Page 2 of Dangerous Stakes

He gave her hair a tug, lighting up her scalp as he chuckled. “Aye, that I am. And I mean to empty myself in your pussy. Turn around, my beautiful Dutch filly.”

As she turned around, Rory ran his hand down her back and swatted her backside. Sofie let out a little yelp and was rewarded with another swat as he knelt behind her, fisting her hair again. Rory pulled down on her hair as he pushed down on her shoulders, lowering her front end to the floor. Now she was in position. He could see her swollen labia and the glistening entrance to her core.

Had she not seemed so ready and willing, he might have taken more time to play with her. But he had all night to do that, and he’d make sure her pleasure was seen to. He plunged into her waiting pussy in a single, hard stroke.

He thrust into her, pounding her cunt as her inner walls softened and accepted him. He slammed his hips into her rounded ass and thought about how much prettier it would be when he colored it red.

Sofie arched her back, allowing him easier access to her tight little pussy. He began to purr to her, not so that she would hear it, but so that it caressed her flesh before sinking in. The primitive part of him was able to reach out to a place that still dwelled in all humans.

No one questioned that Rory O’Neill was a dominant man who commanded the respect and admiration of men and women alike. Men tended to fear his infamous temper, but women felt safe and wanted to bask in his attention—sexual and otherwise. He had a way of soothing fractious horses and women.

Over and over, he surged in, only to pull back out before driving in again, his hard staff swelling and beginning to twitch and thicken. Rory fucked her hard and caused her to come more than once before driving into her a final time, holding himself hard against her as he emptied his balls deep inside her.

“Best ride I’ve had all day,” he whispered in her ear as he slipped from her body.

Helping Sofie to her feet, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her on it before joining her there and pulling her close. They spent the rest of the night enjoying one another’s company and eventually snacking on the food she’d brought with her. Rory ensured that Sofie found the truth to what was said about him: he was a strong and passionate lover who made sure his partner found at least as much pleasure in the encounter as he did.

Just before dawn, there was a frantic pounding on the door.

“I’ll kill whoever it is,” he said in a deep Irish brogue, kissing Sofie’s shoulder as his cock nudged her backside.

Pulling on his breeches, he unlocked the door and was surprised when Michael burst in.

“Jeezus, Rory she needs to go. The press is clamoring to get in and the last thing they need to find is that you’ve got a girl up here.”

“It shouldn’t be that big of a surprise…”

“No, you don’t understand. It isn’t about you fucking some girl. It’s so much worse, but she doesn’t need to get caught up in it.”

Michael quickly gathered Sofie’s things and handed them to her, urging her to get dressed. As soon as she was, he pushed her out of the room and into the arms of one of the members of the Dutch team who was waiting in the hall.

“Try and get her out the back,” Michael said to the Dutch team member. “This is going to get ugly. No need for either of you to get caught up in it.”

Sofie’s team member kissed Michael. “Thank you for this … and well, for last night. I hope they got it wrong.”

She gave Rory a withering stare before maneuvering a still drowsy and very sated Sofie down the hall.

“What the hell, Michael! Did you see her? We just got to sleep. What the fuck is so important that you wake me up when I’ve got a hard cock that was expecting to get back inside her very warm, very soft, and very wet pussy at least one more time?”

“Too fucking bad. Wake up, Rory. You’ve got bigger issues than where you stick your dick. Poseidon’s drug screen came back.”

“So?” Rory asked, looking around the room for something to pull on.

Michael grabbed Rory’s arm, twisting him around. “He came up dirty.”

The growl died in his throat. “No. They got it wrong. I’ve never doped a horse in my life. Ever. You know that.”

“I might, but they’ve got tests that say differently.”

“What do the tests show?” asked Rory, pulling on his boots, and a sweater.

“Steroids.”

“What the fuck? That’s bullshit.”

“That’s not what the tests say. The Olympic Committee is meeting right now, and they want to see you and his owners. We need to get a move on. The team sponsors are meeting right now. Try not to look like you spent last night fucking your brains out.”

“Shit!” muttered Rory.

---