Nymph (A Paranormal Romance Trilogy, #1)

by Alexis Shore

  Nymph

  A Paranormal Romance Trilogy, Volume 1

  Alexis Shore

  Published by Alexis Shore, 2014.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  NYMPH

  First edition. December 6, 2014.

  Copyright © 2014 Alexis Shore.

  Written by Alexis Shore.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Afterword

  Also By Alexis Shore

  One

  “What’s your name?”

  “Joe,” he replied with a nervous swallow.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small box of condoms, tossing them idly onto the dashboard and sliding a little closer to him. He was nervous, and she didn’t have time to put him at ease.

  “What’s yours?” he asked, his voice croaking.

  Chloe didn’t want to answer that, and so she stroked her hand up the inside of his thigh, making sure that she tickled her thumb against the trapped swell of his balls.

  Even in the dark, she could see he was starting to warm up down there.

  He leaned over, with a deep breath, and tried to kiss her. She baulked, and pulled his head to the nook of her neck instead.

  No kissing, not this time, she was determined.

  Chloe was a little irked that he’d clearly lied about his experience at this on his app profile. This was obviously the first time he’d used HookedUp, and obviously the first time he’d met a total stranger for sex.

  It wasn’t hers, and she had been hoping for something less timid.

  But it would have to do.

  Beggars couldn’t be choosers in this environment.

  She looked out of the windshield, the orange night lights of Los Angeles twinkling against the glass. Out there someone was stalking, and it had made hooking up that much harder.

  And that much more exciting.

  His tongue swept inexpertly up her neck, and she moaned encouragement as his lips sucked on her little earlobe. Her blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail, and she had no make up on. She never did. Her face was striking enough without it. Her cheeks were sharp, her eyes bright blue and piercing, and her lips plump and moist.

  He started to plant little kisses on her face, working his way to her mouth, and she didn’t want that. But her body was starting to respond to him, her nipples poking hard through her shirt now, her breasts felt trapped in the tight confines of her bra, and her clit was beginning to make itself known too.

  And when she slid her hand back down to his lap, she found his body was responding too. She pushed her palm against the solid swell of his cock, rubbing at him through his pants, feeling the heat of his erection.

  She licked her lips.

  Her fingers curled under and found the shape of his swollen balls, squeezing them in a gentle massage, just as he pushed his face back into the base of her neck, biting into the flesh and making her sigh.

  It was a sigh tinged with both arousal and annoyance.

  She’d wanted this to go so much faster, so much more bestial and animalistic; but his timidity was making it slow and sensual. Nothing wrong with that, but she only had so much time.

  Chloe had done this enough to know how to swing things to the way she wanted. Almost every other night she was on the app making a date, and almost every other night, she ended up in a clinch like this, either in a car, behind a bar, or in a park somewhere.

  It was her dirty little secret, and it made her feel dirty.

  And that was the point. She’d long since given up pretending it was bad for her, because whenever she did try and give it up, she just got depressed and ended up diving back in head first. Those were the times when she met two guys in one night, sometimes at the same time. Always after paying too much solo attention to her little butterfly.

  As he sucked into her neck, and she let her mind forget everything and just focus on the moment, she began to unfasten the buttons of her blouse, revealing the bright red lacy bra beneath. When he realised what she was doing, his hands slipped under the cotton and grabbed at her tits, massaging them roughly, with an eagerness that got her more wet, his thumbs pushing into her swollen nipples through the lace, forcing them back into the soft flesh of her voluptuous tits.

  Chloe cupped the back of his head and urged his face down to them, feeling his mouth between them now, as he shared his attention from one to the other, sucking hard on her cleavage as he pinched at her nipples.

  She swore quietly, and tugged up the cups, releasing her tits from their entrapment, and he immediately and eagerly sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth.

  “Ahh, good boy,” she said, breathless.

  As he feasted on her swollen nipples, one at a time, hungry and passionate, she began to yank open the fly of her jeans, wriggling the denim down her hips until they were bunched below her knees. Her red panties seemed so bright in the darkness of the car, and she knew they would be soaked with her arousal.

  And she didn’t wait for him to find out. His teeth nipped at her left nipple, and she fingered at her clit through the damp cotton, loving the way her body was responding to the attention.

  She felt like a cheap whore, letting some guy use her like this after only twenty minutes of exchanging messages on their smartphones. It was so damn horny.

  His hand pushed hers aside, snaking into the panties and finding her clit directly, flicking and fumbling at it inexpertly, but it still felt good. She couldn’t even remember his name now, and here he was, strumming her button and getting her so wet and ready for his cock.

  She found that cock, pushing the denim of his jeans around its shape, feeling its size and heat, as he sucked as much of her right breast into his wet mouth as he could. Then he let it go with a loud slurp, and she started to wank the shape of his cock slowly.

  His fingers pushed past her swollen wet lips, and she gasped as he penetrated her with an ease that made her feel even more wanton. He started to fuck her with those fingers, hard, loud, and fast.

  Her head thumped back into the head rest, and she turned to look out of the passenger window, seeing a face peering back at her. It baulked and moved back into the shadows, leaving only her reflection staring back at her, eyes heavy with arousal, mouth open and jutting as she moaned against his fingers.

  She took a deep breath and looked out of each window, seeing at least half a dozen prying sets of eyes watching them go at it.

  It’s why she’d chosen this place to meet.

  An audience.

  And it made her so damn wet that she started to push back onto his fingers, fucking them back now, feeling the knuckle of his thumb on her hooded clit. She was close, and she told him so, looking right into the face a woman leering in from the driver’s side window.

  Chloe wanted to fling open the doors and ask them all in to fuck her, to wank themselves over her, to finger and suck and probe and bite her body.

  But she didn’t have time.

  The thought though was enough to break the dam, and her body stiffened as the waves of her orgasm burst through her, gasping and swearing, holding his wrist still until the moment was gone. She pulled him out of her with a shiver and bought his wet fingers to her mouth, sucking them and tasting herself on his skin.

  And it made her want something else in her mouth.

  “Take it out,” she said with husky breathlessness.

  Thankfully, he didn’t need telling twice.

  As he tore open his
fly and pulled his jeans down, she did the same to her panties, pushing them down to join the rest of her clothes in the foot well now. She wanted to be naked for this, unfastening the bra as she spoke.

  “Show me how hard I make you.”

  “I’m so fucking hard,” he gasped as he sat back, naked, gripping his swollen cock in one hand, squeezing the base hard so the rest of it got bigger. At least he hadn’t lied about its size. She’d wanted something huge inside of her for days.

  “Good boy,” she hissed, and ducked her head to his lap, sliding down its length with a wet hunger, sucking hard, feeling it fill her fully as she found her clit and resumed its strumming.

  His hands cupped her head, and she moaned hard, letting him feel it through his massive shaft, wanting him to urge her deeper. But he didn’t, he just let her go at her own pace, and that’s not what she wanted.

  Fuck it.

  She pushed two fingers inside her wet pussy and urged herself deeper on down, gagging slightly as she got so close to his balls, before letting him out with a loud, wet gasp.

  Chloe had waited too long, and wanted to fuck it now.

  So, she swung her legs over his lap, the steering wheel pressing into her naked back, all eyes on her now, and grabbed his head, pulling his face to her nipple, as she gyrated against his prick, massaging her wet lips around its shape, wanting him inside so badly.

  When he bit that nipple, she couldn’t wait any longer, and she pushed herself all the way down his length.

  The noise she made was so deep, so guttural, so aroused, that his nails dug into her buttocks and he moaned through her nipple.

  He was so hot inside her, so big, so amazing, she lost all thought of the box of condoms on the dash behind them. Now she just wanted to ride it and feel it twitching inside her.

  And so she did.

  Her hips worked hard and fast, pulling his face between her tits, making the car rock on its springs, plunging up and down his massive cock, loving every inch of it so hard and swollen inside of her.

  He wasn’t going to last much longer, she knew it, and she didn’t care.

  It swelled inside her, and his whole body stiffened. She begged him to do it, and he did, that twitch within making her swear with wonder, but not come, even as his hot cream filled her up.

  The moment she’d milked every last drop of him, she pulled herself off with a wondrous shiver, and fumbled her clothes back on, not even bothering with her underwear, leaving it for him as a thank you. She hadn’t even done up her blouse as she kicked open the door and climbed out.

  Bodies were disappearing into the woods, fleeing as she crunched along the gravel, bunching her blouse even as the cold LA night air tickled at her deeply aroused nipples.

  As hooks up go, that one had been pretty good; at least better than it had promised when it first began.

  Chloe found the tree she had stashed her bag behind, and was pleased to see it still sitting in the dark shadow of its ageing and gnarled trunk. A long gulp of her bottled water and then she started to strip naked, loving the chill against her still red hot skin.

  She knew she was late already, even as she pulled on her belt, feeling the weight of her gun and radio on her hips. She loved going to work wet and without underwear, and she smiled as she pinned the shield across her heart.

  The black cop’s uniform was a little too small for her swollen tits, and she knew her aching nipples were poking hard through it. Hopefully they would have calmed down by the time anyone saw her.

  She tossed her bag over her shoulder and took the walk down the hill, finding the cruiser where they’d parked it. She popped the trunk and tossed her bag in, before wandering into the diner.

  Her partner, Patrick, sat on his usual stall, mopping his chin with a napkin, the remnants of his burrito in tatters before him.

  She climbed onto the stool beside him and put her elbows on the counter.

  “Everything sorted?” he asked, referring to the lie she had used to excuse herself from their night time lunch break.

  She shrugged, feeling the come inside her.

  “Been another,” he said, gesturing with his chin to the tiny TV up in the corner.

  The ticker crawled along the bottom of the screen, announcing the name of a new victim in the Southland Slayings.

  “Can I get a Coke?” she said.

  Two

  Hunter lurked.

  It’s what he did, always in the shadows, somewhere in the background, watching, waiting, ready to move.

  The moon hung in the sky, a full silver disc, like an old fashioned coin, hanging in a sky tainted orange by the night lights of Los Angeles. A single wispy cloud passed across its face, and deep within the line of trees, Hunter knew now was the time.

  He hunched down and scooped up a handful of dry mud, letting it fall between his fingers, piling onto a dried leaf at his feet.

  There was the faint but familiar odour clinging to the air, tickling at his honed nostrils, telling him everything he needed to know.

  The hunt was on.

  And Hunter took his time, letting his body adjust to the idea that it would be needed soon. His muscles flexed, his blood coarsed, his lungs heaved harder, grabbing as much oxygen as they could in preparation for the oncoming exertion.

  He pulled his hood over his head, staring out from the new darkness with piercing brown eyes that saw everything with a clarity most people wouldn’t recognise.

  And when he stood up, he towered high, half a foot about six feet, his body so taut and toned that he was all muscle and sinew, no fat, no waste. He was a hunting machine.

  He slipped his hand into the deep pocket of his hoodie and let his fingers caress the weapon, feeling its shape and size, familiarising himself with it for when it would be needed.

  A breeze danced across his body, and he sniffed at it, getting a better idea of where he needed to be. The smell was coming from upwind, and so he moved with a practiced stealth through the brush, and alighted behind the thick trunk of a giant tree, peering around it, and seeing his prey.

  A car was parked up, and within, he saw a blond woman and a young guy with a crew cut. One looked nervous, the other looked like she was in a hurry.

  Hunter watched.

  The couple was becoming more and more amorous, getting hot and heavy in short time, and as they did, he saw people emerging from the woods. Half a dozen bodies, staggering out like zombies, stumbling towards the car as the windows steamed up and the springs started to rock. They gathered, pressing their faces to the glass, peering in, an orgy of voyeuristic pleasure. Some started to fumble with themselves as they took in the show, and the stench of it all grew thicker in Hunter’s nostrils.

  The noise from within the car grew louder, as she bucked and writhed on the man’s lap, screaming and swearing, telling her audience just how it felt as she fucked for them.

  One of the onlookers suddenly stepped back and wandered away, fastening his fly as he walked. Hunter watched him go, watched him step back into the woods and hover behind a tree, catching his breath, swigging from a hip flask as his chest heaved and his skin cooled.

  Back over at the car, things seemed to be reaching a climax, a crescendo of loud, hard sex. And just after its peak, the bodies around the car began to disperse, some heading back into the woods, others moving silently down the road to their own cars. No one spoke, no one shared their thoughts about the sordid experience, they just skulked off in silence.

  And Hunter watched them.

  Then the car door opened, and the woman climbed out, still half naked, her breasts exposed to the chill of the night air for a moment, before she clutched her shirt over them and moved away at a steady trot.

  Hunter mirrored her movement in the trees, matching her step for step, keeping her in his sights at all times. A few yards further and she too stepped into the trees, coming close to him, but not seeing him, not even aware of his presence.

  He fingered the weapon in his pocket.

  She
took a drink from a bottle, and then retrieved clothes from a bag hidden behind a trunk.

  He watched as she slipped into the familiar uniform of the LAPD, pinning her shield back over her heart and plumping her swollen breasts, her nipples still huge and hard beneath her black shirt.

  The smell of it all still clung to Hunter’s nostrils, even with this unexpected turn of events. He hadn’t expected her to be a cop.

  It didn’t change much, he’d just have to be more careful than ever.

  The woman stepped back out onto the road, moving more deliberately now, her poise different, changed by the uniform, and the weight of the gun and radio at her hips. He watched her ass moving under her pants, watched her walking down the hill.

  It would soon be time.

  A movement on the other side of the road marked the moment.

  It was a blur, so fast and so silent that Hunter barely had time to react. The shape moved rapidly, heading straight for the woman.

  Hunter burst from his hiding place.

  Their bodies met in a bone crunching collision, Hunter’s shoulder slamming hard into the side of the other man, lifting him from his feet and carrying him back into the woods.

  The woman moved on, unaware.

  Hunter smacked the other man into a tree, hearing the air wheeze from his lungs. He had the upper hand for now, but the other man’s strength, guile, and speed would soon turn the tables, he knew it.

  He lunged for the weapon in his pocket, annoyed he hadn’t grabbed it sooner, had it ready. He’d been distracted by her ass.

  As he fumbled, he lost momentum, and the other man chopped hard down on either side of Hunter’s neck. The pain made him recoil, staggering back a few paces, and he used the cover to wrap his fingers around the weapon and pull it free.

  But the speed of the other man surprised him; this one was strong and fast.

  He piled forward, head first, smacking his skull hard into Hunter’s jaw.

  Everything went white, and a high pitched noise filled his ears. Every time he moved, there was nothing but white blur, the shrill tinnitus starting to pierce his ears painfully.