Breeding Sex Stories Read online

  Breeding Sex Stories: Complete Collection © 2013, Lexi Lane

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, incidents, locations and places are solely the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, including events, organizations, companies, locales, areas and situations is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes, graphic language and may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files including this book where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  Shipwrecked: Tribal Breeding

  Shipwrecked: Tribal Breeding © 2013, Lexi Lane, Lovers Lane Publishing

  The rolling and pitching of the ship woke Angela from a fitful sleep. Dressing quickly in a simple gown over her chemise and tossing a shawl over her shoulders, she made her way from the small cabin she’d been assigned and carefully climbed to the deck. She found Captain Ethan Lawton standing at the rail, looking at the storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

  “What’s happening, Captain?” She stood near him, her arm brushing his, holding on to some piece of the ship she didn’t recognize, to keep from pitching over the rail. The canvas sails whipped in the wind above them, men scurrying about on the deck.

  “Nothing to worry about, Miss Quinn. We’re coming up on some weather, but we’re in good shape to handle it. May be a bit rough for a time, but you’ll be safe below decks in your cabin.” Lawton looked down at her briefly. “We’ll be fine, Miss. If you like, you can always join me in my cabin. It’s a bit more comfortable than yours.”

  From the minute she’d boarded, he’d shown concern for her, asking her continually if she was comfortable, if she needed anything, taking her arm as he strolled with her about the ship’s deck. Angela found him very dashing, but warned herself about getting too attached to a ship’s captain, who was probably more of a pirate than she’d like to think about. But he was tall and handsome, and he awakened something new and tentative in Angela, something she’d never felt before, a heat inside her that made her blush when she saw him, her heart beat faster, her palms sweat.

  She’d told him about her family, why she was traveling alone, as an unmarried woman without a companion. She knew he was aware she was an orphan; this trip to England from India had taken the last of the small inheritance she’d received after her father had died, his property been sold and his gambling debts paid. Her only relative, a distant aunt, had agreed to take her in, if she could pay her own fare. And so she’d booked passage on Captain Lawton’s ship, bound for England, carrying a cargo she didn’t really inquire too much about. She suspected Lawton trafficked in something not quite legal, but he and his ship were all she could afford.

  Suddenly there were shouts from the crewmen as they ran across the deck. Angela heard the panic in their voices and fear instantly flooded through her veins. There was a tremendous crashing noise and the ship tilted at an alarming angle. Angela found herself thrown against Captain Lawton and then they were plunged into the wild and churning ocean.

  Angela fought the waves and the confines of her clothing, fought against being pulled down as her gown tangled and twisted around her legs, her shawl wrapping around her arms. She fought to the surface, rising above the waves long enough to draw a breath. But a wave crashed into her face and she inhaled a mouthful of seawater. Coughing and sputtering, she sank below the surface again. She struggled briefly and then the world went dark.

  ***

  She was cold. There was something hard beneath her, not the sagging bed she’d had on the ship, but something firm yet strangely giving. All she wanted was to be warm and go back to sleep.

  Someone was shaking her shoulder, a voice calling her name from far away. She opened her eyes, blinking up at the cloud-covered sky, scattered raindrops spattering her face.

  “Miss Quinn? Wake up, Miss Quinn.” She looked toward the voice. It was Captain Lawton, crouching beside her, looking down at her with concern in his dark eyes. He’d lost his captain’s hat, his hair wild and disheveled, his wet shirt plastered to his body.

  “Captain?” She sat up, dizzy and disoriented. “What happened? Where are we?” Angela looked around, confused, her head pounding. They were on a beach, the roiling ocean crashing and booming on the rocks nearby. Palm trees and jungle foliage crowded overhead, waving frantically in the wind. The gray sky pressed down on them, the wind whipping the clouds across the sky.

  “The ship hit the rocks. The crew is gone… we’re the only survivors, I think.” Lawton’s voice broke. She looked up at him, the memory of the final moments of chaos on the ship flooding back. And then the memory of being pulled under, the water over her head, filling her mouth and nose…panic rose suddenly and she began to shiver.

  “Oh, god. The water! I was drowning!” She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.

  Lawton moved next to her, sitting on the wet sand, pulling her against his warm body. She buried her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, murmuring words into her ear, gently combing his fingers through her wet hair. He held her for a long time, her sobs finally slowing.

  “Miss Quinn, we need to find shelter. We’re wet and the storm is going to engulf the island at any time. We need to build a fire and get dry.” He looked down into her eyes, then down at her bare feet. “Do you think you can you walk?”

  She nodded her head. Lawton helped her to her feet. He took a moment to scan the jungle.

  “There.” He pointed ahead. “There’s a break in the jungle, some sort of path.” He looked up. “There’s a rock cliff rising above us. Maybe we’ll be lucky and find a cave of some kind to take shelter in.”

  He reached down, picking up several pieces of driftwood from the sand. “We can use these, they’re dry and we may not find any fuel up there.”

  Angela bent down, picking up several small pieces of wood. Lawton started into the jungle and she anxiously followed, casting a glance back at the shore. The waves were higher, the water surging up and over the narrow sandy spit where they’d been resting. She turned, gathering up her dirty, torn dress, following Lawton’s disappearing back, hurrying to catch up.

  She struggled after Lawton for a long time, tripping over vines and roots, stepping on sharp rocks, wishing to rest but not wanting to be a burden. Finally he stopped at the base of the cliff, looking up the face of rock. She stood beside him, breathing hard. They were at the base of a large sloping rock wall, much taller than it looked from the beach.

  “Up there.” Lawton pointed to an area that looked like nothing more than a dark shadow in the rocks. “I think there’s at least some kind of cave we can shelter in.” He turned to her, looking down at her bare feet. Then his eyes met hers and he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Not much longer, Miss, and you’ll be dry and warm. And we can think about how to get off this island. Before you know it, you’ll be home in England, sitting beside the fire, telling your family all about your adventures on a wild island in the Pacific Ocean.” He smiled down at her.

  “We need to get up the cliff first, Mr. Lawton.” She looked up at the wall of rock. “How are we going to do that, and carry the firewood?”

  Lawton looked around, scann
ing the rocks in front of them. “It’s not as hard as it looks. There are broken places, here…and there, that you can use as foot and handholds. I’ll carry the firewood, you just climb. Go ahead of me and I’ll help you.”

  Angela moved forward, putting her hands where Lawton told her, placing her feet on small ledges, her fingers in between broken rocks. Lawton was right behind, sometimes climbing alongside her, the firewood slung on his back, tied with vines. She felt his hands guiding her up the rocks, his arm around her waist at times, holding her as she rested, his hands occasionally sliding up the bodice of her dress, his fingertips brushing against her breasts. The accidental touches made her jump, broke her concentration as she tried not to fall from the rocks. She shook her head more than once, trying to focus on the rocks and not on his hands on her body.

  They eventually crawled up on a small ledge. Lawton walked to the cave mouth, disappearing inside. Angela crouched down, exhausted, waiting for what seemed like forever. Finally he emerged, a smile on his face.

  “We’re in luck! It’s quite nice, actually. Big enough for a fire, we’ll be out of the weather. It ends a short way back. There are no signs of animals either. Come, Miss Quinn. We can get a fire started and stop that shivering of yours.”

  Angela walked cautiously into the cave. The floor was smooth stone, the walls arching overhead, tall enough to stand. The darkness extended back, a deep yawning maw that made her shiver, even with Lawton’s assurance it was a dead end. She caught Lawton looking at her, not for the first time, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. It occurred to her that her wet dress did little to conceal her breasts and the cold had made her nipples hard, clearly visible as they poked through the wet material. Her skirt had torn and a long slit ran almost to her waist, her leg clearly visible. She’d dressed quickly and was acutely aware she wasn’t wearing any kind of undergarments.

  Lawton was crouched on the cave floor, working quickly to start a fire. Tendrils of smoke were rising, and soon a small flame was visible. He added the driftwood and the fire leapt high, warmth drawing Angela closer.

  “There, much better, Miss. Here, sit here.” He pulled her toward the fire, brushing dirt and sand away from the rock floor. She sank gratefully down to the stone, holding her hands out to the fire.

  “We’ll need to spend the night here at least, until the storm stops. We need fresh water too. I’m going to go back out for more firewood, see what I can find to get us through the night. Will you be all right here, alone, for a little while?”

  Angela nodded, watching him leave. She counted the minutes in her head, willing him to come back, afraid to move from the fire as it dwindled down to almost nothing. The storm had started; she could hear rain, watched as sheets of rain lashed the ledge outside the cave. Lawton came back a long time later, carrying a massive bundle of wood and several large leaves. He was soaked to the skin, his shirt and breeches hugging his muscular body, his hair wet.

  Lawton heaped more wood on the fire and the flames grew quickly. He fashioned several containers out of the leaves, setting them on the ledge outside the cave. She could see them quickly filling with water. He brought one back, offering it to her.

  She drank the water, handing the container back to Lawton. He drank, then set the container back on the ledge to collect more rainwater.

  “You’ll be warm soon enough. The fire will reflect off the wall behind you as well, warming you from all sides.”

  She watched with as Lawton stripped his wet shirt over his head, the firelight illuminating his broad chest. Angela tried hard not to stare, forcing herself to look at the fire. Lawton sat beside her, his hip resting against hers. They sat for a moment in silence and then he slid his arm around her, pulling her against his body, rubbing her arm with his hand. She rested her head on his shoulder. The warmth of his body and the fire slowly relaxed her tense muscles and she moved closer to Lawton.

  “You know, Miss…” Lawton began.

  “Angela. Please, call me Angela. I think we can dispense with formalities, considering the circumstances.” She looked up at him, the fire reflected in his dark eyes.

  “Angela; alright, I’m Ethan.” He looked down at her, as if gauging something that hung in the air between them. She let her eyes drift over his handsome face, feeling a flush on her face that had nothing to do with the warmth of the fire.

  Ethan cupped her face in his hand, looking into her eyes. He bent his head, gently kissing her, his lips soft against hers. She felt him open his mouth, his tongue gently brushing against her lips. She tentatively parted her lips, allowing his tongue into her mouth.

  Angela signed, leaning closer to Lawton. In all her time in India, she’d never left her father’s compound, the only men she’d seen the servants who’d worked for her father. She’d then she’d only glimpsed them naked once or twice, sneaking out of the house, slipping down to watch them in the river bathing, her breath catching in her throat, her heart beating fast, both from the fear of being caught and the excitement of seeing the men naked.

  Later, she’d remember what she saw, their muscular bodies in the twilight, their cocks resting between their legs as they washed or swam. Such a brief stolen glance, but she’d lie in her bed later in the dark, strange sensations washing through her body. Her hands would move over her body, rubbing and squeezing her breasts, the nipples hard and sensitive. She’d move her hands lower, sliding them down her body, her over her flat stomach, her fingers finally twisting between her legs. She’d rub herself, her legs spreading wide, her hips rising and falling as her fingers rubbed and slide against the warmth and wetness between her legs. And then she’d arch up, shuddering, as the strange sensations peaked, rushing through her body, making her cry out with their intensity. Afterward, she’d lie in bed, wondering if that was what men did to women, if their cocks made women feel that way. And she longed to find out.

  Lawton was kissing her more passionately now, his tongue thrusting firmly into her mouth. She raised her hands, running them over his broad chest, up his neck, winding them through his dark hair. Lawton responded, pulling her closer, his hands reaching for her breasts, his fingers pulling at her dress. The thin fabric, torn and tattered, gave way easily, exposing her to the waist. She gasped as she felt his fingers on her skin, running over her breasts, pulling and tweaking her nipples.

  Lawton laid her down on the stone floor of the cave, breaking their kiss to look down at her, the fire throwing shadows over his face. His eyes were hooded and dark as they traveled over her breasts, up to her face, meeting her eyes, his hand continuing to fondle her as he spoke. His mouth twisted into a smile that wasn’t entirely kind. Angela felt a twinge of concern deep in the pit of her stomach.

  “Oh, Miss, you are beautiful. From the first I saw you, I wanted you. Never would I have thought it would be here though, in a cave. I wanted you in my cabin, in my bed, taking you over and over, all that milky white skin under my hands and mouth. All that time from India to England to use your body. It would have made for a far shorter voyage, for both of us.”

  Angela gasped. No one had ever spoken to her like that. She realized for all his fatherly concern and her schoolgirl crush, he’d had plans to seduce her all along. Her mind reeled, telling her she should be repulsed, she should claim her honor, protect her virtue and slap Lawton’s face.

  But her body was responding to his kiss, to his hot gaze, to the hand that lazily rubbed her nipple, and instead of slapping him, she pulled him closer, her lips against his again, opening to him, her tongue meeting his.

  After a time, Lawton broke away, trailing kisses down Angela’s neck, licking and kissing his way to her breast. She watched, her lips parted, almost panting, as he slowly licked her dark nipple, watching it pucker, thrusting up from her pale skin. He flicked his tongue back and forth over the hard nipple, his eyes never leaving hers. She gasped at the sensations that traveled through her body, all of them coalescing in the pit of her stomach, then moving lower, the strange fl
uttery feeling she’d elicited with her own hands now being fueled by Lawton’s mouth on her skin.

  She dropped her head back, eyes closed. Instantly Lawton raised his head.

  “Watch me, girl. Watch me while I pleasure you. I want you to see everything I do to you. Never close your eyes.”

  Angela raised her head, meeting Lawton’s eyes. They were hot with lust. She nodded dumbly, eyes glued to him as he lowered his head again, pulling her nipple roughly into his mouth, sucking loudly. She watched him sucking at her, watched him move from breast to breast, his tongue and mouth driving her wild.

  He moved his body between her legs, pulling the rest of her tattered dress and chemise away from her body. She could feel the heat from the flames licking her skin as he spread her legs with his hands, his mouth still sucking greedily at her breasts, his eyes still locked on hers as he moved between them.

  Angela ran her hands through his dark hair, holding him against her, still watching every move he made, gasping loudly. She felt him rub one hand over the soft skin of her inner thigh, pushing her legs further apart. He broke away from her breast, panting, looking up at her.

  “You’re a virgin, I’m sure, but not for long. I’m going to fuck your virgin cunt, take that bounty as mine. For the paltry amount you paid for passage, I deserve some additional compensation. And you’re it…and you’re going to enjoy it.” He ran his hand between her legs, watching as his fingers probed briefly inside her, then pulling his hand away.

  “You’re certainly hot for it.” He held up his fingers. “Look. You’re wet and ready, just waiting for my cock.”

  Lawton ran his hand back between Angela’s legs, his fingers rubbing and tugging at her clit, sliding over that swollen button of flesh, making her legs jerk involuntarily. Lawton laughed.

  “You’re hot for a little virgin. Nice to know you’re not one of those frigid British prigs, too scared to enjoy themselves.”