Shifter’s Baby (Alpha Fantasy Paranormal Billionaire Shifter BBW Romance) (78 page)

Chapter Nine

That night, Reynard and Emily settled down on the couch to watch a silly television program. She kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re not a criminal.”

“My dear, I’m glad you added that magnificent gun to your ensemble.”

She turned to her side, facing him and moved her leg between his. She snuggled into his chest. She found the TV remote and turned it off. “What shall we do now?”

“Now that the police interviews are in the past, now that Alain and the newly calm Mignon have gone to their own bed, now that we are alone on a soft couch with only a few articles of clothing between us? I have no idea. What do you suggest?”

“Did Alain tell you that he and Mignon are getting married?”

“Yes. His tactic of pushing past her fears worked very well.” He bent over and kissed her. “Shall I do that with you?”

“It seems a waste of energy. If you love me, you can have me right now, with my cooperation.”

He paused. “Yes. I haven’t said the words. I love you.” He kissed her. “Do you not want the marriage vows first? It would make you more secure in your future.”

She slid on top of him. She sat on his legs with her legs outside of his. She took off her blouse.

Emily said, “This is ruined. I hadn’t looked at it before.”

Outside their mansion, Manuel Aliva crept through the bushes. He’d looked forward to a significant payday after the aborted trip to the Caribbean. He resented the loss and the loss of his boss who, he knew, was giving him up to the police. He needed someone to kill to relieve his frustration. He crept to a ground floor window. He saw the woman sitting on the man’s lap with her blouse off. He was a big fan of men’s magazines. The woman had the figure he liked; full and smooth and with the kind of curves that made his palms itch. He took out a big gun and attached a silencer to the end of the barrel.

Emily held up her blouse. She poked a finger through the hole. Besides the hole, the fabric showed powder burns and smelled of gun smoke. She said, “It had to be one of my best.”

She glanced down at Reynard to find him with his hands raised. “I surrender. You may do what you will to my body, but you will never get my heart.” He looked at the pistol in her holster.

Emily unhooked and unwrapped the holster from around her rib cage and set it aside. She put his hands on her perfect, generous breasts and held them there. She said, with knowing complacency, “Reynard, I have weapons that make that gun look like a cap pistol.”

Reynard nodded. “I know. I hold two of them now.” He gave the soft mounds held captive in his hands a squeeze. He was too impressed to make jokes. “Would you remove you brassiere, please. I want to hold you without anything between my hands and your skin.”

He surprised her. While she was unhooking her bra, he slid his hands under her skirt and up her legs. Her eyes went wide and she gasped. “I love it when you touch my bare skin. That feels so good.”

He caressed her legs and looked at her breasts. He told her, “I’m going to ask you to marry me tomorrow. Will you say ‘yes’?”

She put her hands behind his head and leaned forward to let him kiss her breasts. “Why don’t you ask me now?”

In between little kisses and small sucking movements, he said, “Because we will have daughters. They will ask you how I proposed. Was I romantic? Did I make it special, bring you flowers and dance with you? I don’t want you to have to tell them that we had just captured a criminal and decided to make love on the couch in front of the television set on which was running a regrettable episode of Gilligan’s Island. You must have a proper tale to tell them. I want my daughters to think of me as a sensitive man.”

He stopped talking and worked hard on her left nipple. She groaned. He ran his hand down her tummy inside her panties until he held her fragrant garden. He slid one finger inside her sheath and pressed the back of his thumb against her little button. She threw her head back and groaned louder. She managed to say, “Don’t forget.”

He said, “I won’t” as he tilted her over on her back on the couch. He took his hands and her panties out from under her skirt. He stood up and started taking off his clothes. He stopped to flip her skirt up to her waist. “You are so beautiful.”

“Thank you. That means more to me than you know.” She rubbed her tummy and the inside of her thighs with her hands.

Manuel had a perfect view. His window looked into the room from below the couch. He could see between Emily’s legs. He had to move quickly. He would kill Reynard then quickly cover the woman with his pistol. He had to threaten her enough to make her keep silent. Then he could take her as he wished.

Emily saw Reynard’s erection and sat up. “You’re wonderful. So big. Come over here. Your magnificent cock needs my attention.” Reynard stood between her knees while she took him in her mouth and sucked. She added her hands along the shaft of his cock.

Reynard gave her a gentle push on the forehead. She leaned against the back of the couch and pulled her knees up to her shoulders. She said, “Turn about is fair play. I need to be kissed.”

Reynard dropped to his knees and buried his nose in her private garden. She was as wet as a swamp. Her aroma drifted up to Reynard, went through his nose and into his soul.

He spent time stimulating the expressive, intricate tissues in her pussy. She moaned and her hips bucked against him. She dropped flat on the couch and opened her legs. Reynard moved between them and lowered himself.

Manuel nodded to himself. He whispered, “Now.”

Another voice, a feminine voice, whispered, “No. Not now. Not ever.” Manuel felt the steel of a gun barrel press against his head. A woman’s arm slid down his and took the gun out of his hand. He felt a hand on his collar pulling him away from the window. The voice said, “No noise. Let the lovebirds have their privacy. They deserve it.”

Reynard put the head of his cock into the entrance of Emily’s sheath and pushed. She was wide and wet, and it took little effort to penetrate completely.

They rested for a moment. Reynard said, “May I ask you a personal question?”

Emily blushed. “You couldn’t be more personal with me that you are right now. Go ahead.”

“When was your last monthly cycle?”

“It ended two weeks ago. Yes. I am fertile. I know you aren’t wearing a condom.” She kissed him. “I would love to have your baby, even if we start it before we get married.”

“Good, because you feel wonderful inside.”

Reynard led her to her orgasm and waited while she humped and writhed and twisted. When she’d come out the other end, he said, “I will now put my semen inside you. Let us both hope for a child.”

Emily said, “Oh yes. That would be so wonderful. Go ahead.”

Reynard plunged and withdrew energetically for thirty seconds then pressed his hips against hers until he was completely buried inside her. He pumped his semen into her waiting sheath.

When he was done, he floated down on her. She felt his weight press her down into the couch gradually. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Welcome home, Reynard. Your family is glad to see you.”

The End

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Escape

By: Alice Hawkins


Copyright 2015 by (Alice Hawkins) - All rights reserved.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

Chapter One

It’s June, 1928, Paris, and a disease infects the drowsy streets and placid homes of France. A sociopath known only as Le Diable is murdering women with relentless efficiency. Truly, this man is without conscience or basic humanity. He was known to carry on a conversation with his victim as if in a cafe'. He always killed his victims unless interrupted.

Le Diable got there late. He’d stopped calling himself by his real name, Fred Bartholemew, because it sounded weak.

As he crept into the small hall outside the bridal suite, he allowed himself a twinge of guilt for taking the time to eat a croissant with cheese before carrying out his contract.

He snuck into the small enclosure that looked into the Bridal Suite in the Hotel Magnifique an hour later than he wanted. The bride and groom made love in a slow and tender manner. Le Diable didn’t understand it or want any part of it.

He took a small blowgun from his pocket and inserted a dart with a yellow substance on the tip into the blowgun. He waited until the groom dropped his head down beside her cheek. He sent the soundless dart into the side of the bride's neck. The effect was immediate. Her eyes became sightless. Her arms dropped to the bed, and her legs fell off her husbands back. The groom didn't notice. He continued his attentions to her now dead body.

Le Diable loaded the blowgun with another dart with a yellow substance on the tip. When the groom raised his head to kiss his new bride, he got a dart in the neck instead. He, also, was dead within three seconds.

Le Diable killed for money or fun. This was money.              The groom was the son of a well-know aristocrat and had disobeyed his father’s orders by marrying the wrong woman.

Chapter Two

Le Diable took an envelope which seemed far too thin to contain ten thousand francs from the shaking fingers of the groom’s father. It troubled him as he gave his apology. “I am devastated, Monsieur, I was held up in traffic and couldn’t get to them in time. You wanted both of them killed before the groom could make her his wife. I was unable to deliver on that promise.” He stopped talking and paid attention to the envelope in his hand.

He looked inside. "Monsieur, we agreed on cash. This is a cheque. It is unacceptable. It can be traced to me. It has my name on it."

"Sorry about that. The cheque is all I have. I may be able to raise the money by next week."

Le Diable bowed. "I will see you then." He turned to leave. As he walked away, he drew the blowgun out of his coat pocket and fitted it with a dart with a yellow substance on the tip. He turned, put the blowgun to his lips and three seconds later the unreliable employer was dead.

Le Diable went through the house and found family heirlooms worth half of his price. He considered it good enough

Ten minutes after he left his dead former employer, he sat across from a lawyer, John Stevenson, whom he considered a very dull American indeed. To his side, sat another lawyer, Yves Durrant, an equally dull Frenchman. Like all lawyers, they dealt in words not action. Le Diable considered them only a little less useless than a lamp with a whistle.

Le Diable would gladly have tied the two men with him to the bottom of the ocean which, as the joke goes, is a good start. They kept explaining the operation to him.

He lost his patience. "Stop. This constant repetition wears me out. I know the mission. Your company, Angli/Iraqi Oil wants to supply oil to French troops at an inflated price. The Minister of Finance, Henri Volan, has blocked the operation because it is too expensive. You want me to find a tool to move M. Volan from his current position to one which will allow you to fill your pockets. You have told me that M. Volan has three daughters and a wife. That would seem the place to start. Right now, I need ten thousand francs."

They put it on the table in front of him, in 100 franc notes tied together with twine. The twine had been made into a bow on top of the little bundle.             

Le Diable scooped it up and walked out.