes. As I did so, raising myself onto one elbow I looked over and saw Brian lying sound asleep beside me. He looked content enough, with cove
rs pulled up around him as he snored away.

  But what was going on. I felt really disoriented, and was having trouble piecing the previous night together. Wasn’t there some…hadn’t I been somewhere…Yeah, what a crazy dream…Was it a dream? I looked down and saw I was fully dressed in a thin little black dress. Right, Jennifer lent it to me. And where was I? Don’t tell me I stayed the night at a frat house, I thought. Ugh, I anticipated the walk of shame I would have to endure on my way out. But that felt like nothing really. I just felt so weird. Slowly it came back to me…I had had this amazing dream where I had saved a people from extinction, all by having sex. I laughed to myself. I must have drank a lot, because I didn’t even remember passing out. I had been at the party and then I thought Brian …that was Brian, right, I thought Brian and I had been hooking up, but that was it. Then I remembered nothing. There was probably grain alcohol in the punch. That shit was dangerous.

  But what a crazy dream. That guy Nimbo or Nandrew…what was his name in the dream? Well, he was sweet…and God, I had never had dream sex like that before! Man, I had to pee too. Wearily, and definitely nursing a bit of a hangover I headed toward the bathroom. As I did so I caught sight of myself in the cheap full length mirror on the back of the door. There, glowing a beautiful bright blue in the morning sun, and suspended by a silver chain from my neck, was, incredibly, a dazzling blue pendant…The moment in the chamber and Nathan’s words came back to me.

  “Holy fucking shit … ,”was all that escaped my lips…

  THE END

  The Billionaire’s Rumpus Room

  Natalie Nixon

  Copyright ©2015 by Natalie Nixon. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Thank you so much for your interest in my work!

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE: WALL STREET

  CHAPTER TWO: THE OFFER

  CHAPTER THREE: DAVID

  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FIRST LESSON

  CHAPTER FIVE: THE OFFERING

  CHAPTER SIX: THE SECOND LESSON

  CHAPTER SEVEN: A GIFT

  CHAPTER EIGHT: THE FINAL LESSON

  CHAPTER ONE: WALL STREET

  It was another day in the Wall Street boy's club; a term I don't use lightly. The stock world is a testosterone driven arena where men assert their masculinity by driving through deals and collecting commissions. I guess with no more lions to kill or Spartans to battle they've gone from swords to the mobile devices they wave around like old west "shooting irons".

  For those of us who were born without "Y" Chromosomes things are different. Men who push hard are deemed "tough businessmen", but when we do it we're called "bitches." We couldn't even expect support from the few women who had made it. They were too busy watching their own backs to worry about some lowly junior stockbroker in a skirt.

  I was one of those junior brokers, cold calling potential clients, hoping to pull in enough commissions to make the one-year evaluation standards. Fifty percent of us would be cut loose after the first year. Seventy percent of those cut loose would be women.

  I didn't deserve to be doing so much time at the lowest rung. I had graduated at the top of my class, with gleaming endorsements from my professors. But there had been one little slip up that continued to haunt me, I'll go into that later.

  ***

  "Have you considered investing in stocks?" I said, using my best selling voice, "Currently we have a tremendous opportunity available…" but he cut me off in mid-sentence.

  "Yeah, you can save that crap. I saw that Leonardo DiCaprio movie and I know all these stock calls are just scams. Don't call me again or I'll report you." And with that my latest potential meal ticket hung up.

  I pulled my headset off and sat back. I’d been rejected probably fifty times that morning, and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet. One cold call, however, had stayed on the line. But I realized he was more interested in what I was wearing than in what I was selling. Maybe I should start a side business, a 976 number where you can sexually harass a marketer for ninety-nine cents a minute, I thought to myself. It would have meant a raise.

  I glanced up in time to see my supervisor Jeff strutting by.

  "What's up Stewart, you taking a coffee break? Come on, time is money," he said and continued on to torment the other junior brokers.

  I graduated at the top of my class… and this is what it got me.

  At the eight-hour mark I headed home. Some of the juniors would stay on, cold calling during the dreaded "dinner hours" when customers were at their most resentful. I just didn't have it in me tonight.

  I stepped out of the building and walked through the now empty financial district. It always amazed me how quickly Wall Street went from a swarming beehive in the morning to post-apocalyptic after six o'clock. Most of the boy's club had adjourned to the districts bars where they'd boast about their deal-making prowess and do bumps of coke in the men's room. Did you know most insider trading is just cocaine induced babbling by brokers? Sad but true.

  I was coming up on the Fulton Street station when I spied a limousine cruising behind me. My first guess was a couple of drunken brokers out heckling women. The perfect end to a perfect day. The limo pulled ahead of me and stopped. The driver climbed out and stood waiting as I approached.

  "Ms. Stewart?" He asked politely.

  I took a moment to appraise the situation. There are two kinds of limo drivers. There are the frumpy rental limo guys struggling to appear classy in cheap ill-fitting suits. They usually have an accent from either Eastern Europe or the depths of Queens. This was the other kind, pressed, well-tailored and immaculate, someone who worked for only one discerning client. This guy stood straight and tall like a US Marine, which he probably had been at some point in the not too distant past.

  "Yes I'm Rebecca Stewart. Can I help you?"

  "My employer asked me to pick you up. He would like a meeting with you."

  "And who is your employer?"

  "Mr. Peter Drake, I believe you’re familiar with him."

  "Peter Drake?" I replied in disbelief. Drake was probably the most successful businessman in America. He'd made billions, primarily as a "corporate raider", buying up businesses and then gutting them for their assets. Drake had diversified into electronics, aerospace and a myriad of other high-risk sectors, always earning a profit where others failed. I had written my college thesis about Drake, exploring the psychology that drove him to success. It was equal parts clinical analysis and schoolgirl crush. "Why would Peter Drake want to meet with me?"

  The driver reached into his jacket and handed me a bound document. I stared at it for a moment in disbelief… it was my college thesis.

  Without another word the driver opened the door and politely gestured for me to climb in.

  CHAPTER TWO: THE OFFER

  Twenty minutes later we arrived at Drake International's headquarters, a fifty story building on the Brooklyn side of the bridge. Some claimed Drake chose the location to take advantage of the burgeoning Brooklyn real estate market. Others say he just liked the view of Manhattan.

  The driver escorted me through the still bustling lobby. Drake's various enterprises didn't keep to any traditional schedule.

  We walked to a private elevator. The driver entered a key-code and stepped back.

  "This will take you directly to Mr. Drake's private offices. I'll be waiting down here to drive you home."

  My mind raced as I rode up to the fiftieth floor. Drake's private offices were legendary… in that so few had ever seen them. I've heard rumors that even heads of state were denied access.

  The door opened, and I stepped into Drake's private domain. I'm not an art lover, but I instantly recognized works by Dali and Picasso decorating the foyer. Handmade bookshelves lined the walls. I studied the shelves as I
passed, surprised to find priceless first editions alongside battered Raymond Chandler paperbacks. Obviously Mr. Drake's books weren't just window dressing.

  The view through the full-length windows was stunning, showcasing the priceless beauty of the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset. Beyond it lay Manhattan in all its glory. I wondered how often Drake stood here looking out… master of all he surveyed.

  "Weaker men meditate on the complexities of terms like moral, ethical and legal. But the true conqueror whether in business or government does not allow these terms to impede his actions. To him these are issues to be sorted out later."

  I turned; shocked to hear my own words being quoted. Peter Drake stood fifteen feet away, hands folded behind his back, his blue eyes studying me.

  "Your own words I believe?" He added, "I hope I didn't misquote them."

  "No," I replied, trying to sound calm, "I think you got it exactly right, actually."

  "Very insightful for such a young woman," He said, approaching me, "And quite unfashionable in the politically correct world of academia. Most people frown on my tactics, but you understand and embrace them."

  Up close his eyes were even more clear and penetrating. There were flecks of gray creeping into his tousled brown hair, but from his strong features it would be impossible to guess his exact age. His suit was immaculate, carefully tailored to his lean body.

  "Sadly I haven't had the chance to act on them given my job," I said. I instantly regretted mentioning my mere peasant status.