Shooting Stars / Bound by Love

BOOK: Shooting Stars / Bound by Love
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SHOOTING STARS

An Ellora s Cave Publication, July 2004

Ellora s Cave Publishing, Inc.

PO Box 787

Hudson, OH 44236-0787

ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-976-2

Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

SHOOTING STARS 2004 BELLA ANDRE

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

Edited by
Raelene Gorlinsky.

Cover art by
Syneca
.

1

Shooting Stars

Bella Andre

2

Chapter One

San Francisco, present day

Christina looked down at the head between her spread thighs. No doubt about it, when it came to cunnilingus Jake was certainly proficient. He was the first guy she had been out with since moving to San Francisco last week, and after a couple weeks of celibacy she had really been looking forward to some hot sex. Sex was always on her to-do list, usually somewhere around number one.

She had planned her seduction well even though she hadn t known exactly whom she was going to seduce yet, giving plenty of thought to her outfit, makeup and scent. She had walked into the Holy Cow dance club in the South of Market district of San Francisco wearing tight black jeans, a skimpy white tank top sans bra, of course and bright red fuck-me heels. As soon as she entered the club, she could see that anyone with a penis immediately wanted her. Her working it outfit had never failed her yet. Christina barely hid her grin of triumph, pleased that she was going to have her pick of men to take home and fuck senseless.

Even though she really didn t know anyone in town yet, apart from the slightly snarky high school principal at her temporary substitute teacher gig and some mousy, boring women she d sat next to in the lunch room, she hadn t been nervous about heading out to the club alone. She wasn t the kind of woman who needed to have a big bunch of girlfriends with her all the time. On the contrary, Christina enjoyed her own company immensely. Unless she was feeling horny, of course, and wanted a hot, heavy penis between her legs.

And she had felt very horny tonight. So when she spotted the incredibly tall, dark and gorgeous man at the bar, she had immediately turned on the charm, asking him to dance, all the while pressing her breasts into his chest and shaking her hips provocatively. Thirty minutes later she was in Jake s bedroom, naked and spread beneath him.

But for some reason Christina just wasn t into it. Jake was a nice enough guy, but deep in her heart she knew he wasn t the one. It stunned her that she was thinking in terms of any guy being the one . She wasn t looking for someone to marry her, or even love. No, she was perfectly happy with her life the way things were. Unemotional yet hot fuck-fests were just what she liked.

She wasn t interested in broken hearts and declarations of love. She was only twenty-five for god s sake and had her whole life ahead of her to do all of that get-married-pump-out-the-kids-get-divorced bullshit.

She forced these depressing thoughts away and concentrated on the fact that Jake really was a master of oral sex. Blood rushed to her clit and the tips of her breasts stretched tight and hard.

Christina bit back a sigh, turning it at the last second into a groan of pleasure. Taking the sound as encouragement, Jake worked double time to please her. He sucked her swollen nub between his full lips and teased her cunt with his fingers, sliding them in and out in a rather pleasing rhythm.

His free hand moved up her abdomen to caress the plump underside of her breasts. He squeezed her nipple and a dose of creamy arousal poured onto his tongue. Christina shifted her hips closer to his mouth, pushing her pussy harder against his lips and teeth.

3

It really was too bad that she didn t feel more strongly about Jake, she thought, as she bucked her hips into his gifted hands and mouth. After all, he used just the right pressure on her clit, just the right amount of tongue as he lapped at her, and he even slipped his fingers into her cunt at exactly the right time.

Which was, she mused, precisely the problem. She didn t want a guy who did everything just right.

Christina had always dreamt of a man who would, without a word, press her against the wall, spread her legs and fuck her long and hard. He would ignore her cries of protest, refusing to be swayed by her tears. Big and rough, yet totally committed to her every sexual desire, he would pleasure them both with his ramrod huge cock. The prison scene with Mel Gibson and Sophie Marceau in
Braveheart
played vividly in her head. Her DVD copy was almost worn out from all the times she had watched it, dildo in hand.

Why
, she wondered silently as Jake s smooth cheek slid against her slick thighs,
can t modern men be more like the warriors of the past?

Holding Jake s head in her hands to keep his mouth steady on her clit, she stared up at the black night through the skylight above his bed. A shooting star raced across the sky.

On the verge of a powerful orgasm, her heart cried,
Take me to my warrior
.

Everything went black.

* * * * *

Scotland, 1320

Christiania trembled beside Marcus, Laird of the Gordon Clan. Proving a keen eye for even her slightest movement, his steely gaze met hers. The hardness in the man who was to be her husband sent a gasp from her lips. Christiania dropped her gaze to the floor, but not quickly enough to miss the irritated tic in his cheek.

Already she was proving to be a less than satisfactory wife. She hoped he would not beat her too hard. Or, perhaps, that she would at least pass out after the first several blows and be blessedly numb to the pain.

Earlier that morning as the sun had risen orange in the sky, the nuns had come for her. A white beaded gown was draped across their sturdy arms. The whitest white of the gown against the blackest black of their robes seemed to Christiania a dire prediction of the changes she would be facing as the wife of a Laird.

She would be the wife of a legendary warrior. Christiania shivered at the thought. Most women would have been thrilled to be a warrior s woman. She knew that with utter certainty and yet she was afraid. Afraid of her husband to be. Afraid of the life she would now be expected to lead. Afraid of everything, really.

A thick, jeweled band would be slipped onto her finger and she would have to leave the safe, quiet haven of the nunnery behind forever.

4

If she could have run, she would have. Running, alas, was not an option for Christiania. The bars of the nunnery were thick iron, but even had they been made of air she would not have turned her back on her responsibilities.

Her father, her mother, her people, were counting on her. Or rather, they were counting on the coffers of gold and silver that her marriage would bring to their fire-ravaged town.

Her own life was but a small price to pay for the renewed vigor of her birthplace, a once thriving land. It was her duty to sacrifice herself to the needs of her family. Just as it was her duty to sacrifice herself to the needs of her husband. Again she shivered with fear. How she dreaded the moment when he pressed his body against hers. She prayed for the strength to fight her tears when he rended her in two, as he would again and again until she had given him a male heir. She begged the Almighty to grant her a strong and healthy son and quickly, but Christiania was very much afraid that her prayers would go unheard.

Christiania had been groomed from the cradle to be the virgin wife of a great man. During all her years at the nunnery, where she had been pleased by the silence rather than dismayed by it, she knew that one day she would be marrying.

Today she would fulfill her ultimate purpose to her family.

If only she hadn t seen the horses mate. And the dogs. And the donkeys. The great battering of a thick member, that s what awaited her. The mares had run, the bitches tried to flee their pens, but never, not once, had they stood a chance against the brutes who hunted them down. Once pinned into a corner, the females would hang their heads as they were pounded into from behind with red, insistent shafts.

Shocked and horrified, Christiania had fled the barns. On her hands and knees she had scrubbed the stone floors of the compound until her knuckles bled and her fingernails cracked, trying to erase the picture of brutal male dominance from her mind s eye. No matter how she tired herself, she had been unable to wipe away what she had seen.

Late at night in her narrow cot, heat had rushed through her. She remembered the whinnying of the mare, the hot breath rushing from the nostrils of the bitch. Something warm coursed through her. She was sure such unnatural thoughts, such unnatural feelings, were the hand of evil.

She clenched her eyes shut and prayed.

Just hours ago she had let the nuns bathe and perfume her. They had dressed her in such finery, silks and satins that she was sure she would never become accustomed to. She longed for the thick, coarse fibers of her robe. Her wedding gown showed her curves too well and she was embarrassed by her womanly figure. If her husband was attracted to her, might he mate with her for more than just an heir? Please no, she pleaded silently. Contrarily, she was also worried that her husband would be displeased by her. And if her looks, her woman s gifts did not please him, what would be her fate and the fate of her people? Would he turn his back on all of them just because she could not be the wife he demanded?

She had but glimpsed Marcus one time, on the eve of her fifteenth birthday.

His overly large muscles, the grim set of his lips were her only memories of him. Now, ten years later, at this outdoor ceremony, her idyll at the nunnery 5

was at its end.

The priest s nasal voice wound down and Marcus squeezed Christiania s fingers. She jumped with the force of his hand around hers, unused to the touch of anyone else, let alone a man.

A warrior no less.

The silence in the dark was unbroken, but for the wheezy breathing of the priest. Christiana swallowed nervously, praying to God that she would not faint. Later, when Marcus was above her, plying her open with his enormous rod, she would gladly fall unconscious. If only she knew the question that had just been asked of her by the priest. Were they already at the vows?

The holy man requires your answer, lass, Marcus said, his burr rough with impatience.

Her eyes opened wide and filled with tears. It was certain now, she would be beaten. And it was her own fault for being inattentive.

Marcus sighed, looking no less thrilled with her than she was with him. Will you take me in marriage? he repeated for her ears only. They had already signed the betrothal contracts, but even so, this ceremony was important to seal their union.

Dumbly, Christiania nodded. Yes, she squeaked.

Marcus turned her to face him, his fingers boring into the soft flesh of her shoulders. His mouth came down to fasten on hers, the sweet smell of lemons teasing her skin. Above his shoulder, through the branches of the trees, in the black of the night sky, a star fell.

Oh shooting star, take me to a gentler man
, her heart cried.

All went black.

6

Chapter Two

Heading for Scotland, 1320

Her insides were on the outside and her skin had replaced her internal organs. Christina tried to scream, but her mouth was somewhere on the back of her head, so it was no use. An explosion of light reverberated through her like a bomb. Everything shattered. She was surely dead.

The orgasm had killed her.

If she wasn t so pissed off about being dead, Christina would have laughed.

What irony that her favorite pastime should be her ruin.

But then, instead of landing in heaven, she was standing in terribly uncomfortable shoes, in an incredibly heavy dress, being kissed by the hardest, biggest, scariest, most beautiful man she had ever seen.

BOOK: Shooting Stars / Bound by Love
5.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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