Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) (12 page)

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 its 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.”

“I remember. You said pasty and thin with weird-shaped eyes.”

Rory yawned loudly. “The next thing I knew I was at the hospital. That reminds me. Luke and Spook, are they still getting better?”

“They are, thank God. Listen,” she began, and hissed in a huge breath, “I had a bad dream about you. You know how my dreams are sometimes.”

Rory grunted. “Anything I need to know about, Miss Cleo, Psychic to the Stars?”

“Yeah, stay close to home. I mean where you are now.”

Rory hesitated, and Trail heard him breathe in and out several times. “Why?”

“In my dream, my nightmare, you were trapped by a forest fire. And you couldn’t run. It was horrible.”

“Well, I can’t run now. Sure, no going near any forest fires, I promise.”

“And be careful not to start any,” she admonished.

“From what Bobby said, he’s worried Trail wants to start a fire with you.”

“Whatever,” she dismissed a breath later. “You know Bobby. And I’m not going there. Not with him.”

“Yeah, I know. Bobby’s always been a pal. But you two would be like that old cartoon, pounding a square peg into a round hole.”

“Gawd...you must be feeding your cartoon addiction. And that was bad. Say goodnight, Rory.”

“Goodnight, Rory.”

She chuckled a bit, setting the receiver on its cradle. “That was a silly game we used to play after we watched reruns of George Burns as kids. First it was ‘goodnight, Gracie’. Now one of us will use the gag to end a phone call.”

She’d partially twisted toward him, her eyes dark pools of worry. 

Full-Time Stud

“When are you going to tell him about us?” Trail asked, still playing his role and not.

She frowned a little. “When you prove your worth as my full-time stud,” she answered, playing along.

Sinuous as a feline, she turned and crawled toward him, her breasts hanging and lushly gorgeous. Once she neared him, he cupped her tits, fondling tenderly.

“Stud enough?” He bucked his hips once.

She eyed his standing shaft. “We’ll see.”

Trail caressed her breasts, sliding his palms from beneath them. She nestled inside his arms as he opened them to her.

“What do we do now?” she whispered. “I felt...I guess it’s your energy, on the phone line.”

“Yes,” he answered, matching her hushed voice. “Plenty of listeners.”

She nodded, and her tears dripped on his arm, tiny hot splashes. “Does your race cry?”

He nodded, his cheek brushing her hair. “Our tears aren’t as salty.” Hugging her closer, he rested his cheek against the side of her head.

“What are we going to do? The damn effing sheriff is planning a yellow-bellied ambush. God, I’d like to...never mind.”

“I have a plan. An ambush of my own.”

“What kind of plan?” she demanded suspiciously.

“We’ll do your usual morning routine, and I’ll keep a psi-lookout for his arrival.”

“Then we head for the hills?” she drily asked. “Nope, won’t work. I’m not leaving my horses, or my dogs. And since prison isn’t my idea of fun and good times, I can’t aim at his pork belly and pull the damn trigger.”

“That’s where my alien powers save your sweet ass without blowing my carefully constructed cover as your hired hand.” He’d attempted to lighten the mood with the bantering tone of his voice.

“How?” Her tone hadn’t given him an inch. Only his cock was giving him inches. Not that he blamed her.

“I’ll scramble his brain like an egg.”

“What will that do?” she asked curiously.

“Keep him from planting weed or arresting you for any reason.”

“Can’t you just send him through that portal of yours?” she crooned flippantly. “Omygawd, this is just weird.”

“Sorry, my beautiful woman, his energy would cause a negative disturbance in the force, so to speak.”

“Oh, great. Why do we have all the bad apples here?”

“Bad apples.” He chuckled jovially before he thought. It was a standing joke on his world. “Made me think of a bad joke,” he explained. “We have serious territorial disputes, at times. On my race’s side of the portal.”

“Can you scramble his brain enough to make him forget the whole thing?”

“Not without permanent damage. And our enemies would devise another plan. Sheriff Colgan is dealing with the Fire Starters, although he’s not aware of it. He’s a greedy pork belly.”

“Greedy corrupt pork belly. I’ve got ‘film at eleven’ type of shots, where he’s handing drugs brought in from Mexico over to the area dealers for bags o’ cash.”