Peyton's Ride (Riding With The Hunt, #1) (8 page)

Oh she liked that. He moved even harder.

“Uh—”

Her pussy rippled around him. His balls drew up tight and cum shot into her in what felt like an endless stream. Wild, unfettered magic flowed between them, and a glow started in her solar plexus, spreading out to her extremities. With his shaft still buried inside her, it rebounded into him, and he felt like he exploded and was remade again.

She’d always been beautiful, but in that moment, her appearance stopped his heart for a few beats.

He traced her eyebrows and the slope of her nose and then kissed her with a simple press of his lips to hers.

No one could compare to her. No one would ever be as perfect for him as she was.

L
ethargy and calm peacefulness curled around her. The heat and weight of Ian’s body pinned her to the cushions, his semi-rigid shaft still inside her pussy. Sex had never been so fulfilling and exciting for her before. She’d never had an orgasm as explosive and full bodied as she’d just had with him.

And more than one. A slow smile crept across her mouth, and she twisted her head to the side. His forearm rested near her face, and she loved the way he still smelled icy and wild, but now a new fragrance wafted from him. Sex and sweat mixed in with the underlying scents inherent to him. She kissed the flesh nearest her and licked it. The second he was ready for more, she was totally on board.

So she wasn’t a cannibal...she was a nymphomaniac cougar. Wait, not a cougar. He’d said so.

How old was he, anyway?

Shit, who cared? The man had a pierced dick and he knew how to use it.

“There should be a law.”

“About?” He nuzzled at her neck and cleavage, giving her wet, open mouthed kisses.

“Cocks. All should be pierced. Only way to go.”

Warm air flowed over the damp smears he’d left all over her upper body, and then his throaty laugh rolled over her again, a sound so sensual she curled her toes.

The tattoo sleeve on his right arm drew her attention. She wanted to taste it. Taste him.

There.

Vines and dark-green leaves twined large, white blossoms in a circle. The black shape of a horse with red eyes, mane and tail flying on invisible wind raced through the middle of the design. With one short swipe, she brushed her tongue over it.

“I licked your horse.” The absurdity of her statement struck her, and she laughed. What a ridiculous thing to say to someone after sex.

“Hmm?” He cocked his head and seemed confused.

“I licked,” she flicked the horse again with the tip of her tongue and nibbled it, “your horse.”

The green of his irises glowed brighter, and she caught her breath when her own magic resonated in response. Like a tuning fork banged on a marble floor, as the magical energy in him spilled forth, something in her wound tighter and tighter. His cock swelled. A feral, desperate sound flowed from his throat and a coil of something raw and wild burst open inside her.

Compulsion drove her, sent blood pooling between her legs and centered in her clit. She dug her nails into his ass with both hands and bucked her hips.

More. She had to have more of him. Right now. Any doubt she’d harbored about whether or not she wanted him as her mate dissolved. No, she didn’t love him, not yet.

But she knew she would.

The hoops through his nipples dangled, a temptation she had to have. She closed her mouth over the nearest one and alternated biting and sucking the area. He rolled his hips in a circle, but didn’t give her what she wanted: the sensation of every long, thick inch of his dick dragging through her slick pussy. The steel ball providing extra friction across her walls.

Powered by frustration and muscles she’d never realized she possessed, she rolled them over and sat up on his groin. Surprise and delight chased across his features. Being on top had never been a personal favorite position for her; she didn’t like feeling as though she was on display. But the wide eyed, slack jawed expression as he focused on her breasts, and the way strands of her hair fell forward over her shoulders gave her a feeling of empowerment she’d never have thought possible.

He reached up and captured her full globes in both hands. “Ready to ride gorgeous? I’d love to wake up this way every morning.”

She flexed her legs and slid up his length until only the head remained inside before relaxing back down. “Lazy in the morning?”

With her next glide up and down he raised his hips to meet her halfway, and she gasped. “No. But having you ride me before I have to start the day sounds damn sweet.”

The rhythm got faster, muscles clenched and burned from the sensual assault. Her cream covered his cock, and she placed her hands on his chest, bent at the waist, and reveled in the sensation of his shaft against her clit. The slap of their bodies meeting crowded out rational thought. The ink of his tattoos got more intense and luminescent; his eyes blazed and bathed her in the magic he carried inside.

She noticed an answering glow from her skin. The magic touched, sparks erupting at the edges and showering down around them. The soft luxurious fur under her knees and shins added to the sensation of his callused hands rubbing across and around her nipples, the thick fullness of his cock.

“Damn...that little ball...” He rocked his hips up into her with an extra, sharp pump at the right moment. “Fuck. Me.”

“Every day, sweetheart.”

They moved together with a punishing beat, and she struggled for breath. Sweat gathered behind her knees, but she couldn’t stop riding the crest of magic and sex. 

When her release tore through her, it spread to every muscle in her body. White lights danced in front of her eyes, and she flopped down face first on his chest. He took her over onto her back and pumped into her three more times until his cum spilled into her. Harsh, broken breathing and the thud of his heart filled her awareness.

He rested his weight to the side and stroked her cheek. “Peyton.”

Relaxation settled not only into her physical form, but soothed something in her psyche too. A completeness snapped home and settled the vague sense of loss and of being an interloper in her own life.

“What?” 

The long, strong fingers she admired tunneled into her hair and held her head still. He kissed her, hard, his tongue commanded and led hers into an intimate dance reminiscent of the way he’d fucked her. Another lingering press of his mouth to hers, and he sucked her lower lip into his mouth.

“You’re mine.” The runes on the tent fabric flared up at his proclamation, and died down again.

She grabbed for his hand and kissed his finger tips. “You’re mine right back.”

The runes exploded, so bright she figured they were visible from space. A surprised giggle left her lips that he cut off by smothering her with a long, deep kiss. Cheers and laughter from outside crowded into the moment, and she turned her head to the side.

“What is that?”

“The other Fae. They probably want to congratulate us.”

Embarrassed at how loud she’d been, she hid her face in his shoulder. “Do you think they heard us?”

“The runes lighting up are a good indicator.” He rolled his hips in a circle. “Plus, you’re in bed with a phooka. Stop worrying.”

Holy crap this was...she swore and glared at his answering laugh.

“And you say I have a dirty mouth.” He kissed along her jaw and teased her nipples. “They’re happy for us. A mating is a joyous event.”

“Uh huh.” Despite his attentions, she couldn’t help but wonder about the people only a few feet away. “What’s the big deal about being in bed with a phooka?”

Baiting him, but she couldn’t help it.

He glanced down between them to where their bodies were joined. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean...so you’re a phooka. A big horse with red eyes. Big whoop.” She swallowed the giggle that bubbled up and compressed her lips.  “I’m glad you don’t have fangs though.”

One eyebrow rose up his forehead and he gave her the crooked grin she loved. A long, deep thrust drove her breath from her lungs. “What do you think the ‘big deal’ is Peyton?”

“You know, I really have no idea.” She shook her head, trying to control the smirk twisting her lips.

“Hmmm...” He wrapped his lips around her breast and drew circles with his tongue, rocked his cock in and out with shallow thrusts.

Pleasure spread through her, a slow tendril of flame that crackled through her veins. She sifted his hair through her fingers and looked at the canvas roof above them, her gaze stopping on one sigil in particular.

Family.

“Ian? Do you think my father is out there?” Why the question popped into her head at that moment, she didn’t know. But it was perhaps her longest held dream; to know her father’s identity. She’d never felt more vulnerable and open to someone than she did right then.

He raised his head, the low light glinting off his hair. “Perhaps. Do you want to find out who he is?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know why I want to bring it up right now.” She shook her head.

Concern and understanding flitted through his eyes. “Your entire life has changed in the space of hours. And you’re finally in a place where you can find out who he is. You feel safe with me, and our magic is drawing us ever closer together.” He cupped her cheek. “My ego is a little bruised that you’re thinking so hard when I’m trying to seduce you. But I understand.”

She rolled her eyes. “Blame your friends. If they hadn’t been out there making a racket, I’d not have thought about it.” The long lines of his tattoos captivated her, and she traced them with her finger. “I don’t know if I want to know anymore. I thought it was important, that I needed to know my father’s name so that I would know who I was. But I know who I am. I’m Peyton Reynolds. Fae. Phooka rider. Member of the Wild Hunt.”

“I hope someday you’ll use my last name.” He touched her lips, and she nipped him. The shadows of the other Fae outside had disappeared. The undisguised hope, affection, and tenderness in his expression gave life to the first glimmers of love and true devotion in her heart. An answering glow pinged to her from him, and bursts of magic sparkled like fireworks between them.

“Peyton Coghlan? It’s not bad.” A twinkle entered her eyes and she tilted her hips. He rumbled at her, and she flushed. Using his last name appealed to her, but he could wait a while. “So, what are you going to do with this cock?”

“Oh, ready for another ride?” Pure male smugness colored his tone.

“I’ve been wanting to ride all day.” She scratched her nails down his abdomen, and he hissed.

“I’ll make it so good; you won’t ever want to stop.”

She twined her legs around his waist. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

“Well then,” he licked his way down to her right breast, and bit her nipple, “anything else can wait a little while longer.”

She arched her back, offering her breasts, and buried her fingers in his hair. Happiness crashed over her, and he canted his hips forward, seating his cock in deep and tight.

A new ride for a new beginning.

The End