by Vonna Harper
Table of Contents
Books by Vonna Harper
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Read more from Vonna Harper
Get your copy now
More exciting books!
About the Author
Totally Bound Publishing books by Vonna Harper
Single Books
Getting Laid
Cowboy Pickup
Her Red Corset
Everglades Awakening
Virgin Afternoon
His Invitation
Heat’s Night
Carnal Secrets
Naked Nights
Her Submission
Taking Her Down
HELD FOR THE STUD
VONNA HARPER
Held for the Stud
ISBN # 978-1-83943-536-2
©Copyright Vonna Harper 2021
Cover Art by Erin Dameron-Hill ©Copyright August 2021
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2021 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Totally Bound Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
A man determined to have his way. A woman in need of taming. The battle begins.
One look at the big, half-wild stallion and Asha vows to ride him. One look at the beautiful stranger sneaking toward his newly acquired stud and Banner vows to teach her that he’s in control.
Banner is a soldier, a man who has experienced little beyond weapons and war, but he and the men he’s responsible for need more than conflict. Otherwise they’ll lose what’s left of their humanity. He turns abandoned ranch land into an escape and offers it to battle-weary fighters.
Nothing will stand in his way, especially not the slight, determined woman who insists that only she can handle Koko. He won’t allow her to risk her life. When she disobeys, he disciplines her. Repeatedly.
Asha loathes the man who brought her, naked, to her knees, but her body isn’t listening.
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Skype: Skype Technologies
Jeep: Stellaris
Humane Society: Humane Society of the United States
Google: Google, Inc.
Chapter One
What I wouldn’t give to ride him.
His energy and power everywhere, me becoming part of him. Heat, endless heat. Wild all the way to his core. His body in absolute control. No fear or doubt. Potent.
Even with her heart’s jagged pace warning she might be having a stroke, Asha continued to stare at the prime example of maleness. She’d seen unwavering confidence before. Hell, she was pretty damn confident herself. But this…
Not wanting to miss a moment of this rare experience, she willed herself not to blink. The object of her admiration was far enough away that she doubted the stallion was aware of her, but even if he locked his dark eyes on her, she’d go on staring open-mouthed at him. She had no choice.
You don’t have to chase after them, she silently told the stud. Females will always do whatever they think it takes to convince you to breed with them. You can be selective. You assess and most times reject because you know there’ll always be another. Only the best will do.
Sweat pooled at the base of her throat while another kind of moisture soaked her panties’ crotch. From first glance she’d known she couldn’t be objective about him, but she hadn’t realized her reaction would be so primal.
She’d caress that sleek dark flesh, run her fingers through long, coarse hair, climb onto his back and ride him until there was nothing left of both of them.
As if reading her thoughts, the stallion stared at her, a front hoof furiously attacking the ground. He wasn’t quite coal black, but close, with a tail that swept the ground and a rich, thick mane. Do it, he seemed to say. Take the chance.
“You’re tempting me.”
He whinnied, the sound sharp. His muscles repeatedly knotted as he continued his attack.
“There’s a mare in heat somewhere, isn’t there? You sense her. Maybe you smell her.”
Barely aware of what she was doing, Asha jammed her hands in her jeans’ back pockets. The gesture tightened the fabric against her crotch and brought her attention back to herself. “Is that it? You’re primed for breeding? You can’t think of anything else. Hot blood runs through you all the time, keeping you keyed-up. You’d service an entire herd if they let you.”
Head high and thick neck arched, the stallion pranced closer. There was a wooden fence between them, but even if it hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have shied away.
“You don’t intimidate me. That’s because it’s possible I know more about how you’ll behave than you do. I respect you, but you need to do the same.”
The animal stopped and again beat at the ground. He shook his head, eyes showing more white now.
“You want to run, don’t you? Gallop without this corral hemming you in. Work off some of that energy. Believe me, I get it.”
Head now cocked to the side, the stallion seemed to be considering her proclamation. She took him to be a little over sixteen hands high and probably thirteen hundred pounds, the majority of it muscle. The way his coat shone, people who didn’t know horses would assume he got a lot of grooming, but his hooves were ragged, his mane and tail tangled.
“I’m guessing your coloring has a lot to do with why you were picked for stud service. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on. That’s why you aren’t out with the herd.”
Frowning, she fingered the lock on the corral door. She’d been looking for him since she’d ventured onto the mys
terious place known as Escape, her attention initially drawn to whistles and thuds. Thanks to her career, she’d concluded she was listening to an agitated or aroused horse. The sounds and air of energy had drawn her magnet-like to this remote section of the acreage.
“It probably doesn’t matter to you, but I’ve been listening to you for a while, feeling you in my muscles and bones, letting you command me.”
Command. Yes, that was what it had been. Like a starving woman with the scent of something on a barbeque filling her senses, she’d made the decision to let instinct have its way with her. She had no business being here, but who would run her off? At what she understood was over a hundred acres, chances were she was the only human on most of them. It hadn’t been called Escape for long. A lot of mystery surrounded who owned it. She figured farmers or ranchers acquired the land which was dotted with a couple of barns and a sprawling older house.
Not that she should give a damn.
Command.
Pushing her hair out of her eyes—someday, maybe, she’d figure out how to contain the auburn mass that reached the middle of her back—she gripped the top board and gave the stud her full attention. She wanted him, to own and ride him, to love him and earn his respect. She’d slip a rope around his muscled neck and guide him to a tree stump or boulder. Using his mane for leverage, she’d half haul and half boost herself onto him. She’d settle her crotch on his broad back and tighten her thighs against testosterone-filled muscles. She’d weave fingers made strong from a lifetime of physical labor into his mane, lean forward and whisper in his alert ears.
“Run for me. Race the wind. Gather your legs under you and take us over the fence. Free both of us. Gallop until your lungs heave and I’m hoarse from screaming my delight.”
Her breath snagged, her cheeks burned and her muscles bunched in reaction to what she was certain the stallion was capable of. Her already charged pussy got into the act, muscles clamping down. Her nipples hardened and she gave up trying to close her mouth.
As if reading her thoughts, the stallion pranced even closer. He was all sexual energy, every inch of him leaving no doubt that he’d been created to excel at one task. She’d seen more stallions than most people, but there was something outstanding about this creature.
“You’re making me crazy.”
She should ask herself if she really wanted to confide in the stallion, but right now it was too much effort. She started to drop to her knees in preparation for wriggling under the fence when a shiver of sensation along her spine stopped her. Was someone watching? Assessing and judging her? She looked left, right, behind her and as far into the distance as she could. She didn’t see anything worthy of alarm but she’d been in enough precarious situations that she knew better than to dismiss what her nerves were trying to tell her.
To hell with it! Touching the stallion was more important.
Breathing quickly, she wriggled under the fence. As she straightened, the stallion pranced back.
“You can’t be afraid of me. I know it isn’t that. You just have trouble containing all that energy. God, but you’re magnificent. Devil and angel in one package.”
Talking took too much effort so she concentrated on wiping dirt off her jeans. Thinking she probably wouldn’t see anyone today, she hadn’t bothered with a bra, but then she rarely wore one. She was a C-cup, which meant people would notice, but bras weren’t worth the expense when being true to herself meant so much. Her untethered breasts and hard-as-hell nipples were clearly visible under the wear-softened cotton T-shirt.
If she were one for introspection this would be when she’d question why she’d decided to spend her day off exploring Escape. However, between being more than a little worn down from the long hike and her reaction to the stallion, she wasn’t sure she knew what she was thinking.
“Do you know what the phrase sex appeal means?” she asked the stallion. “What a woman is trying to get a man to understand when she tells him she’s turned on? Going by my less-than-extensive experience, I’m not an expert when it comes to putting out the right vibes.”
She clamped down on a chuckle. Her suspicion that some man might have his eye on her right now had twisted her thinking a bit. So she wasn’t as experienced regarding the opposite sex as she’d like people to believe. That was her business and had nothing to do with the moment. If a man was watching, he could come to his own conclusion. It wasn’t as if she had to have anything to do with him.
She again slid her hands into her back pockets. Fabric tightened.
“I don’t know if I’m going to sleep tonight. I’m also not sure I care. Damn, but you’re beautiful. One of a kind.” She paused as a surge of something hot ran through her. “Right now, I’d give anything to be a mare.”
As if agreeing with her, the big, black, glistening creature stretched out a densely muscled neck. Holding her breath, she dragged her right hand out of her pocket and extended it toward him. Warm, moist air caressed her fingers and sent a fresh frisson of excitement into her.
“Will you let me ride you? I didn’t bring a bridle or saddle, but I’ve ridden bareback more times than otherwise. As for a bridle…”
The thought of pushing a metal bar between those white teeth made her shudder. She didn’t want to command him in any way. As long as she was astride him, he’d be in control. She’d trust him not to throw her, to know she preferred a canter over a trot and a gallop over everything else. Together they’d run like the proverbial wind and win every race.
The stud drew her fingers into his mouth. She embraced the moment.
“I know you. I think in some regard I always have.”
Tears she didn’t know she had in her burned. Blinking repeatedly, she struggled not to let them loose. When they continued to threaten, she withdrew her damp hand and stroked his neck where muscles and veins pulsed. Maybe she could go from standing flat-footed to being astride him on will alone. She tightened a hand around the rough mane and crouched in preparation for springing. Nothing else mattered. In one or two seconds she’d—
“Don’t even think it!”
Chapter Two
Angry and alarmed, Asha tightened her hold on the mane and looked over her shoulder. She would have let go if she hadn’t sensed the horse’s tension. His shivering muscles warned her to do what she could to calm him.
“Did you hear me?” the male stranger walking toward her demanded. “What the hell are you up to?”
Torn between animal and human, she struggled to keep the man in perspective. He didn’t own her. From what she could tell—and she could tell a lot about his physical condition—he wasn’t armed.
Far from it, she acknowledged as sunlight slid over his tan, naked chest. Men built like this were walking advertisements for power gyms. In-your-face hunks could be military, actors or professional athletes, maybe a member of some politician’s security detail. Given the unrest at the western border, he probably was a soldier—only shouldn’t he be there?
“Are you crazy?” he demanded. “Get away from him.”
“Is he yours?”
“That isn’t the point. I asked a question. Have you lost your fucking mind?”
Maybe she had. That would explain her current situation. Figuring the man out wasn’t just important—her life might depend on it. Border conditions, mostly ambushes and general fighting, had the entire military on edge. This man might have been in one too many battles and might have become unhinged.
“Look at him.” She stroked the stud’s hard neck. “He’s a bundle of pent-up energy. He needs to work it off. Otherwise, he’ll go rogue and really be dangerous.”
The corners of a mouth that was little more than a slit lifted. When he’d issued his first command, the intruder had been so far away she wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a lineup, but he’d taken long strides in her direction. Now he was almost where she’d been standing when she’d first acknowledged the stallion. The sun painted the man’s shoulders, arms and chest in gold
en hues and highlighted a mass of dark hairs over too-well-defined pectoral muscles. A chest like that existed for women to stare at.
No, not just stare. Touch. Caress. Run her mouth and tongue over.
Knock it off!
Gripping the fence, he leveled a don’t-try-anything-stupid glare at her. Moments ago, he’d made it clear he had little, if any, patience. Now his expression said he was content to watch her for the foreseeable future. However, that could change in a heartbeat, especially if he hadn’t been around women for a while. Granted, the military was integrated, but there were many more male than female soldiers.
“Why is he locked up?” she asked. “There’s barely enough room for him to turn around.” It was an exaggeration. The space was half as big as a football field, but still not large enough to contain the animal’s energy.
“That isn’t your concern. Now get the hell out of there before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?” Shut up. If you’re going to pick a fight, choose someone your size.
His mouth turned down. Whatever he’d found amusing was gone. She took note of how his knuckles whitened. He breathing was slow and deep, his chest expanding and expanding some more until her own did the same. He was wearing jeans and boots—she hadn’t noticed them before. The jeans rode too low on lean hips, giving her glimpses of his navel. Her imagination completed details she hoped to hell he couldn’t pick up on.
What she’d give to see if she was right about the size of his cock. No, not just see. Examine in detail. Hold and stroke. Put it—
“That’s it.” He spoke so slowly she wasn’t sure she’d heard everything he’d said. “You’ve had your last chance.”
“My chance for what?” Mister nameless and shirtless didn’t want her near the horse. She’d be well advised to make it clear she’d gotten the message.