Ride to Ecstasy

by Jory Strong

  Ride to Ecstasy

  Jory Strong

  A desperate escape from the water planet of Qumaar lands Karena on Adjara, a closed desert world where the scarcity of women means each has at least two mates. It’s her face lovers Zyan and Kaeden see when they undertake a vision quest to find the female meant to be theirs.

  Aroused beyond measure, awed at discovering she can communicate with horses, they’re more than ready to stake their claim in a carnal sharing of pleasure. But while capturing her body and enslaving it with passion is easy, happiness will depend on capturing her heart—and making her a willing prisoner to destiny.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Ride to Ecstasy

  ISBN 9781419931338

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Ride to Ecstasy Copyright © 2010 Jory Strong

  Edited by Kelli Collins

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication October 2010

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Ride to Ecstasy

  Jory Strong

  Chapter One

  Almost there, Zyan thought, excitement building with each step the stallion beneath him took toward the oasis. And then we’ll see the woman meant to be ours.

  A nudge and Copali moved closer to the mare Kaeden rode. She swished her tail to the side at the stud’s proximity.

  It was a coquettish gesture that had Copali arching his neck. And by the stud’s sudden prancing, Zyan knew the stallion’s penis was free of its sheath and fully extended.

  Kaeden turned in the saddle and immediately glanced down at Copali’s cock, heightening Zyan’s anticipation as he imagined Kaeden hardening beneath the light-colored material of his desert robe. The sight of a stallion on a mare never failed to get either of them in the mood, though in truth, since they’d reached the age where sexual exploration was both condoned and encouraged, the desire to fuck was never far from their minds.

  Zyan grinned. The mare was ready to breed and there was a bet riding on it—how many times Copali would mount her before she took—but more importantly it seemed a powerful omen that there would soon be a woman for the two of them to cover.

  “Do you think we’ll be granted a joining vision?” Kaeden asked, his question making it obvious his thoughts paralleled Zyan’s, and the mare’s imminent breeding had him also thinking of the female they sought to discover and make their third.

  Zyan touched the pouch tied to his belt. “We’ll be granted one.”

  On a planet full of males, in a society producing only male children, women were treasured in the same way water was. Every tribe had its own way of deciding which men were allowed a female, as well as how she was selected and matched to those men, and under what circumstances she could be brought back to Adjara.

  The Elsian found their women by undertaking a vision quest, and because he and Kaeden were lovers, the tribe’s mystic had given them a small gajaalo fruit to eat instead of the dried, crushed satoore berries the men who’d formed platonic pairs were given to snort.

  Both gajaalo and satoore brought clarity, a joining of minds so those in a recognized union could glimpse the future, and see in it the woman who would become their third. But where the satoore offered vision alone, the red fruit of the gajaalo plant had the added benefit of being a powerful aphrodisiac.

  Zyan and Kaeden stopped the mare and stud at the edge of a small oasis while the gray filly running free with them trotted to the water. Kaeden dismounted, converting reins to a lead rope with the freeing of a knot. He led the mare forward, unsaddling her beneath a date palm before removing the breeding hobbles from a pack attached to the back of the saddle.

  Zyan kept a tight hold on the stallion as Kaeden attached the soft bindings to the mare’s back legs, then ran a strap forward and circled it around her neck so she could be bred without the risk of her injuring the stallion with a kick. It was a precaution only. He thought it unlikely the mare would protest the breeding.

  The stallion’s nostrils flared. He shook his head, sending his silken mane flying. Danced in place at seeing the hobbled mare, well versed in what it meant for him.

  Muscles rippled against Zyan’s legs, Copali’s excitement and anticipation feeding his own, and for much the same reason. The mare had been trained to the hobbles and bred before while wearing them. She stood calmly, accepting the restraint, and Zyan’s cock hardened as he imagined binding a woman in silken ropes, symbolic rather than necessary for her compliance.

  With the ease of someone who’d ridden before he walked, Zyan dismounted and stripped away the saddle. He laughed softly, thinking he should take the time to untie the bedroll and stretch it out on the sand because he was very sure it would soon be in use. They’d played a game of tiles to determine which one of them would ride the mare, both knowing if she went into full season on the trek to the oasis, the one on top of her would soon find himself mounted and breached.

  “I’m ready to put him to her,” Zyan said.

  “Do it.”

  Kaeden stood at the mare’s head, continuing to hold the lead rope in case she panicked though neither of them expected it. Nor did they worry Copali would require a man on either side to control him. Right from the start he’d proven himself trustworthy and had never once threatened his handlers or the mares he covered.

  The stud’s neck arched in a show of strength and perfection. His cock dripped in his excitement, pulsed and quivered, making Zyan acutely conscious of his own as he took the steps necessary to bring Copali in range.

  There was no foreplay between the two horses.

  A snort and scream.

  An answering squeal from the mare and Copali was on her, finding her opening and burying his hard length all the way inside her.

  He thrust in a fast, furious rush, driven by instinct and genetic imperative rather than by pleasure. And dismounted immediately after depositing his seed.

  His sides heaved, as did hers. Zyan and Kaeden kept their positions as the horses regained their strength and breath.

  The mare signaled her readiness by swishing her tail. She canted it to the side, her vulva opening and closing, inviting the stallion to penetrate her for a second time.

  Copali answered her call by rearing, his cock a long, thick spear. He came down on her back, front legs tight against her as he maneuvered into position.

  The second mating was as energetic and as brief as the first, with Copali ejaculating then dismounting, his cock remaining extended and firm.

  His muscles quivered. It took longer for his sides to stop heaving.

  “She’ll take this ti
me,” Kaeden said, his voice husky with arousal and anticipation.

  Horses on Adjara were different than those on other worlds. Mares went out of season as soon as fertilization occurred, and it happened quickly due to the stallion’s ability to deliver his sperm close to the womb opening.

  Most pregnancies ended in reabsorption rather than a live birth. It was nature’s way on a world with few resources and limited natural predators. But for today the only outcome that mattered was the breeding, and Kaeden had picked three as his lucky number. If the mare took this time, Zyan would be the one to drop to his knees, not for a mounting, but to take Kaeden’s cock in his mouth and pleasure him.

  Copali once again rose onto his hind legs and covered the mare. The third breeding was the shortest, and by the time the horses were breathing normally, the mare had clamped her tail and swung her rear away.

  Understanding the signal, and perhaps the change in scent, Copali’s cock retracted and he hung his head, hiding his fatigue by nipping at the short oasis grass.

  Zyan rubbed the stallion’s neck, letting him graze while Kaeden took the breeding hobbles off the mare, dropping them next to his bedroll and retrieving a rope. With a toss he sent one end of it to Zyan, who tied it to a nearby tree while Kaeden did the same at water’s edge, creating a picket line.

  They tied both mare and stallion. There was little risk the filly would leave her companions.

  Kaeden’s cock was rock hard and had been since the moment the oasis had come into view. Thoughts of the joining vision and the possibility of adding a female were responsible for the state of his arousal, but only in part.

  He always anticipated those moments when responsibility fell away and he and Zyan could make love. And it was love, a fierce claiming of heart and soul and body.

  Kaeden rubbed the place over his heart. Though he wanted a woman, wanted children of a shared mate, he worried at how it would change things between Zyan and him.

  Despite Zyan’s confidence, there was no guarantee a woman would be shown to them in their vision. And even if one was, they couldn’t be certain of convincing her to return with them.

  Kidnapping was an option. There were no laws requiring a woman be willing when it came to bringing her back to Adjara. But change didn’t come easily to him, and the thought of forcing an unwanted one on a woman didn’t sit well, even though he couldn’t think of a single female who wasn’t happy with the men who shared her, or with the life she’d found with them on this world.

  “You worry too much,” Zyan said, his face only inches away and still hidden except for his eyes and a narrow swath of skin.

  He’d moved closer while Kaeden was distracted by his thoughts. And now Zyan’s nearness guaranteed there would be no return to them—not for a while.

  Kaeden’s cock pulsed and his testicles felt heavy and full. His nipples were hard points in anticipation of having Zyan’s mouth on them. It wasn’t part of the bet, but Zyan never went directly to his knees, not when it came to delivering on a promise of oral sex.

  “Time to pay up,” Kaeden said, voice husky.

  Zyan laughed. “Like this? With all this material between us?” His fingers zeroed in on Kaeden’s tight nipples. “It’s your choice, I guess. You’ll soon be the one on his hands and knees.”

  Kaeden moaned with the first squeeze. Pain and pleasure, desire and need commingling as fire streaked downward to his cock.

  The muscles of his abdomen went taut and his breath grew as short as the mare’s had been. “I can wait a few minutes before you make good on the bet.”

  “I thought you might.” Amusement shone in Zyan’s eyes.

  Wordlessly they crossed to where the saddles lay on the sand, bedrolls still tied to their cantles. With quick movements they created a soft place to linger in comfort beneath the shade of the date palm.

  Robes fell away at the edge of the bedding, revealing tanned skin and hardened bodies. And like all the men on Adjara, arms marked with tribal tattoos, the tracing of lineage along with words and symbols denoting personal accomplishments.

  Though he’d seen Zyan naked at dawn, before they’d dressed and sought out the mystic, Kaeden still paused to look at his lover, to appreciate his sheer masculine beauty.

  Zyan’s hair flowed down his back in rich shades of brown. His muscles were a sleek, smooth flow uninterrupted except for the tuft of pubic hair, and beneath it, a rigid cock.

  Zyan’s hand dropped to his organ and he began masturbating. Fist moving up and down on his shaft. “Put your mouth on me. Suck me.”

  Kaeden licked his lips, then did it again when moisture beaded on the tip of Zyan’s penis. His knees threatened to buckle and the heat shimmering off the desert sands was nothing compared to the heat pouring off his skin, the searing desire burning in his bloodstream and pooling in his testicles, ready to escape in a hot eruption of seed.

  “Suck me,” Zyan said again, buttocks clenching and back arching. Thrusting through his closed hand rather than pumping himself with it.

  Kaeden grasped his own cock and the feel of his hand on it freed him from carnal thrall. “Nice try,” he said, laughing as he spread his legs in a stance that would keep him upright. “But this is the bet I won. Pay up, unless you’d rather exchange having me on my knees now for my being on them later, when you play the part of the stud.”

  Zyan moved in, releasing his cock in favor of putting his arms around Kaeden and pulling him close. “I nearly had you,” he said, suppressing a moan as the back of Kaeden’s hand bushed against his throbbing penis, and then again when Kaeden changed the angle of his stokes so the head of his cock rubbed Zyan’s.

  Kaeden’s lips touched his. “Trade one victor’s prize for another and you still can.” Kaeden’s tongue darted out in a sensuous lick. “I’ll make you come with my mouth, then again with my cock inside you.”

  Zyan shuddered in pleasure at having the tables turned on him. Whether he said yes or no, there was never a true loser when it came to the sexual games they played, to the bets they made with one another.

  He conceded his loss, going slowly to his knees. Stopping to bite and lick and suck on his way down.

  The Elsian circumcised their men, a custom few of the other tribes followed. Zyan often thought it’s what made them so desperate to fuck through tight lips and sheathe themselves in the heated, wet cavern of a lover’s mouth. But if he knew that desperation, then so did Kaeden. With the single touch of his tongue against Kaeden’s hardened cock, Kaeden moaned and panted, thrust his hips as he curled over Zyan and ordered, “Suck me.”

  “When I’m ready.”

  Meaning, When you’ve begged enough.

  Zyan was merciless, their years together making him an expert in delivering sensual torment. He used his tongue and lips to reduce Kaeden to a state where his buttocks clenched, where he fucked through his own hand, humping and rubbing the tip of his penis against moistened lips, desperately seeking an opening.

  Only when Zyan’s own testicles were pulled tight in warning, his penis throbbing with impending release, did he take Kaeden’s arousal-wet cock head between his lips.

  Laving, sucking, he turned Kaeden’s earlier tone of demand into one of pleading. Then yielded to it by taking Kaeden’s full length, swallowing again and again until Kaeden came on a cry that was as sharp as a falcon’s.

  The force of Kaeden’s release drove him downward, onto his knees, and Zyan tumbled him forward onto his hands. It took only seconds to apply the lubrication they were never without, though Zyan’s cock was wet enough to provide it if they had been.

  He positioned himself behind Kaeden, one hand going around, grasping Kaeden’s semirigid cock, the other spreading Kaeden’s buttocks.

  Zyan pressed his cock head to the dark rosette of Kaeden’s entrance. There was resistance. Always. But that only intensified the carnal pleasure of the taking, forcing him to work himself in with short thrusts, then deeper ones, his penetration making them both moan and pant and tremble.r />
  His buttocks clenched and unclenched in movement, in reaction to the merciless squeezing of Kaeden’s tight anal muscles. Would it be different with a woman? Better?

  Zyan didn’t know. He knew only that he loved this, loved Kaeden, and couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t crave the physical intimacy they shared.

  He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the pleasure of it. Hips pumping, his hand stroking Kaeden’s length.

  They moved against one another, cocks growing harder, bodies tensing, and then finally, finding relief in the shuddering release of orgasm.

  On a grunt Zyan pulled from Kaeden’s depths. But instead of collapsing onto the bedding to rest for a few moments as he often did after lovemaking, he said, “A bath first, and then we eat the gajaalo fruit and seek a glimpse of our third?”

  Kaeden’s eyes met his. “Yes.”

  * * * * *

  Karena slipped into the dressing room. It was little more than a closet, but she was grateful for the privacy it afforded her from the other jockeys and the chance it gave her to gather her nerves.

  There were always nerves, especially before a race, but today they were worse. Today they were so bad the continuous fluttering in her chest made it feel as if a bird was trapped there. Today her stomach was so tightly knotted she wouldn’t be surprised to weigh in pounds heavier than normal.

  Something was going on with her father, some plot involving her. From the day her psi gift manifested, and with it, her worth to the family became known, she’d been free to come and go without guards. But not today. Today she hadn’t been allowed to leave the house without escorts.

  That alone was enough to stir her fear. She wasn’t like her older sisters, talented beauties who could pick and choose which parties to attend and which men were allowed to court them. They were assets to the family, while she was…nothing.