Zolin escorted Tomás to a stump in the far corner of the sex tent. “Sit,” he ordered. “Here is more oil.” He pointed to vials along one wall and then glanced down at the bobbing erection between his legs. “Although it appears you may not need them.
“Will you tell me exactly what is going to happen here?” Tomás shifted on the hard stump, little fibers of wood digging into his ass. He wished he’d brought a pillow. Sex on this thing would be a nightmare. If that’s what they expected to happen.
“The women are being prepared for the tent. We will bring them in, one at a time, when you will examine them and feel your magick.” He elevated thick, dark eyebrows. “Some of them are very beautiful.”
“Yeah, yeah, and then what?” Tomás waved, trying to speed up the process. He had a job to do.
“Then you will take a woman, if you choose, and you will become one of us.”
“And if I don’t choose?”
Zolin frowned. “This has never happened.”
With a long exhale, Tomás looked around the tent. It was empty, save for the fire and the oils. He wasn’t certain that any actual sex would happen in the tent, because there was nowhere to get leverage.
He let his knees relax and waved at Zolin.
“Fine. Prepare your women. I will examine them. Then, I need to talk to your elders.”
“Very well.” Zolin took the long piece of wood from around his waist and flicked it at Tomás. A few drops of oil came from the end and landed on his naked skin. Zolin hurried out of the tent and everything in Tomás’ world went pear-shaped. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t think. All he knew was that his dick was enflamed and there was some kind of magick in the air.
He tried to shake himself out of the onslaught of whatever drug had just been sprayed on him, but he couldn’t keep himself fully in control. His erection nearly throbbed and he couldn’t have told the difference between magick and a hole in the wall.
Focus. He looked around the tent again, but everything was wobbly. Zolin had closed the flap when he exited, and the light wobbled with the flickering fire.
Chanting rose to a crescendo outside. A rustle behind him made Tomás’ head whirl around. Something slithered under the edge of the tent. Then it rose to a full height beside him.
Tomás shook his head and glanced back at the tent flap, but no one had come through from the fire. Yet when he looked up, the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen hovered over him.
She had light, caramel-toned skin and long, thick hair that waved its way around her face and down the sides of her very naked breasts. Unlike the girls at the bathing hole, he didn’t need to use his imagination with this girl. Her erect nipples hovered in front of his face and he was tempted to take one of them in his mouth.
The young woman swayed from side to side in front of him, her breasts bouncing with each movement. Her eyes locked onto his, two golden pools of amber with dark, shuttered lashes.
“I am Tomás,” he said, extending a hand. She did not respond. Instead, she looked behind her and put her hands on his shoulders.
“It will be easiest if you do not speak.”
“Yes, yes, feel the magick and all that.” Tomás cleared his throat and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t focus on anything except how her perfect brown nipples begged for his tongue.
Something wet and hot and…tight…slid down his cock. Tomás’ eyes flew open as the other sensations whirled around him. Her thighs on his, her hands on his shoulders.
She groaned as she lowered herself even farther on his erection. Tomás grabbed her hips out of instinct, ready to pull her off.
The woman took his hands in hers and brought them up to her breasts, where she left them. Tomás couldn’t breathe.
Between the drugs and the drumming and the tight grip of her riding him, he could only groan. The grain of the wood dug into his ass and he cried out.
She jumped off him, his dick popping out of her with a thwack. With a few steps backward, she raised her hands to her breasts. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He stood, touching his tender ass. “That stool absolutely was not made for sex. It was not the sex stool.”
“It is the sex stool.” She dropped her hands from her breasts and Tomás’ mouth practically watered. She had so much grace, in every movement, like a dancer. And her long, dark hair swirled around her and occasionally veiled her breasts from his gaze. It was intoxicating.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn’t sure what to say. On one hand, her sitting down on his cock had been a surprise, but he felt drawn toward her, still, and wanted to press her up against a tree and put his dick back inside her.
“How about the sex floor?” Tomás knelt on the smooth, dark dirt.
She raised one eyebrow and walked toward him, taking his offered hand. “This will do, as well.”
Her hands were on his shoulders again, pushing him to the ground, and she knelt over his groin, guiding his cock inside her once more. The squeeze of her, the rhythm, the beauty. His breath caught once more.
Once she had him on his back, she put her hands on his chest and began to ride him. Outside the tent, the singing woman began to sail above the chanting, and everything felt drawn into a frenzy.
The regal beauty bounced over him, her eyes closed, her head back, and her pace increasing with each beat of the drum. Soon, she had outpaced the drummer and was panting over him. She found his hands again and moved them to her breasts.
Tomás kneaded the perfect globes, taking her nipples between his fingers. She cried out in another language. He continued to roll one of the sensitive peaks with his thumb and finger, and slid his other hand down the plane of her belly toward her pussy. His other fingers disappeared between the folds of her sex and she bit her lip as she exploded in a growl.
He wanted nothing more than to turn her over and pound into her, but the orgasm coiling in his belly would not wait. When she cried out in her pleasure, she clamped down on him and Tomás nearly exploded inside her. He held her hips and kept pumping into her as she went limp against him and curled on his chest like a rag doll.
Holy shit, that was hot. He hadn’t given a woman that kind of take-your-will-to-live orgasm in his entire life. He could sure handle this on a regular basis. Her panting in his ear was going to make him hard again if she kept it up. Possessive warmth spread through his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. He wanted to kiss her, but her face was away from his. He would kiss her next time.
Sex tent indeed.
She rolled her head to one side and wobbled to her knees, then used the stool to stand. With hesitant steps, she walked behind the stool and used a bowl of water he hadn’t seen to wash herself.
Tomás noticed a slight trail of something dark between her legs, but her hands clapped in front of his face and he shook himself, trying to focus on her. He grabbed her offered handshake, but instead of introducing herself, she pulled him to his feet.
“There,” she said once he was standing. “We should wash you off and find your clothes. We must leave.”
He found himself laughing. “Leave? Zolin told me to stay here.”
The young beauty shook her head and glanced at the door. The drumming had reached its climax and gone over the edge. She hurried to the back of the tent, behind the stool and got to her knees.
“What are you doing?” he asked, following her. The woman pulled him to his knees as well and he wanted to reach for her swaying breasts again.
Was that how this worked? Did he get to have sex with her again? Gods, he hoped they wouldn’t make him have sex with everyone who came in the tent.
She stuck her hand under the tent and raised it into a very shallow opening. “You’ll have to crawl out first,” she said in Spanish. “Before my father finds us.”
Tomás jumped to his feet, shaking off the drug haze. “Your father?”
“Yes, he is the Chief.”
The regal carriage made sense to him. She was the village prin
cess. Holy shit. He’d just fucked the village princess.
She flapped the tent back and forth. “Hurry, before they find us.”
Tomás waved a hand. “Of course they’ll find us. They’re bringing in another woman when I call them.”
“No, they’re bringing her in now.” She pushed at his naked shoulder. “Hurry.”
Tomás glanced back at the tent door, then to the princess who held up the tent for him to escape. “Why would they bring her in before I called them? What if we were having sex again? Don’t they wait for me to—”
“Just go.” She pushed him again and this time, he went head-first through the small opening. Her hands were on his butt, pushing him the rest of the way out. Then, in a moment, she had crawled out after him.
The princess reached for a piece of cloth that lay folded on the ground. She slipped the creamy, thin garment over her head, then passed him a similarly shaped piece of cloth.
“Put this on,” she urged, pressing the garment into his hands. “We must leave.”
“Leave, where? I need to tal—”
She opened the cloth and shoved the shirt dress thing over his head, cutting off his protest. Tomás pushed at her hands when she settled it over one shoulder, then wrapped something around his waist and secured it.
“There. Now. Run.” The princess jumped to her feet and took off down the dirt path. Tomás stared after her.
She stopped a few feet away and gestured to him. “Run. Now.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I have a mission. I’ve had enough of this ceremony.”
“This isn’t the ceremony.” The princess’s knee-length half-dress billowed around her as she ran back to him. “And there won’t be a ceremony once they find out what you’ve done.”
“What have I done? Technically, I didn’t do anything. You—you did all the work.”
She sighed and took both his hands, pulling him to his feet. Tomás still felt uncertain standing up, between the darkness and the drugs. He put out one foot to steady himself.
“You’ve just defiled the Chief’s daughter.” She dropped his hand and pointed into the dark, away from the glowing fire behind him. “Now. Do what I told you and run.”
* * *
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Other Moonbound Books
Book 1: The Werewolf Cowboy
Book 2: The Werewolf Bodyguard
Book 3: The Werewolf Ranger
Book 4: Chasing a Wolf
Book 5: Seducing a Wolf
COMING IN FEBRUARY AND MARCH
Book 6: Saving a Wolf
Book 7: Broken Wolf
Book 8: Hunted Wolf
Book 9: Forgotten Wolf
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Krystal Shannan
Krystal Shannan, also known as Emma Roman, lives in a sprawling ranch style home with her husband, daughter, and a pack of rescue Basset Hounds. She is an advocate for the American Society of Autism and shares the experiences and adventures she’s been through with her daughter whenever she can.
Needless to say, life is never boring when you have an elementary-aged special needs child and half a dozen 4-legged friends roaming the house. They keep her and her husband busy, smiling, and laughing.
Krystal writes magick and Emma doesn’t. If you are looking for leisurely-paced sweet romance, her books are probably not for you. However, for those looking for a story filled with adventure, passion, and just enough humor to make you laugh out loud. Welcome home!
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Camryn Rhys
Author of hot historical romance with paranormal elements and co-author of the Moonbound series--a spinoff of the VonBrandt Werewolves from Somewhere, TX.
Loves Florentines and lightbulbs. Writes about cowboys who cook and demons who captain airships and werewolves who save the world. Once met Queen Elizabeth. Can swallow a sword. Eats jalepenos by the handful. Former chef, turned writer. Currently living in Canada. Owns a falcon. Not all parts of this bio are equally true.
Find Camryn Online:
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camrynrhys.com
Copyright ©2016 by Krystal Shannan & Camryn Rhys. All Rights Reserved. Published by Moonbound Books.
No part or parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, in any language, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.
Edited by C.A. Szarek
Cover and Logo Design by Erin Dameron-Hill
Interior Print Format by Dallas Hodge
Digital Format by Moonbound Books
Somewhere, TX town, concept, and characters created by Chick Tales, LLC and used with permission.
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The Werewolf Ranger (Moonbound Book 3) Page 10
