“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” I moan.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Raylan says.
16
Raylan
My head is buzzing on the ride back to the house.
That was . . . so much more than I expected.
I knew that Riona had a whole lot of something bottled up inside of her. Anger, or determination, or something . . .
But I had no idea she’d be so fucking wild.
She was raw and primal. Ten times sexier than I expected.
And that body . . . fucking hell.
I’ve never seen skin so creamy and flawless. Or a pussy that fucking perfect. Standing in the water, with her red hair all wild and wavy around her shoulders, she looked like Aphrodite. Like a goddess made flesh for the very first time.
And like a goddess, she had a kind of terrifying intensity. Her skin was paler than normal from the cold water. Next to that, her red hair and green eyes looked as vivid as a venomous snake. Maybe more Medusa than Aphrodite.
I would have been intimidated, if I weren’t so fucking aroused.
I had to splash myself with the cold water to keep my cock only semi-hard. Because Riona naked was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever laid eyes on.
I got my erection tamped down, then I looked over at her, and I saw those green eyes fixed on my cock, and I knew she was almost as aroused as I was. I knew I had to have her.
I clarified the little matter of the ex-boyfriend—for Riona’s benefit, not because I gave a fuck about the surgeon. I knew from the second I met him that he wasn’t the right man for her. He didn’t have a fraction of the strength it takes to tame a woman like Riona. To grab hold of her and force her to respect you.
Riona’s a fighter. She’s driven to lock horns with any man who tries to assert his power over her. She won’t be taken gently.
I suspected that she was tired of Dean for a while, and only dragging things out because he was a useful shield between her and me. A way to make me keep my distance.
Hearing that she had already broken up with him told me everything I needed to know. I knew that Riona wanted me, whether she’d admitted it to herself or not.
So I grabbed her and kissed her and buried my face in that sweet shell-pink pussy with its tuft of wild red hair. It was intoxicating. She tasted sweet and spicy, like cinnamon. I could feel her responding to me immediately, her body betraying any restraint she tried to maintain.
And the way she sucked my cock . . . good god, it was like she was starving. Like she needed my cum to live. I never would have thought she’d let go like that. I thought it might take months to dig down to that kind of ferocity. But it was waiting, right below the surface. Dying to be released.
Now I want to be close to Riona. I want to grab Penny’s reins and pull her over so I can rest my hand on Riona’s thigh, and tell her that she’s fucking gorgeous, and sexy, and brilliant, and stubborn. That she drives me insane and I can’t get enough of her.
But I know I can’t do that. Riona will spook.
Already she’s silent and pale, deliberately not looking over at me. Mulling over what just happened between us.
I’ve spent every minute of the last two weeks with her. I’ve gotten to know this woman better than she’d like to admit. I know that it terrifies her to lose control. It terrifies her that I’ve seen through her armor, seen the actual person beneath.
Now that she’s been exposed to me, she wants to clam up again. She wants to rebuild those walls.
That’s fine . . . I’ll let her think that it’s working. That she’s still in control of this thing between us.
And then, when the moment is right . . . I’m going to capture her again. I’m going to find her most vulnerable places, the cracks in her armor, and I’m going to split it wide open. I’m going to grab hold of her—stripped-down, raw, and genuine. And I’m going to force her to admit what she actually likes.
But not just yet. Right now, I need to pull back and give her space. Let her get comfortable again. Let her think she has control.
Meanwhile, I’m just biding my time.
We ride back the way we came, slower on the way back because I’m sure Riona is sore from riding. This is unfamiliar exercise to her, unfamiliar motion.
I was surprised how well she did.
I guess I shouldn’t have been—she’s smart and competitive. Quick to catch on to something new. Wise enough to respect the horses.
When we get back to the house, I see Grady in the round training ring, chasing a brand-new horse. It’s an Appaloosa, probably two years old. Its front half is a smooth, glossy black, while its back is white with dappled black spots, like a rug thrown over its hindquarters. It’s a beautiful animal, with long legs and a well-shaped head. But I can tell immediately that it’s wild and bad-tempered, and totally unbroken. It bites and snaps at Grady when he tries to get near it. He hasn’t gotten the bridle over its head.
I halt the horses a good way back—I don’t want Brutus getting riled up by the sight of the other horse and its fury. Grady tries again, unsuccessfully, to fit the halter over its head.
I lead Brutus and Penny the long way around to the stable, where I show Riona how to remove their saddles again, how to feed and water and rub them down. She seems genuinely interested in that, not jumping off and wandering away the moment the ride is done, like so many tourists do after their first ride.
Riona is highly attentive to Penny, brushing her coat and patting her affectionately.
“She’s such a good horse,” Riona says.
“She is.” I nod. “So’s Brutus, but you have to remind him of that.”
I give Brutus a good scratch on the shoulders like he likes and feed him a couple of carrots. Penny gets apples, since they’re her favorite.
“What are they doing to that horse in the pen?” Riona asks me.
“Looks like Grady is trying to break it,” I say.
“What does that mean?”
“You gotta teach a horse how to accept a rider. That one looks like it’s never had a person on its back.”
Riona goes to the doorway of the stable so she can watch.
She stands motionless, head slightly tilted, watching Grady try again and again to slip the bridle over the horse’s head. It snaps and bites at him, or slips its head away at the last minute, forcing Grady to swing the horse around again, holding tight to its mane.
“How long does it take?” Riona asks me.
“Could be a couple hours. Could be all day.” I chuckle. “Could be forever if Grady doesn’t calm that horse down a little.”
Grady is dogged and tenacious, but he doesn’t always know how to connect with a horse. He treats each one the same. And no horse is the same.
Once Penny and Brutus are comfortably eating, I walk over to the ring with Riona.
The Appaloosa is highly agitated, trying to rear up but prevented from doing so by Grady’s grasp on its mane. The whites of its eyes show as it tries to jerk its head away from Grady’s grip.
“Where’d you get that one?” I ask him.
“From the Fosters. Name’s Star. She’s been running wild with her mother and brother on their land, ‘cause Allan Foster broke his leg and hasn’t had a chance to do shit all with her. Jemma Foster sold her to me cheap ‘cause she says she’s too vicious to train.”