Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) (22 page)

BOOK: Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic)
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“Do you want to get married?” he asked gently.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Not now, anyway.”

“Do you want a white picket fence?”

She smiled, amused. “There are some fences that need fixing. A white picket fence around my kitchen garden might be nice.”

“Consider it done.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You might need to go charging off to devour a forest fire.” Her entire face glowed. “That was fantastically amazing, by the way, alien stud. It almost makes me want to start a fire just to watch you again.”

Trail pranced inside. He was her stallion of flame. “I’ll get it done between saving the portal and stopping all the nearby fires.” He gradually smiled, then used his gaze to suggest what else they’d be doing.

“Oh, you think it’s all that simple. Well, it may be destiny. That I’ll buy. But that doesn’t mean I’m just yours for the taking.”

“We are
mates
. You want me.”

“So, the truth emerges. It wasn’t only substances to connect our minds, it was hormone-connecting chemicals...like passionate chemistry for real.”

“It was me wanting you. Choosing you.”

“To protect me.”

He watched her struggle to wrap her mind around what he’d told her so far.

“A stallion will always protect the mare he loves, no matter what else occurs. That’s what happened, Seneca. I chose you as my
mate
. I know that doesn’t seem fair, but, you won’t regret it.”

She trembled, her hand shaking like a trapped butterfly against his. “I hope not,” she whispered. “My heart has been through enough battles.”

“I had no way of knowing it, until now. You were made for me, Seneca. And I was made for you.”

Her tremors halted and she smiled weakly. “How will I ever explain you as one of my horses? Unless it doesn’t work that way. How does it work, shifting? How often do you...”

Chapter Twelve

The Love of a Good Horse Shifter

 

“So far, I’ve been able to shift enough when I absorb the firestorms. By Earth time, once a week is all I need.”

“Is that all you need for your horse spirit? I mean, don’t you need, or want, to run free and fast?”

“Wild horse herds are a thrill to go galloping with, if the stallion doesn’t object. When I race through the forest it’s a powerful sweetness to my equine blood.”

“What about home? Don’t you run there?”

“There are extraordinary land vistas of many types to walk and gallop through as a horse. It’s similar to going on a hike through the wild natural areas on Earth.”

“I’d like to visit your world.” Her words were hesitant, yet sincere. Trail embraced her hand between both of his.

“I have a feeling that will happen. It’s more important we build our life together here.”

“This is all so sudden,” she joked, her tone ironic, yet tremulous. She shivered again, and watched uncertainty grip her.

“We can do it, Seneca. First, I’m your hired hand. Next, your boyfriend.”

“My live-in lover. Great, what am I going to tell Rory? More to the point, how am I going to tell him?”

“Don’t tell Rory anything for now. Wait until he heals completely. We’ll figure it out, how to handle everything.” He caressed the top of her hand, wanting her to continue trusting him, just enough. Ultimately, he wanted her to trust her own inner knowing about him.

“Well, I guess I could claim you’re a friend’s stallion staying with me. You could run the pastures.”

“When I do gallop the pastures I want you astride me, my Seneca.”

She rolled her eyes a little, but flipped him a little smile. “You are an incredible ride, and I mean as a horse.” She frowned minimally at his ‘I want to ride you look.’ “What about Ignition? He will be so jealous.”

“I’ll have a stallion meeting of the minds with him. He’ll understand.”

Doubt clouded her sky eyes, but she said nothing. Instead, she reached out with her other hand and grasped his, stroking. Seeing their hands united, he surged inside with happiness. “Okay, you win. I’ll give it a try. As if I really have a choice with everything that’s happened, that is. Who can fight destiny, right?”

Trail thought his heart would burst apart with joy, but he merely gave her a lopsided grin. “You’ll like having me around, my beautiful woman.”

“Oh God, I hope so. I really do. My past experiences with having men around haven’t turned out all that wonderful. Of course, they were merely human.”

“Every mare needs the stallion who not only loves her, but knows how to handle her with the right persuasions.”

She cocked her head, her chin defiant. Challenge glinted in her eyes. “Is that so?”

Trail didn’t regret his words, but his
mate
expected an answer, proof for what he’d just claimed. Letting his passion ignite, he started with her face, then scorched his gaze downward in a deliberate perusal of her body. He did what he’d wanted to do every time he’d seen her, let her know how alluring and sexy he found her. Let her know he was ready to mount her until she begged for mercy, or for more.

“Oh God,” she breathlessly burst out. Squirming, she gripped his hands hard. Her heated sex scent swirled around him, capturing his heavy balls, and causing his shaft to threaten the strength of his zipper.

Slowly, Trail grinned, his gaze feasting on her mouth. Her eyelids closed in surrender, and she made a tiny mew of need.

“Come here,” he growled the command, firmly pulling on her hands.

“Dammit, bossy stud.” Standing shakily, she moved around the table to him, following the guidance of his grip.

The moon-round beauty of her breasts, swollen with desire,
thrust against her t-shirt, her nipples ready to be suckled. Raising her hands to his lips, he placed reverent, yet demanding kisses on top of her strong little hands.

“Trail,” she whimpered, her carnal ache music to his ears and to his cock.

Easing his hands from hers, he claimed the sacred shape of her waist and caressed. With possessive languid strokes, he molded her ribcage and her back, a harmony of fragility and strength beneath his palms. “Seneca.” He nuzzled teases between her breasts.

She leaned forward, arching her luscious teats to him. Her palms ran over the entire width of his shoulders, her touch so soft, it burned a wild pleasure through him. Using his teeth, he repeatedly nipped the inner swells of her breasts through her t-shirt.

She moaned, her hands sweeping from the top of his shoulders to the hard planes of his back. His thumbs caught the plush curves of her tits as he rapidly circled his palms over her back.

“Stud,” she encouraged. Her breasts heaved with each of her rapid breathy pants. Her scent bloomed around him, riper and fierce with her arousal.
After nuzzling the exquisite heaviness of her breast, he nipped and tugged on her taut nipple, his teeth scraping. “Oh God, yes. Hurt me, please.”

Grabbing her tits, he shaped them to his hands. Her plump teat pushed farther inside his mouth. He sucked the stiff bud, then bit down, hearing her ecstatic cries and feeling her fingernails sink into his shoulders. His woman would soon crave what he did to her as much as he craved her every touch, soft or savage.

Gradually, he worked his clamped teeth down her elongated nipple. She desperately moaned with bliss and wiggled, trying to force her other teat to his mouth. Abandoning her nipple to her clinging wet t-shirt, he sharply bit down on her other thickly engorged bud.

She whimpered with pleasure and he also heard her anticipation of more pleasure. It hitched his cock and his primal need for her twisted a smoldering path through his loins. He tormented her teat without mercy.
“Oh, Trail, I love what you do to me. Please,” she begged for more.

Utterly impassioned, she stroked up his neck, threading her fingers in his hair, and pressing his head strongly to her. He suckled her irresistible nipple, alternately nipping roughly and laving her teat with his tongue. Her moans of primitive bliss filled his ears.

For her, his blood roared through his veins and moved like fiery streams of lava. If he hadn’t been so carnally bewitched by her breasts and by her need to have them lustily used, he couldn’t have stopped himself from pumping his cock inside her blistering sheath.

“Trail.” His name was a plea. She dove her hands to the front of her jeans.

“No,” he rasped. “I want it this way.”

He seized her hands, stopping her. Desperately, she cried out, straining her hips toward him. Gripping her jeans, he unsnapped them. With deliberate control, he eased the zipper down.

“Bossy stud,” she breathlessly complained.

Trail punished her teat with his teeth, then nuzzled the peak of her breast as he pulled down her jeans so the waistband pressed against the bottom of her ass.

“Oh damn, my clit is going crazy, jerking for you. God.”

His shaft bucked, refusing the restriction of his jeans as he unzipped himself, then sprang free. Intentionally, he kept his balls imprisoned, wanting to possess her for a long time. He palmed her butt cheeks, trapping them as he lifted her off the ground. His cock stood tall and aching, ready to mate her. Her hands hit his shoulders, gripping in reflex as he brought her higher.

“Wrap your legs around me, mare. Open to me.”

She keened a whimper of raw need, her sheath’s entrance softening and widening. He knew because he smelled her dripping rich juices. Lowering her, he stabbed his cock’s head inside the steamy slick opening of her
hiarrus
and halted.

Moaning sharply, she positioned her body so he could slide his shaft inside her and drive to her woman’s core. “Talk about stallion-size,” she praised.

Her lips caught his forehead with a kiss as he let her gradually sink onto his starved cock, desperate to mate her. When she whimpered with pain, he paused, a groan escaping his lips.

“Please, it’s okay,” she whispered, hugging his neck. “I want to feel all of your stud cock.”

Nuzzling the side of her delectable neck, he indulged in the perfume of her feminine passion. “My woman.” His lips moved against her heated sensitive skin.

She pressed her nose to his forehead, intimately caressing him. Trail forced his shaft through the tight scalding walls of her
hiarrus
, his entire body basking in the ruthless flames inside him, ignited by her.

“Oh, God, yes, make me take you.”

She stroked her face against his cheek. Their lips sought each other and clung with a tender ferocity.

Engulfed by the blazing silk of her sheath and the tiny squeezes of her breeding flesh, he possessed her soft perfect ass with his stroking hands while his balls strained, trying to tighten. Denied, sensations of pleasure shot up his cock.

“God, this is erotic.” She panted the words against his mouth once their lips parted.

“About to be more erotic,” he growled low in his throat.

Seizing her ass cheeks he hauled her up the length of his greedy and volcanic shaft, then down just as fast. “Yes,” she mewed with pleading.

Establishing a primal rhythm guaranteed to blow his body into particles of rapture, Trail fucked her up and down his needy cock. He listened to her little song of ecstasy and felt her convulse more strongly around him. Never wanting it to
end, he tested their endurance.

Finally, she cried out, a delicate sound as her orgasm bloomed around him and captured her, forcing her body into a blissful stillness. God, he loved her. His Seneca, his mare. His love for her poured through him as savagely as the black sharp pleasure that claimed his shaft. It ripped through his balls, then went ballistic throughout his flesh.

Through gritted teeth, he shouted his orgasm. She spiked her hands into his hair, kissing the top of his head, her mouth clinging. When sanity returned, he swept caresses over her ass, then up her back. Collapsing against him, she rested her head on his shoulder. Trail pulled her closer in an embrace that satisfied his heart.

For a small time, they held onto each other.

Raising her head, she undulated her hips, rocking his cock, lessened in size but still standing.

“Feels good, my beautiful woman.”

He splayed his hands over her back. The glimmer of her gaze, the remnants of her orgasm, seeped down to his soul and he felt replenished.

“You feel good,” she returned. Swooping to his lips, she kissed him soundly and with an affection that let him know her heart opened to him.

“Seneca,” he rasped against her mouth.

“I love what you make me do.” She spoke shyly, yet with the enthusiasm of a temptress.

“I plan on making you do a whole lot more.” Trail slid his palms down her back, gripping her ass forcefully, letting her know he would handle her in a commanding manner.

“Bossy stud,” she falsely complained. Yet her independent nature also challenged him.

Trail loved it, adoring his fiery strong woman. He nipped a kiss on her chin, then smoothed his hands over her butt cheeks.

She smiled, fondling the back of his neck with the feather touches of her hands. “That’s it, I should write a book, My Life With a Bossy Stud.” Seeing his face, her sweet grin changed. “What’s wrong?”

“The Alphabet Intelligence Agencies and the Alien Busters scan novels looking for truth disguised as fiction.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t have time to try writing a novel, anyway. Why don’t we go take care of the horses while I’ve still got some energy? I guess we should make everything look as normal as possible for any of my boarding people who show up.”

“Seneca, one more thing I need to explain.”

“What?”

“Having children.”

Their gazes met fully and with a solemnity that made the air in the room feel like a smothering blanket.

“I said children earlier, didn’t I?”

“Do you want children?” he asked.

“No. Not right now. As long as we’re dealing with issues, you should know I’ve never had an interest in becoming a mother. That may change, or it may not. I don’t know.”

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