Golden Mustang

by Ranae Rose

  ‘Look.’ He pointed at the sun, as if she could miss it.

  Hattie blinked. No, he wasn’t pointing at the sun. There was a horse. Her stomach flipped and her heartbeat spiked as the lone animal galloped across the horizon like a fiery, four-legged ember. She stared in horror. Tom wouldn’t let this go easily, not after the damnably coincidental appearance of a wild horse. She reached out and gripped his arm, silently willing him to come to his senses and spare her the task of calling him back to reality.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t he?’ Tom asked, the excitement in his voice battling with reverence.

  The mustang was indeed very beautiful, a fact that was becoming more and more clear with its every step. Its body was a sun-kissed golden color that radiated like its own source of light. Its mane and tail glowed a fiery orange, and golden sparks flew from where its hooves struck the earth. It was magnificent, breathtaking… And Tom really thought he could catch something like that? The weight that had been momentarily lifted from Hattie’s stomach plunged back, heavier than before and as she tore her gaze away from the fiery miracle for just a moment to glance at Tom. He clenched a long length of rope he carried in a coil that hung from his saddle horn. His lasso.

  She’d barely managed to open her mouth when Tom’s horse exploded in a flurry of hooves and dust, sprinting across the desert at his urging. Her own horse whinnied shrilly and danced beneath her, eager to follow. Oh, what the heck… She loosened the reins and heeled her mare.

  They raced toward the fiery stallion, which was rapidly passing the rising orb of the sun, gleaming brilliantly golden as its hooves tore up the parched earth. The horses Tom and Hattie rode were hardy mustang stock – good for the long run, and thank God. The sun stallion was sprinting along, faster than a streak of lightning. Hattie’s heart raced as she leaned forward in the saddle, urging her mare to keep up with Tom and his horse. They thundered across the desert, gaining on the legendary creature. Tom was ahead of Hattie, and churning up a cloud of dust that she had to squint against. Her heart leapt nonetheless when she saw him gather up his lasso, preparing to throw it. When he did she held her breath, praying silently, automatically, as his loop soared through the air, toward the galloping horse’s head. Oh God, let him catch the horse.

  The lasso fell over the mustang’s head and settled neatly around its neck. A perfect throw. Hattie breathed a long sigh of relief as she urged her mare to keep up. The stallion was still running strong. She’d seen Tom rope wild horses before and knew they didn’t give up without a fight.

  Tom drew the loop tight and the stallion tossed its head, snorting. Now came the hard part – slowing the horse down. It took time, and Hattie slowly fell behind as Tom rode patiently beside the stallion, slowing it as its energy dwindled. She waited until they finally stopped running to heel her mare into one last sprint. Her heart beat faster and harder than her mount’s hooves the entire way, and she strained for a better look at the captured creature. Tom had lassoed a legend. She could hardly wrap her mind around the fact. Leaning forward in the saddle, she reined her mare to a spectacular sliding halt she ordinarily wouldn’t have attempted. What she saw killed her cry of triumph just as it reached her lips.

  Tom’s catch was just an ordinary mustang. Its palomino coat was a pretty shade of golden yellow, but she’d seen dozens of horses of the same color. Its mane and tail were a creamy white. How she’d mistaken it for a creature of legend, she could no longer fathom. She wracked her mind for something, anything comforting to say while silently berating herself for her idiocy.

  ‘Musta been the sun reflectin’ off him that made him look so bright,’ Tom said as he held fast to his lasso, steadying the mustang, who was eyeing him warily as it pranced at the end of the rope.

  ‘Oh, Tom…’ She could hear the disappointment in his voice – and her own. It made sense now that he’d said it – the rising sun had cast its light on the mustang, causing its white mane and tail to look orange and its body unnaturally bright. ‘But what about the golden sparks?’ she wondered out loud, before she could think better of it.

  Tom shrugged, letting his gaze fall to the mustang’s feet. He was still for several moments as he stared at the ground, and then he fell to his knees.

  Hattie’s stomach plummeted and twisted. She pulled a foot from the stirrup and prepared to swing out of the saddle, to wrap her arms around him.

  ‘Hattie…look at this!’ He bent over the ground, pressing his hands against the earth where the mustang had trodden. Something bright shone between his sun-darkened fingers as the sun crept higher, a familiar glimmer of gold.

  Hattie knelt beside him. ‘Oh, Tom…’ Her mouth was suddenly dry, and her heart began racing again.

  ‘It’s gold!’ Even he sounded almost as if he couldn’t believe it. ‘Gold.’ He stood suddenly, rummaging in his saddlebags for the small pick he always kept there, the token of a hopeful prospector. Retrieving it and kneeling again, he struck the desert ground, chipping away a sizeable chunk that glowed in the fresh sunlight. ‘Hattie, this is the best ore I’ve ever seen! It’s…it’s everywhere!’ The disappointment was gone from his voice, and the gleam had returned to his eyes. He quickly began dusting away the stallion’s tracks with his hands, uncovering feet and then yards of dirt speckled with the precious metal. ‘Hattie, we’re rich!’

  We’re. Suddenly, Hattie felt warmer than the gold-flecked earth, warmer than the sun. With this kind of wealth, just about any woman in the country and definitely any woman from their little mining town would have gladly thrown themselves at Tom’s feet. Heck, half of them would have done it just for his smile and blue eyes, never mind the money. But he wanted her. ‘God Tom, you’re sweet.’

  In his excitement, Tom didn’t seem to hear her. Lifting a luminous chunk of gold to show her, he spoke. ‘Hattie,’ his eyes sparkled as he took her hand in his and pressed the precious metal against her palm, ‘will you marry me? I reckon I can provide for you now. Whatever you need – anything – I’ll make sure—’

  Hattie cut him off with a kiss that was as fiery as the sunrise. Her blood thrummed in her ears, and only her eagerness to answer him lent her the strength to pull her lips from his mouth, to let his tongue retreat from where it stroked hers. ‘Yes! Yes Tom, I’ll marry you.’

  He beamed brilliantly, putting the gold nugget he pressed into her palm to shame. ‘Hold onto this then. We’ll have it melted down and made into a ring.’ He turned away from her and a freed the captured mustang with a few deft movements, turning it loose to gallop away across the desert, snorting. It probably would have made a fine saddle horse, but that hardly mattered. He wouldn’t have to work himself to death in the saddle from dusk ‘till dawn to scrape by anymore. It was a miracle.

  Dropping his lasso as the horse disappeared from view, he pressed his mouth against Hattie’s before she had a chance to reply, kissing her so exuberantly they both tumbled from their heels to the gold-pocked ground. She threw her arms around his neck and drew him closer, reveling in the feel of every inch of his body pressing against hers. He moved his hands over her breasts and hips, finding the disturbed hem of her dress and sliding smoothly underneath. He paused halfway up her thigh, as if unsure whether or not he should continue. ‘Don’t stop now,’ Hattie breathed.

  He caressed his way upward with a rustling of petticoats, the calluses on his workman’s fingertips faintly rough through the thin fabric of her undergarments. Every inch of her body tingled.

  His breath was hotter than the desert sun as he breathed against her neck, reaching behind her back to tug the ribbon that secured the end of her braid loose. ‘When I imagined this, I always pictured your hair down.’

  She trembled against him, not from fear, but excitement. The thought of him imagining their first lovemaking with such particular detail made her smile into his shoulder as he combed his fingers through her hair, fanning it around her shoulders. ‘It’s like red gold.’

  ‘Is there such at thing?’ she asked.

>   ‘Apparently.’ He pressed his cheek against her fiery locks. His jaw was pleasantly rough against her skin.

  She blushed as he ran his fingers down the curve of her spine. Her shoulders were completely covered, but she knew he saw them bare in his mind’s eye, and the rest of her, too. He plunged a hand beneath her skirts again, as if he’d read her mind. His fingers dipped into the hollow between her thighs, teasing. She sighed as anticipatory pleasure flared in her core, but instead of letting his touch linger there he began to undress her. Several minutes later she was resting among a pile of petticoats with nothing against her skin save for the desert ground and Tom. His eyes drank her in, brighter than ever as they traveled her body from head to toe, lingering on her curves.

  Hattie’s cheeks burned as he laid his gaze upon her, so heavy she could feel it. As a saloon girl, she was used to being stared at by men. But not bare, and not like this. A shiver of delight raced down her spine when Tom reached out caress one of her breasts, rubbing a nipple that was as pink as a rose petal beneath his thumb. It hardened at once and an aching desire to be touched the same way spread between her thighs. She parted them hopefully, tentatively…

  His hand plunged between them at once, his touch rough and gentle at the same time. He found the hardened nub above her now damp slit with his fingertips and began a massage that was lubricated by the wetness that’d crept from her core, readying her for him. She sighed and leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes. She’d often imagined what it would be like to finally make love to him, but her fantasies paled in comparison to what was happening now. She hadn’t known there was pleasure that could make her feel as if she was going to float away and collapse at the same time. A firmness against her leg reminded her that Tom was surely aching for her touch.

  His dungarees were strained by his erection, so severely that Hattie worried it might be painful for him. She lowered a hand to his crotch and set to work on his buttons, freeing him one by one. When they were all undone his erection rose up from a nest of golden hair and faded denim, long and throbbing with the need to be touched. Determined to satisfy his desire, she closed her hand in a gentle yet definite fist around the shaft. She caressed his smooth, hot skin, trusting him to let her know what he wanted.

  She moved her hand, slowly at first, then more rapidly as his moan indicated he liked what she was doing. She smiled in satisfaction as the friction warmed her palm. It occurred to her she’d be able to touch him more quickly if he was as wet as she was. Seized by this idea she stilled her hand on his shaft, guiding his member between her thighs as she straddled him.

  He reacted instinctively, flexing his hips and thrusting himself against her. She held his cock tight as the head brushed her damp folds, eliciting a thrill of pleasure. She was careful to keep him from entering her. She wanted that, but not quite yet. For a short while she allowed him to glide back and forth beneath the entrance into her body, wetting the thick tip of his erection. After several gasping moments she stopped him, breaking the contact between their sexes as she slid away. His cock gleamed, glazed with her lust. Perfect. She began to slide her fist up and down its shaft again.

  Her efforts went much more smoothly, and within moments a drop of moisture appeared on the head of his cock, leaking from the slit that split its thickness. Just a drop. She made herself stop before more rushed out, despite the fact that a part of her urged her to continue, to push him to the point of spilling himself. A thrill of excitement washed through her at the thought, and her fingertips ached with desire. She’d enjoyed his moans, his hot blasts of breath…the feeling that he was at her mercy and loving it.

  He moved suddenly, pulling her against him and interrupting her thoughts by pressing his face to her breasts.

  She gasped as his hat fell off of his head and to the ground below. If his thumb had caused her nipple to harden, it was nothing compared to what his mouth was doing. He pressed a hand against the small of her back, making it arch, forcing the fullness of her breast against his lips. When he finally pulled away her nipple gleamed as damply as his cock had after she’d coated him in her wetness. Her core tightened at the memory. She straddled him again, swinging quickly over his thighs and settling down as if she were climbing into the saddle. His erection pressed against her from below, poised to penetrate. She paused for one last, deep-reaching kiss and then gave him the go ahead – a subtle thrust of her hips from below.

  He entered her in one slow but steady stroke, pushing past the barrier of her maidenhead to claim her as his own. She gasped as a slow burn of pleasure warred with the ache of her gladly surrendered virginity. He filled her well, leaving her wanting as he pulled back and pushed in again. She sighed as her body stretched to accommodate him, burying her face in his shoulder as she closed her eyes, focused only on the eruption of sensation that was happening at her core. Each stroke made her sigh a little louder and hurt a little less. Tom joined her, groaning as she tipped back her head, her nipples tightening to little buds as they brushed the front of his plaid shirt.

  When the pain faded completely, only pleasure remained. Hattie gasped for air, succumbing to the sensation of being pulled out of her mind by a strong undercurrent of ecstasy. The head of his cock pressed against her womb, sending jolts of pleasure up to her navel and out to the very ends of her fingers and toes. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see the ends of her hair sparking, really on fire.

  He pressed his mouth against the side of her neck, biting more than kissing, and the first pangs of a toe-curling climax began. She seized his shoulders and squeezed, urging to him to move faster as she cried out, louder than the coyotes had less than an hour ago. He labored beneath her, moving as quickly and deeply as he could and grunting with the effort. Waves of contractions caused her core to tighten around his thrusting cock. When he’d milked every last second of her pleasure, he pressed toward his own.

  He rocked quickly beneath her, his body radiating so much heat it would’ve been easy to pretend the light and warmth that were spreading across the desert came from him. He delved deeply into Hattie with each stroke. She’d been left ultra-sensitive in the wake of orgasm, and each of his movements made her want to writhe. When he cried out she squeezed his shoulders just as tightly as she had during her own climax, reveling in the feel of him releasing inside of her. When he was still they breathed heavily together for several moments before Hattie slid out of his lap, riding one last jolt of sensation as Tom unsheathed himself from her body.

  He pressed a few deep kisses against her lips before helping her to dress. ‘Well, what do you say we load up our saddlebags and head back to town?’ He brushed one of her loose waves out of her face.

  Hattie eyed the gilded ground, and then Tom’s eyes, which gleamed even brighter with a happiness that she shared, just as she’d shared his pleasure. ‘Alright. I reckon we can take our time, since I won’t be going back to the saloon.’

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  About the Author

  Ranae Rose writes red-hot romance. She lives on the US East Coast and is an avid reader and writer who can’t resist a good love story, and the hotter the better. You can find out more about Ranae and her books at:

  www.ranaerose.com

  Ranae loves to hear from readers! She can be reached at: contact@ranaerose.com

  Connect with Ranae on Twitter: Ranae_Rose