Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) (9 page)

You Smell Like a Stud

“Hot,” he growled. “You’re blazing hot around me.”

“You’re blazing hot inside me,” she whispered. The glitter of her eyes flamed him. “And you smell like a stud.”

He blinked, reflecting the blink taking place inside his mind. She’d scented the smoke on him. Now she smelled him for what he was, her stud. No Earth human should have that ability.

“Do you like it?” he hoarsely asked, savage to ride her.

“God, yes.” She raised her knees up and widened her thighs, wanting him to take her.

He eased his cock back with painful slowness. Once he reached her tight silky entrance, he paused for an instant, immersing himself in her impassioned gaze. Her eyes were misty and bright. Breaking eye contact, he lunged swift and hard. After that, he didn’t stop. His needy shaft launched inside her over and over, his hips bucking with a fierce rhythm.

A delirium of ecstasy scorched through him, the same way her sheath scorched and seized his cock repeatedly.

“Yes,” she gasped, surrendering the word to him. “Take me the way you want. Oh god, please.”

He did, listening to her soft pants of bliss. His balls heavily banged back and forth as he stud-strained above her, taking her with the dominance natural to him. The feel of his muscles clenching and unclenching as he drove into her powerfully, especially his flank muscles, had him gritting his teeth in excruciating and unending pleasure.

God, he loved fucking her this way. He loved feeling her body move and shake each time he thrust, as he pounded against the sweet cushion of her mound. When her loins tightened toward orgasm, his loins coiled, darkly aching with the need to reach his zenith. Her sharp little cries jolted through him as her clit spasmed along the length of his spearing shaft.

Pumping easily and rapidly inside her, he raced toward his orgasm. Suddenly she bucked, crying out with her rapture. She arched, her hips strong against his loins. He groaned and shot his seed. The emptying of his cock flared through him, then burst into an inferno of bliss. He listened to her whimpers of ecstasy as he galloped on non-existent clouds.

He freed her palms, wanting nothing more than to cover her body with his, feel her fully. She flung her arms around his neck, bringing him to her and holding him tightly. Moaning, she rocked her body against his frame. Gradually, he settled his entire weight onto her.

“Oh, you feel good,” she crooned softly. “Don’t move.” She continued gently writhing, then began delicately undulating her hips, rocking his shaft inside her.

God in perfect hell, he could get used to this. Quickly, he scanned with his psi senses, his orgasm having lessened enough. First, he witnessed the knowing smiles plastered on the faces of three people inside the surveillance van. Walking his mind around them, he glimpsed a cadre of the tall aliens approaching. They performed their own covert op on the occupants of the van. He wondered, in that split second, if it was feasible to pit the two groups against each other enough to eliminate their dangerous presence in her life. Their lives. That would require more info, and a greater understanding of all the players involved.
The ultimate key, he knew, was locating the amulets.

Releasing his neck, she dove her fingers through his hair. Excited little sounds escaped her lips. He leaned on his elbows and gazed down at her. Caressing his fingers over her cheeks, he lost himself in the ethereal radiance of her face.

“Did you remote view something?” she asked. “Your energy felt different.”

“Yes.” How did he explain? What did he explain? “We’re still being watched. And another group is now spying on that group.”

“Oh.” She sucked in an immense breath. “Over the amulets?”

He nodded. “From what I understand so far.” He brushed his fingertips along her cheekbones, feeling the exquisite texture of her skin. “Time for bed?”

She sighed raggedly, her past hurts welling up, threatening to swamp her new feelings for him. He saw it in the dark shadowing of her eyes, in the mask-like stillness of her features. “It would be safer. I suppose. If we were together.” She pushed
back a fallen lock of his hair, a delicate movement. “God, I don’t need this pain. I really don’t.” Tears glistened in the corner of her eyes, fragile drops not yet rolling downward.

He used his thumbs to wipe them away. “I won’t hurt you. Unless you count how I’m going to ride you next.”

“Next?” She choked a bit after speaking, and he saw her swallow as if she had a lump in her throat. Still, her eyebrow arched.

“Did you think I was a one-ride kind of man?”

She swallowed again, and sniffed back her tears. “You are going to hurt me. You’re not a staying-around kind of man.” She smiled through her pain, a little upturn of her full, heart-shaped mouth. “Except for staying power. You’ve got that in spades, stud.” She stroked her fingers through his errant locks, not looking at him, and he could tell she simply needed to touch him.

“Ever been carried to bed?” Shoving himself upwards, he stood swiftly. She gave him her hand when he reached down, and he pulled her up to him.

“No,” she answered tremulously.

Trail swept her into his arms. Before striding into her bedroom, he peered down at her face. Her stricken heart looked back at him, a shine of sorrow and regret. The bravery that kept her going, despite the toughness of her life also shone, brilliant as a perfectly cut diamond.

“I will take care of you, Seneca.” He didn’t wait for her response, carrying her inside her bedroom.

Moonlight filtered through the thin
lacy curtains, whitening her bedspread. Trail laid her down gently. He caressed her beautifully curling waves of hair back and knelt beside her as she turned toward him. He couldn’t help feeling as though he rolled in her scent, in her most intimate feminine essence. This was her place. Her sacred energies lived here. He felt them. Her dreams, her hopes, surrounded him because they danced in this space.

She stroked down his face, her hand delicate and cool. And caring. “You’re awfully strong. Do you workout? Or does tracking build up all that sleek cowboy muscle?”

He couldn’t tell her it was because of his different physiology, in part. His stallion genes. “Yeah, tracking. I hike on the forest trails, follow the animal tracks for practice.”

She nodded and he watched her let her face tenderly rest against his palm. “You know, there aren’t that many really strong men. And I don’t mean just physically strong.”

“I know.” He brushed his thumb pad over her lips. Their lush shape caused his loins to tingle and straightened his shaft. “Seneca, I need you again.”

She flinched a bit. He knew why. She remembered all those times other males had said that to her. Not the way he meant it. And she knew that. He witnessed it in the flare of understanding deep in her eyes. Still, she couldn’t shake the memories of being used in ways she should never have had to endure.

“Come on, stud,” she drawled, a teasing glisten in her gaze. She twisted at the waist, patting the center of the bed. “Do you want under the covers?”

“After I have my rutting way with you,” he drawled in return. Launching on top of her carefully, he rolled them to the middle of her bed. “You feel perfect on top of me. Especially your breasts.” He leered at her bosom while circling his hands over her better-than-heaven ass.

She allowed herself a tiny giggle. He heard in the sound, how she’d held it, then let it go, just as she now let herself wiggle seductively and playfully on him. “I suppose you’ve been told you’re handsome often enough.”

Lifting her head higher, she examined his face. Slowly, she stroked over his shoulder, molding the shape of his muscles. “My goodness,” she sassed, wriggling intentionally on top of his thickening cock, “you are definitely in need, mister.”

Seizing her butt cheeks with the demand he felt, he pressed down, so her soft muscular belly cradled his shaft, his
bolzaro
, in his language. “You make me
need
,” he growled. Gripping her ass harder, he massaged using his fingertips.

Moaning with pleasure, she closed her eyes and yielded her body to the angular planes of his. She caressed his upper arms, her hunger for their passion obviously rising. “How do you know what I like?” She laid her head on his chest, stroking his arms more sensually.

Trail kissed the top of her head, then nuzzled into her human mane. “Heart Fate,” he murmured. Damn, he’d spoken those words of his kind before thinking. Before she was ready to hear them. Hell, before he knew he’d been thinking them. They had surfaced from the pool of his love for her.

“The heart does know,” she murmured thoughtfully. Raising her face, she regarded him silently for a few moments. “That is...it’s difficult to hear your heart. Sometimes. When—”

“When your heart has been used and abused,” he finished for her. Massaging his thumbs deeply into the voluptuous flesh of her ass, he pressed a path downward, and watched appreciation mist her eyes.

“Yes.” Her expression changed to utter seriousness. “You know, you shouldn’t be here. Protecting me. It’s dangerous.”

Trail almost burst out guffawing. Instead, he clenched his jaw, and made himself look appropriately grim. He added his own determination to the way he gazed at her. “A stud never leaves his filly.” The next instant, he flipped her beneath him and relished her startled expression. Respect for his power glinted in her eyes, super-charging his shaft. “He stays and mounts her.”

“Well, Mr. Stud.” She glanced pointedly down at his cock. “Does a filly ever get a chance to saddle up and ride?”

He grinned lazily. “You think you can tame this wild stallion?”

The agony flitting over her face and stiffening her body had him regretting his words.

“I already tried that...once.” She eyed him directly, boldly. The defiance of her gaze blazed into him. “Never again.”

“No.” He eyed her as directly. “Never again.” Gripping her small lovely shoulders, he firmly stroked them. “How about, you wanna bust this buckin’ bronco? Teach him who’s boss?”

Her chin jutted out slightly. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work. Somehow, I get the feeling you may let a woman think she’s bustin’ you. But you’re a bossy stallion at heart...aren’t you?”

She knew her stallions.

She reached up, exploring the strength of his jaw with her fingertips. Her gaze roved over his face as she considered. “No answer?” she taunted. Her voice was soft and not vindictive.

Trail took a chance, his heart tripping at a frantic pace. “With you, yes.”

“Why?” she slowly asked. “Because you feel protective?”

Her fingers slipped like silky feathers over his chin, but it felt ruthless, lengthening his cock to a painful size. He resisted, groaning. Resisted flipping her over and astride him. He heard her breath hiss inward as she felt his shaft enlarge. Astounded and questioning, her gaze captured his.

“Ride me, Seneca,” he rasped through gritted teeth.

She hesitated for an instant. “Saddle me up, bossy stud.”

Trail slid his hands downward, groaning over her ‘divine versus sin’ body. He trapped her waist and rolled, flipping her above him. As he settled her on top of his lava-hot cock, he wasn’t prepared for the creamy heat of her
hiarrus
lips or the way she squirmed on his shaft, enjoying him. He growled his own ecstasy while he devoured her naked moonlit beauty with his gaze. The subtle jiggle of her breasts caused pangs of desperate pleasure to surge up his body. God, her nipples stood high, brazen buds already.

Turning into a seductress, she gradually undulated up the length of his cock. Her intimate wetness, the shape of her woman’s petals paralyzed him to a needy ache. She smiled at him sensually while her eyes smoldered with a level of passion he’d rarely seen. As he watched her, then felt her mount the throbbing head of his shaft with the cleft of her mound, primal rapture fiercely took over his flesh, making his loin muscles a hard grid. A strangled groan burst out of his throat, and he threw his arm over his brow for a long instant.

“Can’t take it...stud.” She taunted him with a croon.

Snapping his eyes open, he watched her tilt forward slightly. She rocked her
hiarrus
on his cockhead, a delicate tease of movement. Trail grabbed her thighs, stroking firmly. Hell’s own scream, he wanted to thrust inside her, ram his shaft into her until she screamed with her zenith. Yet, he didn’t. Because in truth, he couldn’t. To his stallion core, he wanted to know how his woman was going to take him.

“Give it to me,” he hoarsely croaked.

She sultry-danced her body, forcing her plump clit against his dripping cockhead. Her head fell back, exposing the loveliness of her throat, and she moaned, singing a carnal song of pleasure. So slowly, he wanted to growl out his lungs, she undulated on him, maneuvering his cock to the steamy wet lips of her opening.

Her
hiarrus
unmercifully tormented him as she repeatedly thrust her sheath’s entrance over the tip of his shaft. “You don’t feel like you fit,” she throatily whispered. “You’re too big.” She plunged her sheath over his tortured cockhead.

Bliss sparked madly along his stud length.

“I’ll make it fit,” he rasped, barely recognizing his own voice. “Like it did before.” He seized her upper thighs, deliberately sinking his fingertips into her voluptuous flesh.

“It did fit,” she sang back, a sassy tune. Swaying her hips like a belly dancer, she wiggled his shaft.

“Oh, god, Seneca.” His pleasure swamped him, or he would have lunged for her core. Instead, he remained in a scorching pool of lust while she slowly fucked down his cock, forcing her sheath to take more and more of him inside.

“If you can’t take the heat,” she naughtily crooned. The next instant she keened a moan, shut her eyes and sank downward, her tight female flesh hugging him. “Your cock feels so good.” Savoring, she eased her
hiarrus
sheath downward, until his shaft touched her core, nearly his entire length.