Mi Toro

by Brenna Zinn

  I had to exert myself and regain the upper hand. He was my model. My paid subject. No man, especially one working for me, should have this kind of power. But my body, now captivated by the pleasure of his touch, wouldn’t concede. With each brush of his fingers, I lost myself even further. I was a shipwrecked soul, drowning in my own need for sexual fulfillment.

  “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

  My breathing became a labored pant. My legs wobbled beneath me. Every muscle ached for release. “Please, Cordova. I can’t take anymore.”

  Cordova nibbled my earlobe. “Tell me.”

  I wanted to scream. He had me, body and conquered spirit. There was nothing I could do but admit my defeat. “Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”

  With little effort, Cordova lifted me in his arms, tucking me close to his broad chest. His spicy scent, intensified by the heat radiating from his body, further weakened my resistance. I fought the urge to nuzzle and suck his neck, to take in as much of the erotic smell and taste of him as I could.

  He laid me on the edge of the bed so that my legs dangled over the side. Standing back, he placed his hands on his hips and raked over my naked body with an unyielding stare. When he found my boots, the dark, smoldering look in his eyes appeared to ignite. His chest heaved as he took in several short breaths. He then spoke something in Spanish, in a voice so low it sounded like a prayer.

  His strong response to me and my boots shot up my pulse. Heated blood thrummed through every inch of me, but my heart stopped when he stepped in between my knees and ran his strong hands up my legs. With no fanfare, he kneeled before me and lightly sucked the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh, causing goose bumps to form over my skin. Continuing on, he kissed and nipped at my exposed flesh in an uncharted path up to my wet pussy. When I felt his tongue flick over my clit, I couldn’t hold back a moan.

  Cordova broke off his blissful torture. “Do you wish me to stop, senorita?”

  I glanced down, taking in the handsome Spaniard who was turning my world upside down. Though his eyes maintained a deep intensity, the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. He had me just where he wanted and was going to make me beg.

  “Don’t you dare stop,” I growled, digging my fingers into his long silky hair.

  A grin spread across his face, and he laughed for a moment. The low resonating sound vibrated over my mons, making me want to squirm. He covered my aching nub in his mouth and swirled the tender kernel with his tongue. Back and forth, again and again, his lithe tongue licked my pussy.

  “Yes, that’s it. Don’t stop,” I pleaded.

  He lifted his head and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Ah, but I must. It is time, no?”

  “Time?” My head spun. The gripping pang between my thighs cluttered my thoughts. “Time for what?”

  “For the picture.” Cordova righted himself, then stepped over to my backdrop.

  “Now? You want me to take your picture now?” Incredulous, I sat up on the side of the bed and pushed my thick mane of hair away from my face.

  “Si. Now.” He placed one hand on his hip, the other extended as if holding a cape. He slightly arched his back, raised his chin and narrowed his dark eyes.

  At that moment, I saw a bull fighter, proud and resplendent. His long, lean muscles emanated power and grace, making him appear larger than life. His cock, full and erect, looked just as magnificent and impressive as the man.

  I flicked on the studio lights and grabbed my camera from the desk, not wanting to miss a single shot. I had to capture the silent dignity and the raw, virile strength radiating from his pose.

  For several minutes I lost myself to my photography, snapping off pictures as though trying to catch a glimpse of his inner being with my lens, wanting to be closer to him than a mere touch would allow. He fascinated me, inspired me, stirred creative juices within me I had long forgotten.

  Just as suddenly as he left the bed and began posing, he stopped and stepped away from the backdrop, removed the camera from my hands and kissed me.

  I closed my eyes, focusing on the wonderful feel of his lips and the crush of his strong body against mine.

  “I cannot wait any longer, mi belleza. I must have you now.” He returned to his pants, pulled a condom from his wallet and ripped the foil package with his teeth.

  Cordova made to unroll the skin-colored rubber over his thick dick, but I stopped him. “No. I want to.”

  I knelt before him and placed the sheathed tip of his cock between my lips while smoothing the condom over his extended length. After positioning one hand at the base of his shaft, I placed the other around his throbbing cock and stroked while my mouth sucked. To accentuate my movement and suction, I bobbed my head, taking in his entire substantial dick.

  He reached down, ran a hand through my hair until his fingers reached the back of my head. Using his hips, he pumped his exquisite cock deep in my mouth. “Que linda.”

  Over and over again, I licked and sucked, stroked and kneaded, until the tip of his cock grew incredibly large.

  “Alto. That’s enough.”

  He raised me to my feet and guided me backward until the desk pressed against my legs.

  His hands grabbed the underside of my bottom, then he lifted just enough to slid his hard cock inside my slick wet folds. In one velvety movement, Cordova completely filled me, making me whole. The breath I didn’t know I was holding escaped in a quiet rasp.

  His thick member pulsed and throbbed, sending rousing vibrations throughout my core. Wanting maximum intensity of this sensual bliss, I writhed and arched against him. Every movement I made was matched by his.

  I glided my hands under his arms and up his back until my fingers reached the top of his shoulders. There I grabbed hold, feeling his muscles flex and relax with each thrust of his pelvis. Needing him deeper, I wrapped my legs around his hips and used Cordova as an anchor to meet the steady rhythm of his sex grinding into me. Again and again I moved against him, joining him in an exquisite dance of passion. The tempo of our lovemaking quickened, our bodies becoming one in a sexy tango fevered by need and desire.

  When our frenzy crescendoed, I tightened my grip on the broad muscles of his upper back. “Yes, Cordova. Fuck me. Fuck me now.”

  My tangle of legs strained as I pressed him deeper, demanding he pump harder and faster. “Shit, that’s it. Don’t stop.” As my body found its sweet release, I bit his shoulder, stifling my cries of ecstasy.

  The grip Cordova had on my ass tightened, and his body stiffened. His hips rammed forward for one final, shuddering thrust.

  Though he stood spent and motionless, I could feel his cock still pulsing deep within me. I clenched my stomach muscles, tightening my pussy around him, never wanting the waves of rapture to end.

  Cordova let out a great exhale of air, then smiled. “Do you ride all your cowboys this way?”

  “No. Riding cowboys is sometimes too easy. This is how I like to ride my bulls.” I drew close and rested my head in the curve of his neck. Cordova’s blood pumped through his veins hard and fast, much like my own. “I must admit, bull riding can be a dangerous sport. The rider doesn’t have much control. One never knows just what the bull will do next.”

  “Ah, si. El toro.” He raised my face then cupped my cheek with his large, warm hand. “But the danger makes the ride all the better, no?”

  He bent his head and kissed me while his hands brushed along the curve of my waist to my chest. When he reached my breast, he gently pinched the hardened nipple and nipped my bottom lip with his teeth.

  After a moment of standing with him, Cordova gently pulled out and sat me down on the desk. He chucked the underside of my chin, and then turned toward his clothes and started dressing.

  “Hey. Wait a minute. You’re putting on the wrong clothes,” I protested. “I’m supposed to take your picture in the matador clothing now.”

  After buttoning up his white cotton shirt, Cordova motioned to my jeans and blouse on the flo
or. “Put on your clothes. You’re coming to la feria with me tonight.”

  “The feria?” My chin nearly hit the floor. “You’re out of your mind. I’ve got to get your other set of pictures, look through all the proofs, and then send them off to my editor. Plus, I’ve got a flight to catch in the morning. I can’t go trotting off to the fair with you.”

  The matador shrugged into his bolero jacket. When he was fully dressed, he picked up his box and placed it on the desk next to my camera. “Si, senorita. You will go to la feria with me, and we will eat, dance, drink, and make love until the sun has risen again.” He raised a dark eyebrow over one twinkling eye. “I am guessing this means you must stay another day, no? Possibly even two.”

  He kissed me, holding me close against his broad chest. Then, without warning, he picked me up in his strong arms.

  “I can take you like this, or I will wait until you have put on your clothes. Which do you prefer?” Cordova took several steps to the door.

  “Stop!” The infuriating man was serious about taking me out of my room bare assed and blushing. I wiggled in his arms, trying to free myself. His hold only tightened around me.

  “What is your choice, senorita? Spend more time with me in my beautiful country, or take only half of the pictures you need back home to America tomorrow?”

  I started to tell him I wouldn’t be blackmailed into doing anything. But then I glanced at the dozens of beautiful yet boring bouquets of red roses sitting in vases around my room.

  Had I ever met a man who stirred such passion and excitement in my soul? And when had a man ever swept me off my feet both figuratively and literally? My eager, racing pulse reminded me of the answers.

  No and never.

  With me snuggled comfortably in his grasp, Cordova reached for the stem of the flower he had pulled out earlier, traced the outline of my face with the soft bud and then handed me the single rose.

  I sucked in a lungful of floral air and slowly exhaled. The matador had succeeded in slaying me, piercing my heart when I hadn’t even noticed he was wielding a sword.

  Smiling, I tossed the flower across the room. Surely my editor could wait a few more days.

  I kissed Cordova on the cheek and then shimmied down until my feet found the floor. “I’ll be just two minutes.”

  I couldn’t leave Seville and Cordova just yet, not without knowing where this uncharted and thrilling adventure would take me.

  Also available

  The Sea Prince

  by

  Brenna Zinn

  Though terrified of the ocean, Shelly Merdock finds herself alone in Cancun on what should have been her honeymoon—but not for long. A handsome and very naked man strolls out of the surf and onto her patio, claiming to be her lifemate. He also believes he's a merman—the great, great grandson of Poseidon no less—and insists they have sex in the water within twenty-four hours to complete the marriage ritual. Crazier still, Shelly actually considers his offer. Who could resist? But can she place herself in the hands of the sexy stranger, beyond a night of shared intimacy, and shed her fear of the water to live with him in his palace under the sea?

  To purchase The Sea Prince and other erotic titles, visit www.thewilderrosespress.com.