His Blazing Passion: Real Men of Wildridge Read online

  Chapter Two

  Fuck.

  Anger and lust swirled in a storm of confused chaos in Allon’s mind—a whirlwind much like the twisted battle he’d fought with Chelle only moments ago. Her lips tasted like salt and the rich dirt they’d disrupted, her tongue hot like fire when it brushed against his.

  While her hands buried themselves in his hair, he gripped her bare ass, digging his fingers into the plump flesh like claws. Their hips pressed together with his thick hardness trapped between them. Had he been shouting at her with that thing bobbing between his legs the whole damn time? At least it put her damn joke to rest. Yet the way his dick rubbed on her silken thigh as she lifted it to his waist frustrated him as much as it made a sweet shiver run up his spine.

  God, she was hot! Delicious curves, spice, and passion matched his own. Why hadn’t he prepared himself? Then again, how could he have? No woman had ever fit him so well before and that really pissed him off. Her lush body felt unbelievable against his, and he pushed back to test her strength, to see how much she could take.

  Next thing Allon knew, he found himself shoved backward to the ground, Chelle following his body with her own. A mix between a tackle and pounce, Allon couldn’t suppress a wicked grin when he realized he was now straddled by the tempting dragoness.

  But this was no tender, loving embrace. This was a dare. Dragons spoke a more personal body language than humans could ever imagine. Every eye twitch, each muscle spasm, even the slightest tilt of a head spoke volumes to a dragon.

  Chelle slid forward and sandwiched Allon’s bulging cock between his abs and her ass. Then she ground down, making him dig his hands into the earth as the blissful sensation rippled down his shaft and through his muscles. She glared at him in an unspoken challenge. One he had to meet.

  Bucking his hips as hard as he could, Allon threw her off him, but not as easily as he would have thought. With a yelp, she rolled away and landed crouched, ready to spring into action. Except she faced away from him, giving him the perfect opportunity to seize her from behind. Sliding one arm under her and claiming a breast while the other grasped her hip for support, he ground his aching cock against her ass cheeks. Somehow he found the strength not to plunge deep inside her…yet. Instead, he bit her neck, just hard enough to stimulate the sensitive skin plastered with her damp red hair.

  “Fuck you,” she snarled over her shoulder, even as her ass rubbed against him, driving him wild.

  He chuckled, and even to his own ears, his voice sounded thick and throaty with desire. “Soon enough, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

  He licked two fingers and just as she took a breath to curse him, his probing fingertips found her slick wetness, proof of her own desire for him. That evidence filled him with fiery pride, and while he fought to control how she bucked her hips against him, he kept his fingers swirling in small circles on her clit.

  He teased her stiff nipple with his other hand before he clamped it between thumb and forefinger, rolling the hard bud between his fingertips. Chelle jerked with a hissing gasp. Allon grinned against her shoulder. His attentions clearly drove her wild, their struggle for dominance more exciting than he’d anticipated.

  That’s when she changed her strategy, going limp and melting into him. Of course he possessed enough strength to hold her up for hours, but the move surprised him long enough for her to twist around and pull him to the ground again. But Allon was better prepared this time. He kept her momentum going until she wound up on her back, her lush curves pinned beneath him as their bodies pressed together.

  Chelle surged and twisted, attempting to wrap her thighs around him—no doubt in an attempt to flip him on his back again—but he captured them and pushed her knees toward her head until her glistening pussy lay bare to him. The temptation was too great, the sight overwhelming him with a hunger he’d never experienced. He gazed down at her like a thirsty man looking at an oasis in the distance. She bared her teeth at him in warning, but her undulating hips told another tale, and he didn’t hesitate to plunge his face between her thighs. Her honey tasted salty-sweet and his groan told her how much he savored her as she bucked under him.

  No romance or tenderness was offered, nor was it asked for. His dragony sense of smell could tell exactly how much Chelle loved what he was doing, even though her reaction to him pissed her off. Funny how her emotions mirrored his own almost perfectly.

  Allon was no stranger to spending time between a woman’s legs. He kept his body in good shape because he liked using it. Those efforts were rewarded by a bevy of beautiful babes who never turned him down for a midnight booty call. But he wasn’t thinking of any of them as he tortured her with his tongue. Every sense was consumed by Chelle, and the thought of dragging their battle for dominance into the bedroom thrilled him beyond words.

  He lavished her clit with punishment, swirling his tongue around it between long stretches of rhythmic laving. Tension thrummed in her body, a sign she was close. But when she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled his head tighter against her flesh, he knew he had her.

  Sights, sounds and smells combined to bring him nearly to the edge. It took all of his energy to hold back and wait for his reward as he drew more and more gasps and moans from Chelle. Sharp fingernails dug into his scalp as her hips undulated under his mouth. Then she tensed and released a blood-curdling scream of ecstasy. Her entire frame shuddered and thrashed under him as a full-body orgasm racked her. Still, he wouldn’t let up until he drew every ounce of pleasure from her. Only when her body collapsed into a puddle of bliss did he lift his glistening face and grin at her.

  “So,” he started, ready to gloat about his success at being the top dog again, but before he could finish, she shoved him so hard he flipped over onto his back, the breath knocked out of him. Before he could even blink, she had him pinned to the ground again.

  The afterglow around her face and the scent in the air were unmistakable—the orgasm had been real, but that wouldn’t stop Chelle. Her fiercely blazing eyes made one thing abundantly clear. She played to win.

  * * *

  Chelle leaned down until her lips lay a fraction of an inch from the shell of his ear, panting hot, ragged breaths into it. “I bet you feel like a big man right now, hmm?” she whispered.

  She was rewarded by a shudder rolling through his body, causing his cock to twitch against her throbbing pussy. She had him right where she wanted him—pinned underneath her own gloriously naked body in the middle of the forest clearing. God, the feeling of power over such an immensely powerful dragon really did things to her. Rocking her hips, she slicked her wetness against his thick, swollen shaft and delighted in the sound of leaves and twigs crinkling and snapping underneath him.

  As much as she admired Allon Wyvern’s skills as a tracker, every nerve ending hated him with a passion. He was damn good at his job, almost as good as her, and that left her reputation vulnerable. Unacceptable. Now it was up to her to show him exactly who he was dealing with.

  “Bigger with every passing second,” he snapped, thrusting his hips to prove his point.

  “God, I hate you,” she seethed, glaring down at him like an apex predator regarding her helpless prey.

  He wasn’t, though. Helpless. Despite the fact they were cut from the same fierce, resilient cloth, Allon was probably the only creature alive who could come close to keeping up with her. And judging by the annoying smirk on his handsome fucking face, he knew it too.

  “The feeling is mutual, sweetheart, I assure you,” Allon replied gruffly as he gripped her hips.

  His rich, deep voice pissed her off even more. Dropping her head, she mashed her lips against his, just to shut him the hell up. When his tongue clashed with hers, she rebelled and bit his plump lower lip, drawing a grunt of pain mixed with pleasure. Pulling back, she snarled at him.

  “Don’t call me that. I’m nobody’s sweetheart.”

  “Oh, come on now,” he teased. “That hair, those lips, that bangin’ bod. Everyone
knows you’re the hottest girl in the game.”

  “You got that right, asshole. I’m hot because I’m the best there ever was. And everybody better know it. You’re sure as hell gonna know it by the time I’m done with you.”

  “Oh, yeah? Whatchya got in mind?”

  “Aww, you a little impatient there, bud?” Chelle said playfully, mock-pouting with her sensual lip poking out. “You want to see what I’ve got in store for you?”

  “Come on, sweetheart, I ain’t got all day.”

  “Don’t—call—me—sweetheart!” she growled, accentuating every word with a roll of her hips.

  Allon sucked in a sharp breath, making Chelle grin with pleasure. She reached down and grabbed both of his hands, slapping them over her breasts and arching into his touch.

  “This what you want, asshole? You want to touch this perfect body? You want to feel how strong I am, how good I am at my job? All these muscles, all these curves, all this power. This is why I’m better than you, dickhead. This is why I’m the best there is and ever will be and don’t you forget it.”

  Allon had absolute paws for hands, slightly rough and calloused from a lifetime of manual labor, weight lifting, and long hours chasing bad guys. But even splayed wide open, they were barely big enough to fully cup her tits. They spilled voluptuously over his fingers as his thumbs traced soft, rhythmic circles around her tight nipples, sending bolts of pleasure straight to her core.

  Yet Chelle remained in total control, of him and herself—just the way she liked it. The arrogant ass thought she would be begging for him to fuck her, but by the time she was finished with him, he’d be pleading for another taste of her sweetness. It was her job to make him realize who was really in charge here.

  “You want to fuck this perfect pussy. Don’t you?” she cooed, as she rocked against him, allowing the tip of his cock to press against her entrance for a split second before letting it slip past.

  “God, yes. I want to tear up that tight little cunt of yours.”

  “You think you’re good enough for that? You think you can handle it?”

  Pulling away from him, Chelle trailed her fingers down his broad chest and rippled abs to reach between her thighs and grab his cock with both hands. His gasp of surprise and pleasure brought a smile to her lips. Okay, his cock did too. In all of her experiences, she’d never had one fill her hands so fully before. If it filled her hands like that, what would it do to other orifices?

  Not that she’d ever admit that to him.

  Allon’s tongue darted out and swiped at his delicious lips. “I’m going to destroy you,” he warned, eyes blazing with a promise she hoped he could keep.

  “I’d love to see you try,” she snapped back with utter honesty.

  Without so much as a grunt, Allon grabbed her by the waist and spun her around so she faced the other way, her perfectly round, taut ass bouncing on his pelvis.

  “I’m going to fuck you this way, so I don’t have to look you in the eye,” Allon growled, grasping his dick and slicking it along her wet folds.

  Chelle snorted. “Oh, do I intimidate you so much you can’t look me in the eyes while I blow your mind?”

  “You’re all hat, no cattle, Ms. Calidi.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  With one quick adjustment of her hips, she took him deep inside her, as deep as she could. Two loud groans of pure pleasure echoed around the clearing. Allon’s huge hands grasped her hips as she pumped up and down, riding his cock hard and fast under the hot California sunshine for all of the animals of the forest to see. Was it possible to fuck the life out of a man? She sure as hell hoped so as her ass jiggled and bounced against his hips, both of their bodies tensing all too quickly.

  But it seemed Allon wasn’t quite ready to relinquish control of his body quite so easily. Not yet.

  Holding tightly to her hips so she couldn’t squirm away, he pulled her free of him and repositioned himself behind her. She could have broken free easily, but her body refused. It needed this, needed him.

  Not that she’d ever admit that to him.

  Thrusting deeply inside her, Allon pummeled her like he was trying to punish her. The dirt and twigs ground into her knees and palms but she barely noticed. If anything, the minor pain only added to her pleasure. She slipped a desperate hand between her thighs and began stroking herself, but he yanked her hand away, only to replace it with his own, even as he pounded her into what he probably thought was submission. Little did he know that her threshold for pain was far beyond the average dragon’s. If anything, it helped her forget her hatred for him.

  Pressure built up inside Chelle, filling her as fully as his cock. One more swipe of his fingers against her oversensitive clit sent her tumbling over the precipice of ecstasy—again—and Allon wasn’t too far behind. As her inner walls clamped and pulsed around him, he thrust harder and deeper until his guttural cries caused birds to launch into the sky and small animals to scurry for safety. Chelle’s own screams of pleasure joined his until the only sound in the world was the sound of their bliss.

  Allon’s immense weight fell on her back and they collapsed into a sweaty, panting pile of body parts. Both of them whimpered with the aftermath of their intense release as the final shockwaves pulsed through them until they lay in each other’s arms, completely and totally spent.

  Chapter Three

  Allon stalked through the door of the Wildridge Security office, as furious as he was sated. Every muscle glowed with the aftermath of what had been the best sex he’d had in years, but once again, Chelle had made a complete fool of him in the process. Which left him pissed—at that slug Danque, at Chelle, and more than anything, at himself.

  Allon felt no shame in admitting he was a post-coital cuddler, but apparently Chelle didn’t feel the same. Seconds after they’d collapsed in a slick heap of tangled limbs, she’d jumped up, shifted, and flown away without a word or even a look over her shoulder. Hell, even a “See ya, sucker!” would have been better than that. He’d watched her quickly diminishing form for several seconds before he even realized she wasn’t playing a prank on him.

  What a helluva day—and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

  “Good morning, Mr. Wyvern!” the new receptionist Tessa Sinclair chimed cheerfully.

  Too cheerfully for his sullen mood.

  Tessa was Wildridge Security’s new receptionist after the old one, Bellicent, had been arrested for conspiracy, robbery, blackmail and a whole host of other charges. The young woman was the spitting image of her grandmother Alice, who owned the pet shop next door. Thick rusty brown hair was held in a loose braid at the back of her neck, moss green eyes sparkled with love for everyone, her face was generously peppered with truly adorable freckles, and her disposition was sweeter than her vegan honey substitute.

  Agape? Agave? Something like that.

  She dressed like what Allon imagined Alice in the sixties might have worn—loose flowing organic tunics that looked comfortable, if a little hippie-dippy for his taste. Of course, koala shifters were a breed like no other, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that Alice’s granddaughter was a mini-doppelganger. Even their loopiness seemed genetic, though he had to hand it to Tessa, she was organized. Far more so than Bellicent. Even if his boss, Charlie Volant, had given her the job as a favor to their neighbor, Allon couldn’t deny Tessa was a solid hire.

  Still, despite the fact she’d turned out to be a conniving little thief, he missed Bellicent’s snarky attitude occasionally. Especially when he was feeling cranky, like now.

  “Any calls?” he growled, unamused by her perkiness.

  “Nope!” she practically sang, looking up from whatever she and her grandmother were huddled over at her desk. “But Mr. DeFever would like to talk to you when you have a minute.”

  “Okay, I’ll go—” He stopped cold at the sound of a soft chirping noise. “What the hell is that? Do we have rats again? I better go get the traps.”

  “No,” Alice chuckle
d, outstretching her cupped hands to him.

  For a moment he didn’t see anything, but then a tiny brown-and-white striped head with bulging brown eyes popped up to look at him. Then it…barked.

  “What the hell is that?” he asked, jerking back as if the tiny lemur-looking thing could hurt him.

  “It’s a sugar glider,” Alice explained, pushing it closer to him.

  Allon’s upper lip curled back in distaste. “Cute.”

  “Wanna hold it?”

  “Uh, no.” In all honesty, the little critter was about as adorable as Tessa, but that wasn’t a selling point for him. “Thought you would have had your fill of rodents after the ferret nearly devoured the python that somehow slithered in here.”

  Pink colored Alice’s cheeks at the memory of the entire staff chasing down the mortal enemies that had mysteriously managed to escape Mutts ‘N’ Stuff, her pet shop, and find their way into the Wildridge offices. At least the chaos that always ensued when one—or more—of Alice’s animals escaped was entertaining.

  Alice cleared her throat and tried to change the subject. “Ferrets aren’t rodents. They’re mustelids.”

  Allon didn’t miss a beat. “Okay, I thought you would have had your fill of mustard lids then.”

  Alice snickered and slightly smacked his bulging bicep with the back of her hand. He knew how to be charming when he wanted to be. And he liked Alice. Tessa too, for that matter. Just because he’d had an extraordinarily weird morning didn’t mean he had the right to take it out on them.

  “Sugar gliders are marsupials,” Tessa explained, reaching up and stealing back the sugar glider from Alice to set it on her shoulder. “They’re kind of like tiny, cute-as-buttons possums that fly. Well, glide, anyway.”

  “Huh,” he said, keeping one eye on the little critter in case it decided to make a break for it. Allon specialized in hunting big game—runaway shifters—so he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with small things like that. He worried looking at them the wrong way might break them in half. “Well, if anything with a taste for possums or mustard gets loose, you know where to find me.”