Shifter’s Baby (Alpha Fantasy Paranormal Billionaire Shifter BBW Romance) (80 page)

Chapter Seven

Heat started in her secret garden and flamed up her body. It turned her breasts into deep read smoldering mounds of flesh. Her nipples grew into small, red cones. The flames came up on her neck. She felt heat surrounding her, engulfing her.

Suddenly, she felt herself being taken away. Her identity as a single woman was fleeing her body. She couldn't get it back. When she found it had left her, she was panicky. She had no identity, no personality.

A new Helene stormed into her soul. It was composed of Alain and Helene, no more single people, but two, joined together in an eternal bond.

Her orgasm overwhelmed her. Her legs shot straight out, stiff as boards. Her feet curled downward. She twitched and made unintelligible sounds. The muscles in her belly and back contracted at the same time. She couldn't breathe.

After a lifetime, she began to come back to earth. Another orgasm surprised her, making her gasp and moan. She shook again like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

Her body relaxed. She realized that Alain was still hard inside her. His face was tense, stressed with the effort of making her happy. She kissed him softly. "You now, Alain. It's your time."

Alain moved with speed. He lifted Helene and himself in one strong move and stood up. Her turned around and placed her on the chair on her back. She was calm and happy while he moved her. She liked having a strong husband. She watched him pump inside her for a few moments. He drove himself into her with ferocity. Her belly and legs rippled with the force of his lunge. She never lost her smile. As he delivered his important semen, she smoothed the hair on his forehead and kissed him.

He collapsed on her when he finished. She pushed and he fell on the floor on his back. She moved quickly to get his softening erection back inside her. She wanted to rest on him while they were still attached.

She laid her head on his chest. Her legs on either side and her arms circled around his neck. She decided she liked the new Helene, except she was now, Helene and Alain. One person out of two.

Chapter Eight

Le Diable walked along the road leading into town. He spotted someone coming toward him. A young girl, no older than twelve or thirteen. He didn't care that the girl was named Giselle and was loved by her family and was going to graduate from a school for girls in a month. She was simply his for the taking.

He felt the mammoth knife he'd taken from an American. The American didn't want to give it to him, but he was dead so it didn't matter. It would work quite nicely to dismember the girl. A rape would have been nice as a dessert, but he had no time.

He waited until he came near her. He smiled. "Good evening. Mademoiselle. It is a pleasant evening."

Giselle said, "Yes. It is." She tried to get past him. He blocked her path. She yelled, "Papa! Help!" The sound was deafening. Le Diable couldn't believe something human could make a sound so loud. A house not seventy-five meters away suddenly lit up like the royal opera. Doors slammed against the house as they were opened violently, and men appeared in each one.

Giselle did it again, "Papa! Help!"

Le Diable ran the other way until he was out of sight of anyone in that screeching girl’s family.

It took him an hour, standing in the ruins of a medieval church to calm down. He said to himself, "I don't need these emotions. I can't afford them." He walked to town where he hired a car and drove to a small town on the outskirts of Paris where Veronique Valon, the wife of the minister was staying.

He may have calmed down but his patience hadn't returned. As he approached the house, he saw that Madame Valon and her sister and mother were returning to their house. Unfortunately for them, they were standing by the garage, a building away from the main house and out of sight of the policemen dotting the landscape. The women were dressed in evening attire. The gowns of the women dipped very low at the neckline. Their breasts curved up over the top of the fabric. That drove Le Diable mad.

He saw the police stationed around the back of the house. One scream from any of the women, and he was caught.

He drove close to them, stepped out, took out a long knife and threw it, with commendable accuracy into the chest of the butler who was standing by their car. He stepped close to the women and pulled another long knife. He pointed to the youngest woman. "Who is Madame Volan? Answer or she dies."

A handsome, tall woman with beautiful shoulders said, "I am Veronique Volan. You don't need to kill her."

"Will you come with me willingly?"

"Yes."

"Good. You drive." He said to the remaining women, "Tell Henri Valon that I have his wife. He is to give the concession to Ameri/Iraqi Oil. As soon as he does, I will set Madame Volan free. He need only make an announcement to the press. I will hear it. Until then she will be on her back with me between her legs. Is that understood?" He waited until the two remaining women nodded.

He sat in the back seat while Madame Valon took the wheel. Once they were out of earshot of the police, Le Diable drew his pistol. He directed her to a main highway. "Drive for thirty miles, straight ahead. Drive very fast. If the cops catch us, I will put a bullet in each of your four limbs.”

Madame Valon said, "Are you Le Diable?"

He said, "Yes, I am."

"Then I will not survive this evening."

Le Diable looked smug and satisfied.

She looked at him in the rear view mirror. She’d never told her husband, but she considered murderers as less than human. She never felt guilt or sorrow if she was able to kill them. She thought, "At least one of us won't."

Chapter Nine

At that moment, Girard got word from the laboratory. The substance that killed the groom was a distillation of the venom from the deadly blue krait, a snake native to Indonesia. A quick check of travelers from Indonesia showed two men who had been arrested in a rural part of France, southwest of Massy, attempting to burgle a sweet shop. When the police searched the men, they found a vial of thick, yellow, paste that was identified as an extremely fast acting poison when injected into the body.

The men suddenly remembered information about Le Diable when the cops told them they would be charged with the murders of the bride and groom. The men said, they’d met with Le Diable at a small restaurant in Chaville, a nearby town.

Girard and Fournier traveled by fast automobile toward the little town. Girard began to think and talk. Fournier took notes.

Girard said, "Where would I live if I were a mass murderer. Everyone, even a man who kills in quantity, needs a place to relax. He needs to tune up his garrote, sharpen his axe, and clean his semi-automatic pistol. He's not going to be social. He hates other people. We're looking for a single house set out in the middle of rural fields with no neighbors and little traffic. Look at the map. Find me a murderer’s house."

Chapter Ten

Le Diable didn't know that Veronique Valon wasn't helpless in the face of a criminal or without resources. She was the daughter, the granddaughter, the niece and the aunt of policemen. He didn't know that she'd served with her husband in Algiers, that she'd fought alongside her husband when bands of roving bandits attacked their compound. She'd killed five men, one with a knife. She sent a silent apology to her husband. She knew she'd have to use her body to defeat this master criminal, this defiler of women and murderer of men.

She glanced at the man in the back seat again. Her mind rejoiced. “I shall lead him carefully into position. I will control him like an puppeteer with a marionette.” She forced herself to be calm. “I must remember not to smile. I am to be terrified.”

Le Diable directed her to drive to a small house in a field. the land all around the house was empty of human habitation. The little house sat in complete isolation. The perfect place for a mass murderer to live.

Le Diable grabbed the back of her dress as she approached the door and held her. "This is my home. Very few people see it. No woman has ever seen it. You will go inside and take off your clothes. No tricks or I will kill you very slowly, and you will be conscious for all of it."

They walked into a bare room. Bars closed off the windows. Blinds kept anyone from looking inside. The only piece of furniture was a bed with a freshly laundered sheet and nothing else. She started taking off her clothes right next to the bed.

Veronique went over her inventory. The room held nothing unless she discovered something she hadn't seen yet. It offered no hope. He finger touched a long, thin piece of metal in a pocket in her dress, and her heart leaped in her chest. It hid very nicely in the palm of her hand. She set it down on her dress, already on the floor and folded the dress to hide it. It would work, but it required delicacy.

She glanced over her shoulder. She thought, “I must take control of the situation from that animal. I must do it in such a way that he doesn’t know it. Should I incapacitate this man with verbal abuse or lull him into carelessness. The second surely.” That meant she had to appear weak, helpless and terrified. She would have to do everything he asked. He would keep her alive longer if she did. She'd have to lead him slowly into the situation she had in mind.

She felt a shove in the back. She gave a shriek of surprise and terror as she fell onto the bed. He flipped her over on her back. She thought, "I need to set him up early." She made her voice tremble. "Oh no. Don't rape me. Not this way. My husband always takes me this way. You don't have the right to do it."

He acted just as she wanted. He yelled, "Fuck your husband. You'll have me now and like it." His hands dove between her legs and under her hips. She felt the hands start to spread her legs. She tried to keep them closed with just enough force to lure Le Diable into overpowering her. He lifted her up until her hips were a foot off the bed, and her legs spread out on either side. He said, "Shall we see what you taste like? I'll bet your husband never does this."

Veronique covered her pussy with her hands. "No. Don't kiss me there. Only fallen women do that. Don't."

Le Diable dropped her hips and captured her hands. He turned them around and slid them under her butt. He lifted her up again. She was in the same position as before except that her butt rested on her own hands.

She looked like a small hill. Her shoulders and head rested on the bed. her hips rose a foot off the bed and her legs trailed down off the sides of the bed. Her secret garden towered open and exposed for anyone to see.

Le Diable pushed his face into her widened womanhood. Fear and excitement brought out lubrication inside her tunnel. She felt his tongue and lips find parts of her that her husband tended to and no one else. She wondered about responding to his touch and decided that any enjoyment from her would turn him off and that he would kill her immediately. She needed to give him the idea that he was arousing her, but that she found it repugnant. She said, "Oh. Don't do that. It feels odd. It isn't natural. Stop it. Stop it now."

She jerked her hand out of his grip and pushed his head. She was gratified to hear him laugh. She thought, "Good. Now for a slight reward." She allowed herself to respond just a little. She made her hips hunch up into his face. She told him. "No. Don't do that. It's doing something nasty to me. I don't want it. It feels strange."

He laughed again. She looked at his face. It was covered with her fluid. She wanted to get him up closer to her face. She moaned, "I hate what you're doing to me. This isn't happening. Not to me. I'm a good woman." She pushed his head again. "Don't come up here. I know you want to kiss me with your wet face. I won't let you."

He climbed on the bed and moved up her body. He paused at her breasts, taking one in his mouth and biting it hard. She screamed as loud as she could and looked at him with only partly manufactured terror. He grinned and kissed her. He rubbed his face all over her mouth. He wanted her to taste her own juices. She grimaced and sputtered. He laughed again.

She didn't have to dread the next part for very long. She knew it was coming and needed it to happen for her plan to work. She looked down her body at his erect cock aimed directly at the entrance to her hips. She screamed, “No! Please! Not that. Spare me from rape.” She covered her face with her hands and rocked her shoulders back and forth.

She spread her fingers until she could see if her gambit worked. It should make him ram his cock into her which would slid her up the bed toward her tool, now sitting on the floor by the head of the bed. She thought, “Why has this imbecile had so much success? He’s as easy to lead as a two year old.”

She held up her hands in mock pleading. “Wait, Wait. Let me make a request.” She sputtered a little and looked confused.

He gloried in her apparent submission. He said, “Of course, make your requests.”

“Two requests. First, don’t turn me over. That’s how prostitutes do this and I’m not a prostitute. Second, don’t spend deep inside me. That’s for my husband only. I'll take you in my mouth or let you rub your erection between my breasts. You can shoot your semen in my face of on my breasts. I like that." She paused. She had to sell the next part. She made her voice break and put a bit of a sob in it. "Just don't. Whatever else you do, just don't take me from behind. I hate that. I feel like a prostitute. I'll do anything you want as long as I'm facing you on my back. Will you do that?"

He responded with all of the independence of a trained dog. He flipped her over on her belly. She beat her hands on the sheet and wailed, "No. You can't do that. I won't let you. Please, not like this.”

Helene dreaded having this monster inside her body. She gathered herself and tensed. She knew he’d lunge at her. She’d made him angry and stoked his arrogance. He wouldn’t try the soft approach. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the bed.

Nothing happened. She lost her patience and screeched a high piercing scream. He wanted him to cut the sound off quickly and made his move.

She felt the important vibrations in the bed early. Le Diable shifted back a bit in preparation for the lunge that would take Helene. She lifted herself in the air. His back and butt hit her before his cock could penetrate. She used the force of his lunge to propel herself across the bed.

She thought, “I bet the imbecile tries the same thing again”. He did. His ego told him that the woman beneath him was frightened so much of him that she was incapable of independent thought. Once more, he lunged and she threw herself forward.

It was enough. She made a desperate lunge and got her arm over the side of the bed. She pulled hard until she could reach her clothes and her only weapon. Her fingers just barely lifted it up into her hand before he pulled her back.

She told herself, “Now” and twisted around so she could reach him. In her right hand, she held a hatpin. Not an ordinary sewing pin, but the six-inch long, sharper than a rattlesnake's tooth implement of death her grandmother used to keep her bonnet from blowing away. Veronique had found it at the play. One of the actresses must have dropped it. She’d put it in her pocket, carefully keeping the point away from her fingers. Now, it rested in her right hand, the half inch wide base hard against the heel of her hand and the tip held between her fingertips.

She struck without warning. She aimed it at Le Diable left eye, saw it go in and rammed it home with the base of her hand. The broad base of the pin smashed against his eye, covering it.

Le Diable looked puzzled. He said, "What was..." and collapsed. She struggled out from under him just as Girard broke the front door down.

Girard rushed to her side and moved Le Diable’s body off Madame Volan. She slid off the bed and stood with rare dignity. She didn’t cover herself or crouch.

Girard approached her and put his hand on her bare arm. He looked directly in her eyes. “Are you alright, Madame? May I do anything to help you?”

“I’m fine. I’ll get dressed, and we can go back to town. My husband will be happy to know our family is no longer in danger.”

She didn’t ask for it, but Girard twirled his finger in the air and he, Fournier and the two constables turned their backs.