Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) (11 page)

He watched her consider everything he’d revealed. “Why are they setting forest fires?”

“From what I scanned—” He halted, realizing he’d let something else out about who he was. But she nodded for him to continue. Her eyes were huge, her face markedly pale in the limited illumination of the room. “There are several reasons why. The origin points of the fires are like X marks the spot for a treasure of mineral deposits. Once the arson inspectors do their job and leave, no one is likely to hike into that part of the forest. Plus, it keeps the animal population away. They’re also using the firestorms to prove their dominance in the area over the drug runners and the coyotes bringing in illegals.”

“My firestorm is bigger and badder than your firestorm?” She sighed her sorrow. “It’s all so horrible.”

“I have to stop them.”

His words spilled into the brief silence. He’d spoken because she needed to know. And, he needed her to know.

“How?” she demanded.

Rolling on his side toward her, he immersed his gaze in the wary brilliance of hers. Searching, he found her tender heart for him shimmering beneath, despite how she’d been hurt in the past. “Before I decide on a plan, I’ll investigate their operation, look for the weak points. First, we’ll get your amulets back.”

She sighed, then shook her hair, her attitude dispirited. “What’s the point, now? If the amulets are keys to operate some kind of ancient mining machinery—”

“Because,” he interrupted, “they could fall into the wrong hands. Underneath us right now, deep in the Earth, are antediluvian machines used to core out giant tunnels. Whoever gets hold of those amulets will gain control of the Anunnaki technology used to mine gold, and they’ll be able to reach those machines.”

“Do you mean unfriendly alien races or the shadow government bastards here?” Her fiery anger against all the lies told to the general public glittered in her eyes, and could have rivaled the wrath of Pele’s volcanoes.

“Either one, or both. There are alien races in collusion with the ‘shadow government bastards.’”

She nodded, the set of her chin resolute. “You said only I can recover the amulets. What do you mean?”

“The Fystites didn’t physically touch the amulets when they stole them. They used a specialized plasma field. Only you can touch them, Seneca.”

She shook her head, mystified. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why steal them if no one else can touch them?”

“They never have to be touched directly. The plasma field can fit like a glove.”

“Okay, even if I accept that reality, why would the amulets bind to my touch, for lack of a better word?”

“A safety measure by the Anunnaki, or whoever brought them to the cave. Possibly to make certain they would remain with whoever claimed them.”

“Well, it didn’t work, did it?” she asked, her tone sour. “Oh, no,” she gasped softly.

“What?” Trail grasped her upper arm, stroking.

“One time Rory was studying the amulets. When he reached for one of them, he felt a shock, as if he’d touched a hot wire used for electric fencing. He also said every time he thought about looking at them, he’d feel a sense of dread. I just thought the amulets had picked up someone’s negative emotions.”

Trail hauled her against him as she trembled violently. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.

“Just how are we supposed to get the amulets back?” she asked, her voice muffled by his chest.

Hearing the slight chatter of her teeth, he embraced her more tightly. She was tough, but not this tough. Life hadn’t prepared her for the worlds he knew about, for the situation they were now in. Hell, she wasn’t prepared for him. Damn, in pawing truth, he hadn’t been prepared for how deeply she affected him. How much he loved her.

“I
do
have a plan, using my amazing alien powers,” he crooned teasingly.

She hesitated, her breath pausing, but not her tremors. “What amazing alien powers?”

“My cloaking power. I can make us invisible for a time. Long enough to break and enter.” He kept his tone light, hoping that would ease her.

She squirmed impatiently, but didn’t resist his hold. “Long enough to sneak up on them, then break and enter?”

Doubt rang in her voice like a fire truck’s siren.

“They won’t be expecting us—”

“What do you mean?” she interrupted. Fiercely agitated, she twisted around in his arms, still shivering. Yet, she didn’t leave his embrace, and his groin certainly appreciated the press of her ass cheeks.

“Seneca, I know you don’t know me,” he began.

“I know your cock seems to be enjoying my butt,” she snarked. “Oh, god, now what? Am I just supposed to trust you?” She thumped her head down on a pillow. “No, stud. Hell, I don’t know you. Except biblically,” she added as an afterthought. “Dammit, I wouldn’t know you if, if you were only human. How could I know you if you’re some kind of alien being?”

Strange as her logic was to his ear, she had a point. As pointed as his lengthening shaft.

“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.