Bronto's Revenge: 2 (Barbarian Lust) (5 page)

Her emotions swelled. “Then we don’t need the condom,
right?”

“Right.” He gently rested her head on the ground.
“
Be
warned. Now you’re mine.”

She gulped. The fire crackled but she’d barely heard it
above his sharp intake of air. With a smile that encased her heart, he rose
onto all fours above her body, placing his hands on either side of her
shoulders. Possessively. Like the lion trapping its prey. Never had she ever
felt so defenseless.

“All of you,” he added in a possessive tone, sending shivers
along her spine.

She inhaled sharply, the wispy rush of breath reaching her
ears as he lowered his face. His hair fell forward, brushing her breasts,
coaxing her nipples to shrivel and harden. Rather than kiss her, he placed his
lips at the base of her throat and lightly bit the skin. Her lashes fluttered
closed. She moaned, latched on to his forearms and squeezed his hard flesh,
relaying the effects of the thrill.

“Bronto,” slipped from her on a sigh.

His mouth patted a trail of kisses to her ear. “I’ve got
you, love.”

His voice. It was so…so reassuring, and, and…tender in
contrast to his features. The perfect harmony for a woman making love for the
first time.

Inch by inch his mouth traveled to her lips, leaving a moist
path along her neck. He nipped each lip between his teeth then outlined them
with his tongue before retracing his route to the hollow of her throat.

“You taste so good,” he said, his warm breath bathing her
flesh. “Just as I’ve imagined.”

She raised her hands and stroked his flexed upper arms.
“You’ve thought of doing this to me?”

“From the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

“But you never tried—”

“Out of respect, love.” Soon his facial whiskers grazed the
skin between her breasts as he worked his way down her body.

The moment he sucked a nipple into his mouth, tingles burst
in her chest. She arched her neck and groaned. Within the constant suction she
silently beckoned for something more. How was it possible to feel this way?

She fisted his hair and held him steady while pressing her
breast into his face. He sucked harder and harder then stretched her nipple
between his teeth. Even after he switched breasts he pinched it between his
fingertips. The sensation was overwhelming. Moisture constantly flowed from the
center of her thighs. She placed her feet on the ground and squeezed his waist
between her knees.

As he moved lower she released his hair and fisted the hide.
She knew where he headed but loathed to stop him. What appeared a forbidden act
by her standards might be natural to him. She’d given him control and free rein
to do as he wished, so she’d not hinder his determination by any means.

She scrunched her eyes and held her breath when his whiskers
brushed the inside of her thigh. Her legs trembled but rather than lay them
flat for stability, Bronto pushed them out to the sides, spreading them farther
apart. Her female area opened and warm air caressed her flesh. For the first
time this evening embarrassment plagued her. A different type of heat washed through
her blood. Instinctively she wanted to close her legs but it wasn’t possible
with him lying between them.

“Relax, Ivy,” he coaxed in between subtle pecks to the
inside of her thigh. “I want you to feel me. If you’re tense, you won’t
experience the pleasure.”

She released the breath with a heavy swoosh but sucked in
another when his fingers rested on either side of her woman’s folds and he
spread them apart. She wanted to shout
no!
But the instant his hot
tongue lapped the sensitive bud, her chest exploded in tingles and prickles and
her mind screamed
yes.

The sensation was…it was…oh gosh, indescribable. Her back
arched and bottom jutted forward. “Ahh,” she moaned, rolling her head from side
to side.

What she thought couldn’t get any better, did. She rocked
her hips up and down, up and down, side to side, following the motion of his
tongue. Internal pressure built from the base of her spine to the wee tips of
her fingers.

As it reached a point of explosion she gyrated faster and
faster, she outstretched her fingers and clawed the fur. A slow burn erupted
beneath his tongue, rushing toward her belly then into her chest like the
evolution of a flame. She burned. She burned so bad.

Then it stopped.

It hurt and she wanted to cry and scream and beg him for
more but within the inhale of her next breath he crawled upward, covering her
with his body. He slid his hand in the small space between them and lowered it
to the sensitive area between her thighs. His fingers replaced his tongue,
reviving the abandoned ache. A pulse beat around his fingertips as they prodded
and circled and pinched and consumed her with pleasure.

Suddenly the pressure burst and she shattered. Sparkly
lights fluttered through her mind. Her back arched then her tummy jerked and
insides constricted. Clutched in the realms of bliss and magic, Bronto devoured
her mouth and lifted her legs to the outside of her waist. Somewhere in the
midst of the delirious pleasure he guided his organ to her opening and worked
the tip inside. She whimpered behind the kiss, the sound tainted with fear. She
wanted nothing more than to feel him completely embedded in her depths yet the
little portion he inserted stretched her and she wasn’t positive she could take
any more.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, his rapid breath shooting tiny
puffs of air through her hair above her ear. “Don’t be afraid.”

She nodded and that was all she could do because he stroked
his fingertips through her sensitive folds and toyed with the bud again. The
tingles were instant, branching to her fingers and toes. The spasms and
constrictions hadn’t even completely stopped before they restarted. Her mind
went blank. She felt as if she were shot into the air and bounced from cloud to
cloud.

She was floating in a flickering, colorful aura accompanied
by his voice. His gruff, controlled, rugged voice.

“Hold me, Ivy,” he commanded.

She slid her arms around his back. At the same time he
captured her mouth with his lips and slipped his tongue between her teeth, he
plunged his hips forward, burying his hard shaft deep inside her.

“Oww,” she whined, not because it hurt but because she’d
expected it to, and she dug her nails into his flesh while her body continued
to contract and tug at his organ.

He kissed every portion of her face. “I’m sorry,” he
breathed into her ear. “I’m so sorry.” While patting his lips along her cheek
to her lips, he began to very slowly move his hips back and forth.

She didn’t know what she felt but it wasn’t pain. Fullness.
Stretching. Deep internal throbs racked her inner walls, pulling and forcing
him deeper.

She froze to concentrate on his shaft slipping in and out.
The feelings taking place inside her were unbelievably beautiful. They were not
only physical but soul-joining and she felt closer to Bronto than to any other
living human being.

“Ivy?”

She opened her eyes. He’d braced himself on his elbows while
his gaze traced her face. His expression was laced with adoration and
compassion and her heart swelled. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

He lowered himself briefly for a nip at her lips. “Pull your
knees to your chest so I can deepen the penetration. I’m not completely inside
you yet.”

Deepen? Oh gosh.

“It’s not possible,” she hissed through a catch of breath.

“It is. I won’t hurt you.”

As she complied, pulling her legs forward and holding them
in place, her insides opened, receiving his entire shaft. And it was the most
fulfilling, exquisite sensation she’d ever experienced.

It was so intense she gasped.

“Now you’re feeling it, love.”

“Yes,” she groaned. She was. But she didn’t want to lie
there holding her legs. She wanted to touch him and taste him and breathe in
his scent. Without another thought she wrapped her legs around his back and
latched on to his forearms.

Ever so slowly he began pumping his hips, drawing additional
groans from deep in her throat. “Move with me,” he whisper-growled. “When I
push forward, shove yourself against me.”

“’Kay,” she whimpered, nodding slightly. During the next
insertion she complied, pressing her bottom upward off the ground. And oh dear
mercy she couldn’t bear the friction and fullness and tingles. And when he
increased speed she copied the pace but nearly passed out.

“You’re doing good. Feel the difference?”

“Yes,” she squeaked, digging her nails into his skin as
pressure steadily built inside her chest. It came upon her much more forcibly
this time and during each forward thrust of his organ it intensified. Her
insides swelled, melding to his flesh, and although her mind was fading her
body came alive.

She tightened her legs, pulling him closer. His chest rested
against her breasts. Skin on skin. He captured her mouth at the same time she
grabbed hold of his rear end and pressed him into her. While grinding her
bottom she squeezed his organ with her inner walls.

“That’s it, love.” He moaned into her mouth and sucked her
tongue. Then the strokes of his shaft changed from long and fast to hard and
quick. So quick she could barely keep up.

The pressure turned explosive and as he rammed her over and
over, his heavy breaths raging in her ears, it felt as if the ground dropped
from beneath her.

Sparkly lights danced before her eyes. Her chest heaved and
belly jerked. Inner contractions gripped his shaft and an array of beautiful colors
burst in her mind.

“Jesus, Ivy,” he growled through clenched teeth.

After one more deep, forceful thrust, his organ pulsed and
hot liquid squirted her insides.

She held on tight as he again began pumping in and out. They
were slow, even strokes that eased to a snail’s pace then eventually stopped.
“Bronto?”

When he lifted his face she wiped sweat off his brow. The
crease along his forehead softened.

“Yes?”

“Are you all right?” she asked, mocking his words from
earlier.

He kissed her. “You brought me back to life, if that’s what
you’re asking.”

The sound of children’s laughter forced Bronto from his deep
sleep. His eyes popped open to a morning sky gaping through the ventilation
hole in the roof. Was he dreaming? He did not just hear kids laughing. Nah, it
wasn’t possible. Then he heard it again. The contagious, innocent giggles
capable of making any man smile.

What were the kids doing in this camp? He broke into alert
mode and fully awoke. Then he heard women shouting and calling the kids by
name. He threw the fur aside, wiggled his arm from beneath Ivy’s head and
jumped to his feet.

He barely had his loincloth hooked when he yanked open the
doorway flap and dashed outside.

Yes, he’d definitely heard children laughing and they were
running through the camp closely on the tails of…holy shit. Some of the kids
were fully dressed and others wore leather wraps, the equivalent of American
diapers. He rubbed his eyes and refocused. They were chasing baby dinosaurs
that were no larger than a football.

As he watched in amazement, Vulcan charged from his hut into
the yard, followed by Wisteria. “What’s going on?” he shouted above the giggles
and squeals.

“Chieftain, remember the infestation I mentioned? It appears
it has arrived.” Bronto grabbed hold of a three-year-old boy running by. “Whoa,
little man,” he said, scooping the toddler into his arms.

Vulcan shook his head. “Infestation? What the hell are we
supposed to do with them?”

“You tell me. They look harmless enough.” Even so, the mothers
appeared somewhat leery of the creatures and stood off to the side, shouting at
their kids to come back. Jade, Ruby and Pearl watched in horror but none of the
women made an attempt to grab a kid and go. Zypher, Rocko and Trice each toted
a child, apparently searching for their rightful owners.

Wisteria giggled and stepped between Bronto and Vulcan. “I
can’t believe the dinosaurs are playing with the children.”

More than likely the dinos didn’t feel threatened by the
little varmints who weren’t much bigger than they were.

Vulcan glanced at her as if she’d lost her mind. “It appears
so, but what’ll happen when a child pisses them off?”

“Or they get hungry,” Bronto added.

Vulcan must not have thought of that as an option. “Round up
the kids so their mothers can take them home,” he ordered. As he strolled
toward three children who were running circles around a trapped dinosaur, Wisteria
walked to the forest border and began picking leaves from a cycad plant.

Bronto shook his head and smirked. The baby dino didn’t
appear frightened but it glanced at the kids as if thinking,
What the fuck?

“What’s going on?” Ivy asked at his back.

He glanced over his shoulder just as her delicate fingers
rested on his lower spine. That simple touch set his balls on fire and he felt
the familiar
ping
in his cock he’d experienced at the onset of a
hard-on.
Jesus, not now.
Not while an escaped group of kiddos was on the
loose. “Good morning,” he said, greeting her with a smile.

“Hi.” She stepped beside him and glanced around the yard.
“My gosh. Are those the babies we saw yesterday?”

“I’m sure they are.”

A woman approached, arms extended. Bronto handed her the
little boy, presuming she was his mother. If not he’d end up where he belonged.
Every one of the little tykes resided in the secondary camp.

“Ivy, we’ve got to get these kids out of here,” he said.
“Will you help, please?”

She nodded and followed him into the yard where he scooped
up two more toddler-sized boys who waddled around like the dinosaurs, and he
tucked one under each arm.

After the laughter and shouts died down and all kids were
reunited with their families and sent home, he scoped the area for any
stragglers. What he found instead was Wisteria squatted amongst the hoard of
dinosaur babies, feeding them leaves from the palm of her hand and Vulcan
storming toward her from the opposite side of the yard.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ivy said.

Bronto dismally shook his head. “Your sister is definitely
unique, love. Come on.” He took Ivy by the hand. “Let’s save her from the
chieftain’s wrath.”

They reached Wisteria just in time to see her pouty lips
quiver and hear her say, “We need to keep them safe from other predators.”

“No,” Vulcan said adamantly, crossing his arms at his chest,
displaying authority as he glared down at her.

Bronto wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of those
eyes right now.

“What about other dinosaurs? And…and cave lions?” Wisteria
asked. “Bronto and Ivy had nearly gotten eaten by one yesterday. These babies
don’t stand a chance in the wilderness.”

Bronto glanced at all thirteen dinosaurs as they began
making soft chirping sounds. From the corner of his eyes he saw Tyran
approaching.

“We’re not keeping them,” Vulcan flat-out stated.

“Just until they’re a little older?” she practically begged.

“And if their elders come looking for them? I’m not in the
mood to mess with a herd of ten-ton animals.”

“I don’t foresee that happening,” Tyran intervened. “They’re
diplodocuses. The mother obviously abandoned the eggs after she laid them.”

A brown, short-tailed rabbit hopped from the forest and
stopped at the tree line. Wisteria gasped. “That is not a genuine hare,” she
said aghast.

Ivy glanced at her curiously. “How do you know that?”

“Its eyes. They’re evil.”

When Vulcan stepped toward the rabbit it turned and jumped
into the forest. The dinosaurs chirped and scattered.

“What are they doing?” Ivy asked as one hid beneath the
table near the fire.

“Acting on instinct,” Tyran explained. “They’re seeking
shelter from danger.”

One by one they settled in an inconspicuous spot. Or, as
Bronto presumed, tried to. Most remained partially visible, though, by their
long tails sticking beneath fern leaves and berry bushes.

“See, Vulcan,” Wisteria whined. “They’re scared.”

He studied her for a full two minutes before throwing his
hands in the air. “Fine,” he grouched. “Someone build a pen. But don’t use the
wood intended for the huts.” He turned and walked off. “And I’m not dealing
with any jealousy issues from Birmon,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Nor am I
digging a lake for your two-headed serpent.”

Wisteria and Ivy laughed but they clamped a hand over their
mouths so as not to garner his attention and draw him back.

“Someone,” Vulcan added, “find that rabbit while I retrieve
my rifle.”

All Bronto could say was,
wow
. Just wow. Not even
twenty-four hours ago they’d agreed to kill the critters, now Vulcan decided to
build them their own house. Though he had to admit, the little shits were
pretty damn cute. Bronto doubted he could actually cut their throats or plug
them with an arrow. If he couldn’t annihilate them, no way could Vulcan either.

The man was completely, thoroughly and without a doubt
whipped. Bronto wouldn’t be surprised if Vulcan
did
return with a
shovel. Although Bronto wasn’t one to pass judgment. If Ivy asked him to build
her a palace, more than likely he’d ask her where to break ground. Thank God
she didn’t know what a
palace
was. After last night she sure as hell
deserved one.

Standing in the yard surrounded by fellow tribesmen was not
the time to revisit episodes of
last night
. Damn. He shook his head and
looked at everyone but Ivy. Hell, if she so much as glanced at him now he’d
embarrass himself by popping a boner then he’d have to excuse himself politely
and flee into the forest. Of course he could just scoot her off to his hut and
make love to her again but it’d be rude to steal her away for his pleasure.
Besides, Wisteria would know his intentions, as well as everyone else present.
Well, Tyran.

Every man dreamt of deflowering a virgin. Lucky him, he’d
now had two. But Ivy, oh man, Ivy was superb. Breaking through her hymen during
the onset of her climax was double pressure on his cock. He’d never felt a
woman come so hard. She’d really socked it to him. The constriction. And tug.
And pull. And grinding hips. And her juicy pussy. And her nails digging into
his skin. And her cries. And…
Okay, enough. Forest time.

Just as he spun, eyeing the quickest entrance and the most
confining section of the trees, a piercing scream breached his ears. He glanced
at Ivy and Wisteria first, making sure they hadn’t moved, then he shot around
and scoped the yard.

Jade and Pearl stood near the supply hut, their eyes bulging
as they stared in the vicinity of the cooking pot. A long, green arm was
stretched at least twenty feet from the trees and snaked beneath the stone
table. Gnarly fingers had a grip on the baby dinosaur. Its mouth opened and
closed but Bronto couldn’t hear it chirping through the commotion starting to
take place. His gaze followed the arm to a five-foot-tall alien hidden behind
the crisscrossed branches of two evergreens exactly where the rabbit had
entered. The frigging things appeared to come in all sizes.

Bronto instinctively reached for his bow but he was damn
near naked, let alone not carrying a weapon. It wasn’t often he was caught
without one. Unfortunately this was one of those times. He barely had time to
think when the children woke him plus grab his knife or bow. He wasn’t a
braggart about his archery skills but he was pretty damn proud of his proficiency
with a bow as well as a knife. A few days ago he’d knocked off a mutant by a
hurling his blade. Mutants. The aliens’ creepy, gone-wrong result in their
experimental attempt to mix human DNA with dinosaurs. They were harmless so far
but their patches of scaly, reptile skin and black, vacant eyes could frighten
anyone of sound mind.

Nearly twenty men, all perimeter guards, fled to the area
but not a single one took action. Then a loud
bang
burst through the
yard. The gnarly fingers released the baby and the alien arm retracted,
springing into the trees.

Bronto turned. Vulcan stood nearly two hundred yards away
near his hut with the Barrett aimed at the forest. That rifle could blow the
alien to pieces and he had no doubt it had.

As the echo of the shot faded, silence reigned.

“And so it begins,” Bronto mumbled under his breath. How
many aliens would charge to its rescue only to discover it dead?

As Vulcan strode toward his fallen target, Bronto followed.
The other men fell into step behind them.

When they reached the forest, Vulcan squatted and separated
the branches. The alien lay on its back nearly blown in half. With the
exception of its green skin, the commander was right about one thing—the
species did resemble humans. Everything from its long, straggly black hair to
its seven fingers and toes. Okay, maybe not every physical aspect about them
matched exactly but damn, they were close. They bled, and there was an
abundance of red blood splattered on the ground and in the trees.

Vulcan grabbed the alien by the ankles and dragged it from
the forest floor.

“Fire?” Bronto asked.

“Yep.”

“Let me help.” After Vulcan released one ankle, Bronto
grabbed it and they pulled the alien to the fire pit.

Rocko slid his hands beneath its arms and lifted its upper
body then they tossed it into the flames. A green haze billowed into the air as
the alien went up in smoke.

“Stay back in case it’s toxic,” Vulcan instructed. “Who
knows what kind of disease we’ll contract by breathing in that shit.”

Vulcan stepped backward and bumped into Wisteria, who’d
approached so quietly no one apparently noticed. Bronto certainly hadn’t. But
he did notice, as she stood chewing her lip and gazing at the ground, her
solemn demeanor and the tears in her eyes.

“Whoa, sweetheart,” Vulcan blurted. “You can’t sneak up on a
man. You could get trampled.”

She nodded but neglected to look in Vulcan’s eyes. He lifted
her face by the chin. “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

Yes, he was definitely whipped. He’d turned off the
chieftain persona and turned on compassion by the sight of a tear. Though
Bronto had to admit those tears touched him somewhat too.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Sorry?
What did she have to be sorry about? She
hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing Bronto witnessed. He hoped this had nothing
to do with intimacy. Hell, where’d that come from? Why’d he even suspect it had
something to do with making love? He just wasn’t strong enough to hear anything
concerning that topic right now. One inappropriate word and his cock would
salute the sky. And with Ivy standing a hundred feet or so… He spun around.
Where’d she go? “Ivy?”

“I’m right here,” she shouted.

Again he spun, homing in on the direction of her voice, and
there she stood beside Jade near the supply hut. In the background behind her
he discovered a problem. A six-foot, barbaric problem who answered to the name
Grunt. Bronto felt as if someone punched him in the gut. Probably because it
was exactly what he’d like to do to the man.

Bronto had half a mind to call her away but she appeared to
be enjoying Jade’s company. Fucking her once didn’t give him the authority to
start bossing her around. Technically it did but he wasn’t that guy.

“Sweetheart, why are you apologizing?” Vulcan asked,
recapturing Bronto’s attention as if he were talking to him. The day Vulcan
referred to him as
sweetheart
, there’d be some bloodshed. Specifically
from Vulcan’s nose.

“You can get rid of the babies,” Wisteria said. “They put
your tribe in danger. I didn’t realize they’d draw the aliens.”

“Wisteria,” Bronto responded, feeling the need to interfere.
“I don’t mean to impose, but that may not be a bad thing.”

“Bronto’s right,” Vulcan agreed, wiping a stray tear from
her cheek. “We can use them as bait. It’ll give us the opportunity to knock the
species off. We’ll make sure the pen is guarded at all times. We’ll even build
a roof so the babies are not in jeopardy.”