Page 9 of Dangerous Stakes

He found he was now looking forward to shows for far different reasons than watching his students improve. He and Susan rode together in the early morning, and he offered suggestions to help her improve. Verbally sparring with her became a high point in his day. She was funny, smart, and sassy.

That itchy palm she had ignited the first time they talked now was a constant from the moment he learned they were at the same show until he was able to get home and relieve himself. He often did so in the shower, imagining Susan was with him. Sometimes in his fantasies she was on her knees with her warm mouth wrapped around his cock, but most often he had her pinned against the wall as he either took her from behind or used the wall as leverage to slide her up and down his cock with her legs wrapped around his waist.

He closed his eyes and imagined a very naked and very aroused Susan in the shower with him.

“You’re mine,” he rumbled to her, holding her close so that her hard nipples grazed his chest and his cock pulsed against her belly.

He kissed her lips, her eyes, her face and then allowed his mouth to travel down her throat to the space between her breasts before taking one in his hand and tweaking the nipple while he suckled the other.

Rory pressed her into the wall of the shower, gripping her ass and lifting her off her feet as her legs came up to wrap around his waist. She cried out his name as he lowered her onto his cock.

He thrust up into her again and again. She gripped his biceps as he pounded into her. He felt her pussy contract as she came, moaning in pleasure as she leaned into him, allowing him to take her full weight.

Over and over, he slammed into her until finally his balls drew up tight, his cock swelled, and he groaned as he emptied himself into her.

All the while he imagined what he wanted to do with her, he gripped his cock and stroked. Breeches were revealing enough without having a hard on. He had taken to wearing sweaters and shirts that were long enough to cover his almost constant state of arousal. Perhaps if and when fantasy became reality his unruly cock would settle down. As it was now, it was the most recalcitrant part of his body and refused to be soothed by anything other than Susan Rogers’ mouth or pussy.

The morning of the finals at the Devon show, Rory walked up to the ring without a horse. He knew all eyes were going to be on Susan to see if she might be invited to ride for the U.S. Olympic team. It wasn’t an actual Olympic trial, but everybody who was anybody was going to be there. This was important to her, and he’d decided to focus on her before schooling his own horses. Susan glanced up and smiled. She was no fool. She knew he’d come up just to watch her ride.

After she put Tank through his paces, she once again executed several of the Airs Above the Ground. She ended with the difficult Capriole – the horse reared up, jumping on its hind feet two or three times before leaping into the air and kicking out with its hind legs. As he landed, she cantered off. The maneuver was very difficult to perform, even if done on long lines with the rider on the ground. In the saddle, it was not only difficult but dangerous. The fact that she rode it perfectly told Rory that she practiced the maneuver far too often.

“You shouldn’t be doing that. The officials wouldn’t like it,” he scolded.

“Lucky for me, the officials aren’t here,” she snarked.

He shook his head. “Fine. I don’t like it. It’s dangerous and it serves no purpose as it’s against the rules.”

“In case you missed it, I’m not big on rules. Besides, you opted out on having a say in how I ride.”

“Damn it, Susan,” he said running his hand through his dark locks, “you could get badly hurt.”

“I haven’t yet.”

“You need a keeper.”

“No, Rory, what I need is an Olympic caliber coach, and so far, I’m batting zero in that department.”

“I know several coaches who have approached you about riding under them.”

“Thanks, but no. I don’t like to ride under anybody. I prefer being on top.”

He chuckled, feeling the last remnant of his resistance tumbling to the ground. He’d teach her to submit and to like having a dominant partner. He was pretty damn certain she would really flourish and find peace in her submission to him.

“I’ll bet you do. But a man would be a fool to allow you too much time in anything resembling a dominant position.”

* * *

Susan noticed the deepening timbre of his voice, along with the increased brogue. There was something about Rory that made her libido kick into high gear. She was rarely flirtatious with men, which made her teasing byplay with Rory all the more exciting.

If she needed to get laid, she generally went into a bar, found a willing partner for the evening and took care of business. Susan had neither the time nor the inclination for relationships. But with Rory it was different. She knew it would never be casual and she told herself she didn’t want it but felt drawn to him like the proverbial moth to a flame all the same.

“And are you a fool, O’Neill?” she asked seductively.

* * *

His cock began to throb against the fly of his breeches, and he was glad his sweater covered it. But more than that, his hand itched with a need to relieve her of her whip and put it to better use striping her glorious backside.

There was no more use denying it, Rory had developed a serious interest in coaching Susan in and out of the ring. He was done taking cold showers because of her. He’d never believed in a fated mate, but all the stories he’d heard said it was a sudden knowing. It hadn’t been that way for him with Susan. It had kind of crept up on him, but once he’d finally acknowledged it, it was difficult, if not impossible, to ignore.

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