Stallions

by Jade Carr

  Resigned and excited, she realized she was no longer trying to deny what she'd seen.

  "What are you?" she managed.

  "I don't know," he whispered.

  "I don't understand."

  "Neither do I."

  Mystery packed on mystery. She needed answers and explanations, but maybe there weren't any words for what was happening. Maybe if she could focus on more than Nokoni's physical package, she could make a stab at comprehension. Help him understand.

  "I don't have any idea what I'm looking at." She didn't know what to do with her arms. "You changed form. I tried to tell myself I was hallucinating, but I wasn't."

  He took a step toward her, a single, nonthreatening step. The sun had turned his hair into a shining stream of black obsidian that ended a little beyond his shoulders. She'd always loved her own thick, healthy hair, but his was more, somehow. As for the muscle, bone, and skin beneath the white T-shirt he wore—she'd never seen more perfect shoulders. Either that, or none had ever made such an impact on her.

  She was turned on, beyond hot and bothered, flipped upside down and out of breath. It was the way his jeans painted his hips and thighs, the T-shirt disappearing beneath the waistband to draw her attention there and what lay between his legs. Even with all that, there was more than just the physical at work here.

  His boot crunched against gravel, warning her that he'd taken another step. She still had time to run away and salvage what was left of her sanity.

  Or she could stay.

  "Are you looking for Ahote?" she asked.

  "Not now."

  She should ask if he'd turned that task over to Hah-Tee. "You saw Red run." Damn it, she was babbling. "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

  "Yes."

  Of course. You're probably capable of the same thing.

  She'd managed to stop clenching and unclenching her hands, but now they didn't have enough to do. She moved her hands to her jeans' waistband.

  "What do you mean, yes?" she asked. "I know horses. What Red accomplished today has never been done. I'll guarantee you that."

  "You haven't looked in the right place."

  He'd started to frown before he finished speaking. Did that mean he regretted saying what he had? Oh, God, he too had looped his thumbs over his waistband so his hands framed his cock.

  She wanted him. Needed him. Might die if she couldn't feel him inside her.

  What is this, she silently demanded as her sex juices bathed her panties. Some spell only creatures like you are capable of?

  "Any minute," he said, "someone is going to come here."

  "True."

  "But there's time."

  "For—"

  "You know. Don't pretend you don't."

  She swallowed. "I do."

  Instead of asking if she was saying what he thought and hoped she was, Nokoni lifted his head and turned it to the side.

  All those years of being calm, collected, and focused and suddenly she was shaking like some virgin on prom night. Tomorrow was about reality. Hell, reality might return in minutes, but this was now. And now revolved around the hot energy snapping between them.

  Holding her breath, she listened intently. No nearby human voices or sounds reached her. She pulled her blouse out of her waistband. He did the same. Her fingers weakened, yet she managed to unfasten her jeans and tug down the zipper. He followed suit.

  "Are you sure?" She indicated their surroundings.

  "We're the only ones here."

  "You're sure?"

  He jerked his head. "Trust my senses."

  This wasn't happening. She, a respected member of the press, believed in professionalism. Some crazy, primitive alter ego had shoved the real her aside and was doing these insane things.

  Maybe. Maybe not. All she knew was she didn't give a damn why she was undoing her blouse buttons. She hated that she was trembling, but she'd continue to do what the animal in her demanded.

  "Have you ever…" Her question trailed off. Ever didn't belong in this place full of silenced amusement.

  Nokoni hauled his T-shirt over his head in one swift movement. After dropping it on the ground, he loosened his jeans' hold on his waist. She stared. How could she put her mind to the rest of her blouse buttons now that he'd exposed his chest?

  Somewhere off in the distance, people applauded. Standing on unsteady legs and looking at a chest sculpted by a master artist, she remembered when that applause had been for Red. When Red ran, Terena had felt utterly alive. For those few seconds, only the hooves pounding on packed dirt and sinuous muscles propelling the animals sleek body had mattered. Now she stared at Nokoni's chest, shoulders, arms, and waist.

  She was a woman, Nokoni a man. He was close to a half foot taller than she. She didn't stand a chance against his superior strength.

  Not that she wanted to try.

  Not when those beautifully carved muscles and the faint outline of his ribs and hip bones called to her.

  Her feet, ankles, and calves tingled. She ended the distance between Nokoni and her. His thumbs pulled down on his waistband, increasing her view of the V framing his cock. White cotton strained to keep him covered. Not long ago, Her mouth had gone dry a few minutes ago upon her first look at his bare chest. Now, moisture flooded it. Wetness of another kind soaked her panties.

  It was like Christmas morning. A present to end all presents, waiting for her to open it.

  The numbness in her feet and legs spread to her hands, but that didn't stop her. Her need was too strong.

  She took hold of Nokoni's wrists and drew them away from his jeans. She didn't concern herself with what he might do with his hands, barely reacted when he took over unbuttoning the blouse buttons she hadn't yet dealt with. When he was done, he slid his fingers under her blouse and rested them against her waist. His calloused palms pressed on her hip bones.

  A whimper built low in her throat. She fought to keep it from escaping. Nokoni was more than a stranger, more than a man, yet neither of those things mattered.

  But first, the essential. First, feeding off her heat and reaching his.

  A pins-and-needles sensation continued to stab at her fingers as she closed them around his waistband and tugged his jeans down his hips. His white briefs contrasted with his dark flesh. She wanted to see what waited beneath the fabric, but she rolled her knuckles over the hard ridge first.

  They breathed in unison, their exhalations ragged and quick. Sweat bloomed on her forehead, cheeks, and neck. He let go of her long enough to push his jeans down around his knees and then guided her hands to his briefs. She started to draw out the elastic in preparation for setting his cock free.

  "No," he warned. "Wait."

  "I don't want to." She dug her nails into his briefs.

  Nokoni pushed her blouse back so it hung off her arms then grabbed her bra and hauled it up over her breasts. Elastic pressed down on them and distorted their shape. Her hard nipples jutted. He cupping her left breast and lifted it as high as the bra allowed. She silently begged him to take her breast into his mouth. No easy chore, considering their height difference. Instead, he slid his rough fingers down her breast and took hold of her nipple. He drew it toward him.

  Despite the erratic distraction, she increased her hold on his briefs and pulled out and down. The fabric hung up on his erection. She wrapped a hand around his cock and drew it into the sunlight. He hadn't been circumcised. True to his Native American blood, only a few dark hairs dusted his groin area, and his chest was close to hairless.

  Leaning close, she touched her lips to his chest muscles. He shivered, and a low groan rumbled from his chest. The sound made her think of the cry she'd once heard a stud make as he was led to a mare he'd been chosen to service. She extended her tongue and licked. He shuddered and sucked in his belly.

  "Careful," he muttered.

  "Don't you like this?" She spoke with her mouth inches from his chest.

  "Ah, shit. Shit."

  Nokoni wasn't a we
ll-experienced lover. Either that, or it had been a long time since he'd last mated with—

  Mated? What was she thinking? This was sex, plain and simple.

  Maybe.

  Something scraped along her hips. She tried to break free then stopped when she realized Nokoni was pulling her jeans down. As he'd done with his own garment, he left it around her knees.

  Private parts being exposed. A quickie. In and out.

  Good, she assured herself. Nokoni spread his hands over her buttocks and, catching her off balance, drew her toward him with his cock caught between them. A little blind lust briefly uniting strangers. Wham bam, thank you, and both parties on their way.

  Only that wasn't what she wanted.

  A burning sensation started in the small of her back. Much as she wanted to turn herself over to the hunger between her legs, as long as her back remained this deeply arched, she couldn't.

  "Wait." She planted her hands against his belly and shoved.

  He held her in place. "What?"

  "My back." She tried to twist to the side. "It hurts."

  He allowed her to straighten but kept her under his control by closing his strong, broad fingers around her waist. His cockhead probed her belly.

  Another downward yank and her panties joined her jeans. Oh, God, he had his hand between her legs!

  A moment ago, she'd been strong—at least she'd thought she was—but his hand on her sex nearly destroyed her. Her knees threatened to melt. When his thumb slipped between her labia and kissed her clit, she nearly died.

  There. His shoulders. Something to hold on to.

  Seeing little beyond a blur and with her whole body dissolving, she clung to his strength while he repeatedly dipped his thumb inside. Again and again, he painted her pussy with the moisture that flowed out of her.

  Her breasts throbbed. Her throat threatened to close down. Oh my God, someone needed to tell her if she was dying, because right now, she couldn't put her mind to something so unimportant.

  A man who—maybe—could turn into a stallion had drawn her into his sensual circle. He'd exposed vital parts of her but hadn't bothered to strip her because they were only going to have quick sex.

  She'd swayed. He wrapped his free arm around her waist to help steady her. His hand continued its intimate exploration, diving into her, retreating, invading once more. His rough finger stretched her channel. Granted, it was nothing like would happen once they were having sex, but promising. Very promising. Teasing, taunting even, taking bites at her sanity.

  She winced as a sharp cry slid past her throat. His sandpaper-like fingertip skated along her sex while moisture ran out of her, over him, even down the insides of her thighs. Her arms burned, but she didn't dare slacken her hold on his neck. Her calves protested every time she lifted herself onto her toes, yet she kept doing so. Nokoni, a stranger, bent over her as if trying to cradle her. Protect me. Keep reality from reaching us.

  "This isn't enough," he said. "We have to…"

  Shaking off a few of the cobwebs that had taken over her mind, she looked around. They'd have to do this standing up. That should work, though, because he was tall and she was short.

  "There." She jerked her head at an upended ride seat. The top looked flat and sturdy enough for her to stand on.

  When he gave no indication he'd heard, she tried to move in that direction, but between her tangled jeans and his still-embedded finger, she couldn't move. He slowly pulled his finger out of her and wiped his hand on her breast. Warm air started to dry the moisture, leaving her sticky and even more aroused. She took hold of his wrist, brought his hand up to her mouth, and licked it.

  His breathing continued its quick cadence.

  Was she crazy? Crazy to want to have sex with a man she didn't know, a potentially dangerous male? A stallion.

  Nokoni wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her, and took an awkward step toward the seat. She couldn't help but think how they must look with their asses and privates exposed while their jeans hobbled them.

  He deposited her on the seat, and she wrapped her arms around his neck again. Nothing else mattered.

  He kept her in place with his arm against her back. He guided his cock between her legs.

  Sex. They were going to have sex. Here. Now. With the sun beating down on the tops of their heads. Her breath hissing, she widened her stance as much as she could and offered herself to him. His heated strength pressed against her. She took in another hissing breath and offered herself to him even more. There. Nokoni's cock found her opening and slid past her outer tissues. Sliding home.

  She felt herself open up to him. Then her body gave way even more as he went deeper. Every inch of her core welcomed him. Some thought or caution nagged at her, but it faded. She was hungry and lonely, needing something she'd never had. She didn't care that allowing Nokoni to get this close would change her.

  A fever claimed her and took her far inside herself. She became selfish and needy as he thrust against her. His cock branded every part of her sex channel until his gift became her world. When he drew back a little, she locked her knees.

  Nokoni came at her again, his balls slapping her flesh. Digging her nails into his neck, she arched her back. Her breasts throbbed from the pressure her bra caused. After forcing himself deep inside, he again withdrew and paused. As she knew he would, he hammered into and against her. A keening cry ripped out of her.

  She knew what fucking entailed. The damn self-absorbed man would repeatedly thrust himself at her, groaning until he'd brought himself to the edge. Finally, past caring what the woman experienced, he'd spill into her.

  Fine. Let him. She was in her own world.

  She offered herself up to him. Her interest narrowed as parts of her slid apart and evaporated. Fist-like pressure ground into her belly.

  Too late! All restraint gone. The goal everything.

  Clinging to him, she fed off him. He'd dismissed what made him a civilized being and had become an animal, a simple, primitive creature. Loving the emerging beast, Terena dug her nails into him. Her legs strained.

  One. A single unit. Sealed belly to belly, sex to sex, thighs to thighs. Arms around each other and fire lapping.

  A groaning cry exploded from him. At first she didn't care, was too deep inside her impending climax for anything except self-absorption. Then she realized he was pulling out.

  His discharge gushed over her belly and ran into her pubic hair.

  She came.

  Chapter 6

  You didn't use protection," she said. "That's why you withdrew."

  Instead of responding, Nokoni placed his flaccid cock in his briefs and pulled up his jeans. She wasn't sure where he'd dropped his T-shirt, not that she was in any hurry to lose sight of his naked chest.

  After staring at her for a moment, he held out his hand. She took hold of it and lowered herself to the ground She let go of him and put her bra back in place. Her breasts felt too large for the C cups. Rational thinking was returning, at least enough that she would be able to speak. She supposed she should be concerned with her jeans, but the longer she left her belly and mons exposed, the more of his discharge would dry.

  She didn't feel dirty or used, just confused.

  "Don't you carry condoms?" she asked.

  He frowned. "No."

  She drew her blouse over her shoulders and started buttoning. "Why not? You think that's the woman's job?"

  "I didn't think," he said after a pause.

  Nodding, she acknowledged that should have been her line. Darn it, she knew to be responsible and safe when it came to sex. Granted she didn't always carry condoms, but she'd never had sex without first addressing protection. To her way of thinking, women who boasted they'd been carried away by passion were either stupid or deluding themselves.

  Which, then, was she today?

  "You aren't ovulating," he said.

  "What? How can you be sure?" She'd been about to tell him about her IUD.

  "I just
know."

  Of course he did. A stallion was hardwired to sense such things.

  She waited for the voice of reason to declare she didn't know what she was talking about, but it remained silent. Nokoni was both a man and a stallion, as was Hah-Tee. She had to get used to it.

  No problem. Well, maybe a little. Or a lot.

  Reaching down, he plucked his T-shirt off the ground. To keep from focusing too closely while he covered himself, she pulled her panties back in place and then her jeans. With his ejaculate on her, she should be crazy desperate for a shower.

  She was crazy, all right. Out of her mind.

  More distant clapping from the race stands brought her back to reality. This man she'd just fucked would be leaving. She'd never see him again.

  Maybe.

  "What happens now?" she asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  His eyes had taken on a shadowed appearance, maybe because he was trying to keep something from her—like vulnerability?

  Enough with the psychoanalyzing. You suck at it.

  "You got what you wanted from me." Angry at herself, she held up her hand. "Forget I said that. I wanted sex as much as you did. I have no business playing the wronged-female role." Her admission behind her, she worked at gathering more of her intellect around her. It would be easier if she'd fully wrapped her mind around the fact that she'd just had sex with a man who barely brushed the edges of her world. Who might have no understanding of her world.

  "I'm talking about my cousin." Nokoni stood some fifteen feet away, yet it wasn't nearly enough. "You say he stole Red from you." Or something like that. "Are you going to call the cops?"

  "No."

  Had she already asked the question? Maybe she'd only thought it. Either way, his single word wasn't enough.

  Except she wasn't responsible for Ahote. In fact, going by today's performance, pure recklessness described how she was handling her own life. She was in no shape to handle someone else's business.

  "That's it, then?" she asked. "No reason for our paths to ever cross again."