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

“God help me,” she continued. “I don’t even know why I believe you. I really don’t. It’s a complete damn mystery to me.” Lifting her head, she thumped it down again, then writhed with frustration and with her body’s natural sensuality. “Damn, how big is your cock going to get?”

  Big enough to mate you, my beautiful human mare. Carefully, he loosened one arm and caressed the outside of her long curvaceous thigh.

  “I feel so cold inside,” she whispered. “Like ice has been dumped inside me. Warm me up, Trail, please...if that’s even your real name.”

  He didn’t care if she partly used him as a distraction from her distress, to stop her quaking body and emotions. He didn’t care if her female curiosity ran wild. He only cared that she used him. Now.

  “Drojovv. My name,” he poured into her small ear.

  “Drojovv.” She tested his name on her tongue. “God, Drojovv, you’re addicting. Some sort of alien charisma?”

  Sinking his nose into her tresses, he nuzzled along her neck. “Lust,” he growled. “Plain old-fashioned mounting lust.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She slid her voluptuous ass crack up and down his cock in a timid seduction. He swept his palm over her thigh languidly, enjoying like ferocious hell. “I don’t react to lust. Only to lust, alien man,”

  she added. “There’s more going on.”

  “Red-hot desire?” he darkly bantered. “My cock feels like a fireplace poker.”

  “Oh god, it does.” Her rhythm quickened and he cupped her breasts.

  Boldly fondling, he manipulated the Eros spots on her tits. She whimpered between her frenzied pants, flaming him inside. Before he rolled with her, lost in their passions, he needed to stay in control, guide her toward their mating.

  “That’s it,” he rasped, “dance your body on my cock.”

  Exaggerating her movements, she rode up and down his shaft, his perfect seductress. Her slick ass juices coated him as he grazed her growing nipples with his thumb pads. The round silken thrust of her butt repeatedly rubbed his loins, stoking him to explosive urges. Nipping her shoulder at her neck, he pressed fast kisses along the top, then lingered a hard kiss on the sumptuous flesh of her upper arm.

  “Trail...Drojovv,” she sang passionately. “Make it hard. Take me hard. Please.”

  “There’s only one way I’m going to take you,” he roughly growled. Stroking down her belly, he clamped his hand on her mound and squeezed possessively. Abandoning his cock, she arched against his palm and cried out with her need. Sliding his fingers along her hiarrus cleft, he vise-gripped her clit and gave a hard tug.

  “Yes,” she moaned. Her body turned beautifully molten against him, pleading for more.

  Seizing her slick blazing clit with his nails, he jerked again. She keened whimpers and widened her thighs. Diving her hands down to her hiarrus, she spread her sex folds apart for him, wantonly exposing the length of her clit. God, he wanted this power over her. To make her desperate for what he could give her, and for what he could make her do.

  Rhythmically he tugged on the slippery bulb tip of her clit. Playing his nail over her ripened nipple, he coned her breast inside his hand. He’d never wanted this power over a woman. Until her. Everything inside him screamed and reared, wild to conquer her with his mounting.

  The tense carnal excitement of her body shoved against him, her taut ass pressed against his heavy cock. Damn, she made him savage. Untamed in her passion with him, still, he felt her hold back, probably afraid of what he would think of her, or expect of her.

  That would end. He ruled her now.

  “Say it,” he commanded. “Tell me what you want.” He plucked her hiarrus bud harder.

  Straining toward his fingers, she frenzy-danced her hips with each tug. “I can’t,” she cried out in a whisper.

  Immediately, he plunged his nails into the base of her nipple, deliberately punishing her with more pleasure. She whimpered with ecstasy, her flesh yielding even more against the hard muscles of his body. Trapping her swollen clit, he pulled upwards, gradually stretching her tiny pulsing flesh. “God, yes, yes...yes.” She forced her sex lips wider, digging in her nails.

  “Say it.” He squeezed her sensitive bud without compromise.

  “Please...please...” Her murmurs became begging wails.

  “Please, what?”

  “Oh, god, don’t make me say it.”

  “Say it, Seneca. Say what you force yourself not to say.” He yanked her clit. “What you want to say.”

  She shouted a strangled sound that tore at his heart. What she wanted, but wouldn’t say, also made him volcanic to fuck her. His entire body felt like searing smoke, and he boiled with the need to do what she wanted from him. Then he wanted to make her his. Mate her.

  “You’re doing it,” she gasped out.

  “I am doing it,” he darkly crooned. “I’ll do it more, better. Tell me.”

  She cried out, her emotional wounds torn open by his unceasing demand. Sobbing in an enormous breath, she tightened her eyelids and whispered, “Hurt me.” Her plea was soft as brushing feathers. “Please...hurt me.” She pulled back on the folds of her hiarrus, jutting her full sex cord for him.

  Victory his, he let go of her tiny creamy bulb, then quickly scraped his nails over her sweet stiff flesh. Over and over, he plucked her clit. She screamed with pain and bliss and in a way that let him know she wanted more. Her hips undulated, only restricted by how wide her thighs were spread.

  “God, my Seneca.” He paused, rubbing his finger pad over her tormented bud.

  “More,” she murmured timidly.

  His cock jerked boldly, seeking the wet scorch of her sheath.

  Taunting her nipple with the tugging scrape of his nails, he captured her clit between his thumb and finger. Relentlessly he twisted, and the rich raw scent of her pain-enhanced pleasure filled his nostrils. Soon she whimpered, surrendering to the ecstasy utterly possessing her.

  “Oh, god...Trail.” Her breath caught as she hesitated over his name.

  “It’s okay,” he reassured. “Let go.”

  She stilled, her orgasm consuming her flesh. He stroked gently over her twitching clit with his fingertip, encouraging more sensations. Moaning, she arched against him, a goddess in the throes of rapture. His goddess.

  Pressing his finger into the center of her lush-feeling cleft, he shoved against the base of her hiarrus cord, massaging deeply. Spikes of arousal claimed her, and she rocked against his finger, whimpering her new need.

  “Seneca.” He possessed her ear with the touch of his lips. “I’m going to take you the way I want you.”

  She trembled a moment. Giving her no chance to react, he swept his hands up her silky dewed skin and trapped her breasts in his palms. Fondling, he pinched her nipples with a demanding rhythm. Feeling her desire soar and become mindless, he crooned, “That’s it, my beautiful woman.”

  “Trail,” she cried out. “I ache.” Impatiently, she rubbed her luscious butt cheek up and down his changing cock.

  With his intention to mate her, his shaft altered, becoming thicker, engorged with the substances that would bind them together. The endurance of his cock also increased. For the binding to occur fully, he had to mount her until her sheath orgasmed. He had to mount her like a stallion.

  Volatile to mate her, he snuffled into her hair and caressed her shoulder with his mouth and nose, then lifted his lips to ear. “Hands and knees,” he growled. “Now.”

  He plucked her nipples, his grip punishing. She squealed a moan. Bolting from him, she positioned herself on her hands and knees, her incredible ass all his. Nearly trumpeting his vicious need to spear inside her, he launched from her bed. His feet hit the floor and he spun around to her. Hooking his arm beneath her dainty waist, he placed her on the edge of the bed, her haunches his for the taking.

  “Oh, please.” She dipped her back, thrusting her butt and hiarrus opening to him. “Do it. Take me.”

  He groaned like a barbarian at the sight
of her. His lance-like cock oozed the clear thick substance of mating already. For an instant, as he beheld her curls framing the sex petals around her sheath’s opening, his conscience berated him. She didn’t know he could shift to stallion. She didn’t know his world. She didn’t know he was binding them together.

  Still, his primal need to protect her won out. The urging of his heart, faint as an arriving wind compared to his stud need for her, compelled him, too. Gods of the Equine, he wanted her.

  He slipped his palms up the wet-satiny skin of her inner thighs, widening them to his erotic preference. He let his hips thrust forward, his shaft plunging against her hiarrus opening, a beautiful swelter for him.

  “Trail.” She gasped his name, desperate to be filled. A wild lust possessed every inch of her. Yet, he heard her call to him, a woman calling to a man.

  Gripping her haunches, he lunged with the force of who he was and filled her welcoming tight sex. She screamed, a mixture of shock and panic, then unfettered bliss.

  “God, you’re bigger,” she burst out in the moment he hesitated.

  Buried in the heavenly blaze of her sheath, feeling her stretch to accommodate his shaft, he arched above her and planted his hands on either side of her shoulders. “Seneca, you belong to me,” he hoarsely uttered. He didn’t say forever, except within his heart.

  “Yes,” she whispered, lost inside her unbridled passion.

  Rapid and smooth, he bucked his hips back, then thrust forcefully, his cockhead pressing against her core. God, she was his—finally, his. With his stud’s strength, he repeatedly pumped his shaft inside her little velvety sheath.

  “Oh, god, I’ve dreamed of this.” She whimpered her pleasure, remaining strong against him. Her sumptuous perfect ass graced his loins each time he powerfully lunged to her mare’s core.

  He’d dreamed of the time he took his mate, once he found her. He hadn’t counted on an Earth woman. But damn, she could take the fierce long thrusts of his cock. She could take him as stallion-man lunging inside her.

  He felt her reveling in how he stud-fucked her, and he glowed inside like a youth. Slowly, delicately, her sheath gripped him, blooming with the beginning of her orgasm.

  “Strong,” she murmured. “So strong, and stamina. Yes, make me come for you.”

  Gradually, her ecstasy grew, until she was engulfed and crying out. She collapsed forward, enfolded in the full blossoming of her orgasm. Her sheath convulsed around his shaft, soft and feminine. Instantly crazed and smoldering brutally, he loosed his seed. His cock exploded with a harsh raw rapture, his mating juices saturating her sheath.

  It was done.

  She was his.

  Trail-Drojovv smiled inside as his orgasm became torrents rushing through him, then buried him in a carnal bliss he’d never known. Languidly he glided his cock in his woman’s slickened sheath.

  A mare needed to know she’d been mated by her stallion.

  Her happiness depended on it, as his happiness depended on her.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close as their fierce pleasures continued. He knew there would be hoof-striking hell to pay, probably soon. For now, he could simply embrace her as his.

  “Trail...Drojovv,” she drowsily murmured. “I think I like alien men in bed.”

  “One alien man,” he corrected.

  “Bossy stud, aren’t you?” Her tone teased, but also warned.

  He didn’t care. All he cared about was protecting her. And keeping her as his, even though he would most likely be exiled from his world now. His most beloved equine world, home to all those who owned his heart. Except her.

  When she stirred, a small dance of movement, he rolled them toward the center of the bed. Keeping her embraced, he eased his shaft from her and settled her against him. She stroked over his hand, then lifted it to her lips, kissing the top. “Tired?” she asked, lacing her fingers with his.

  “One eye open,” he rasped. Damn, her little hand felt wonderful clasping his.

  “I shouldn’t keep you awake.”

  He frowned. He hated how she’d been beaten down. “I have to stay awake to watch out for our enemies.”

  She nodded minimally. “Is it because you’re alien? Your prowess?”

  He grinned wider than a river for a few moments. “Yes, my race is potent. And no, my prowess was for you.” He nuzzled beneath her ear briefly. “Want to mind travel with me?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to mentally soar over your land. Look for the bad guys.”

  Twisting around, she faced him. “Okay.” Heaving in a fragile breath, she continued, “I’ll miss you when you leave.”

  Before she lowered her gaze, the pained look in her eyes stabbed him down to his essence as a man.

  No, you won’t. I’m not leaving. He held his tongue, caressing strands of her hair back instead. “Seneca, I’m here to guard one of our portals from all the forest fires. I won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

  “Oh.” Tentatively she slid her hands up his chest. “I...never mind. It’s not important now. We need to get the amulets back.”

  It was important. Still, she was right. “You need rest first. The more we mentally connect, the stronger team we’ll make.” He brought his palms to her temples and lightly pressed.

  “It won’t hurt, will it?”

  Her dry tone had been an attempt to tease him and lighten her own mood. Sinking his gaze into hers, he felt his awareness naturally merge with hers. “Seneca, you’re powerful. What do you feel?”

  “It’s as if we’re joined at the head, instead of the hip. Weird.”

  “Stay with me. It won’t hurt a bit. I promise.” Before she could put up any block, he soared their minds into the night sky and above her stable. Look down.

  She hesitated a second, questioning the reality of what she experienced. The stable. Telepathy? she asked.

  Similar. I’m not sending you a communication. We’re speaking as we would normally, only in this realm of sixth sense energy.

  Oh. He followed her gaze as she stared down at the area around her stable. At least I’m not scared of heights like I usually am. He felt her smile a bit.

  No body to break, he teased. Gently, he guided her toward the end of her drive.

  Hey! I see a patrol car. Looks like the sheriff, himself.

  Concerned, Trail hovered their awareness close to the car. Want to eavesdrop?

  You bet. He felt her fierce determination as he placed them inside the backseat of the car.

  The sheriff spoke to someone over his radio, his tone hushed. Given what he knew about Sheriff Colgan, that was unusual. Whenever he entered any establishment in town, he had an uncontrollable yen

  to hear the booming authority of his own voice, often using it to berate and as a sound-device weapon. Now, he sat back, his belly protruding instead of being sucked in, as he usually did when he swaggered inside the town bars.

  “Yeah, I can harass the bitch. Run her into town on some charge. Fuck, I can always plant some weed. What do I get out of it?”

  “A fire set at the right time. In the right place. A cover for that major deal you’re setting up.”

  Strange wimpy voice, Seneca communicated to him.

  “How did you know?” Sheriff Colgan demanded. His low voice blustered with his surprise. “Never mind.”

  “Let’s say I have my covert sources. Is it agreed?”

  “You’re speakin’ my language. I don’t want nothin’ going wrong with that deal. Shit, not like the last time. Cost me my butt.”

  “We will guarantee a successful deal, Sheriff Colgan. Simply keep her under lock and key for the day, as they say.”

  “I made sure her brother was out of the picture, didn’t I?”

  Oh, God.

  Sensing a psi tentacle directed at them because of her emotion, Trail shielded their presence and shot them back to the bedroom. The frequency tentacle from the Fire Starter psi-watcher dissipated without locking onto i
ts target, their awareness joined together.

  “Oh, God, no,” she wailed softly. Her fingers dug into his arms. In the grip of her feelings, she heaved in large breaths. “Are they listening?”

  “Call Rory,” he whispered near her ear.

  “I can’t. They’ll know.” She sobbed, her breath catching. “They’ll know I know. What do I tell him, anyway?” She made a strangled little cry, her body quivering. “The sheriff is responsible for your accident? Oh, God.”

  “Seneca, listen. Make up a reason. I want you to know he’s okay, right now.”

  “How do you know he’s okay?” She shook more violently. “I know,” she burst out a second later. Jerking out of his grip, she rolled toward her bedside phone. “I hate bad dreams.” Perching on the side of her bed, she lifted up the receiver of an old landline phone, and rapidly punched in a number.

  “How bad was your dream, honey?” he asked, playing his part.

  “It was a damn nightmare,” she complained. “Rory...sorry to wake you up. You’re not really awake, are you?”

  Trail extended his psi hearing to the receiver. Normally, he never intruded into someone’s private business. Now he galloped his psi sense through the line, looking and listening.

  “Seneca?” Rory’s groggy voice mumbled.

  “Yeah, you’re sister. You weren’t—”

  “No.” Rory slurred his chuckle. “Catnip tea only. But it put the lights out.”

  “Good. Are you okay?” Her tiny concerned voice tore at Trail’s gut.

  “Hey... you were supposed to call earlier. I should be asking you.” Rory cleared his throat.

  “Didn’t Bobby get a hold of you?”

  “Yeah, on his break. Glad you hired Trail. Seems like a decent sort, if you stay away from his zipper.”

  “Yeah, so far, so good.” She emphasized good slightly. “He’s taking over your rooms now, and the horses like him. Bobby said you got grilled by the Alphabet suit types.”

  “Sure did. No fun, either. They finally claimed that my accident might not have been an accident, and they needed any info I could give them. What?” Rory’s voice held a shrug. “Headlights, tires screeching, my Harley sliding, then it was my lights out. All I recall after that is coming to for a few moments and seeing someone’s face above me. You know, I told you I thought I hallucinated, or didn’t see real clear.”