Peyton's Ride (Riding With The Hunt, #1) Read Online Free PDF

irresistible draw to the creature. Large, velvety ears pricked forward, and huge, blood-red eyes rolled toward her. 
    It whickered again, and she made an attempt to control her breathing. The fae lowered its head toward her, and she reached out with one shaking hand. She traced the rim of one nostril and petted the super soft space between its ears, down its nose. Warm breath blew on her forearm in a soothing stream, and she scratched behind its jaw.
    A quick peek confirmed the phooka’s sex, and she blushed when the suspicion that she’d been caught looking settled in. A sound like a deep chuckle reverberated from his chest, and she tried to throw that aside. Horses didn’t laugh.
    But Ian would.
    As the shock wore away, agony set in from the injuries in her leg and shoulder. The lumps and bumps on her head and elbow reported nothing at all to her nerve endings, but the Fae inflicted wounds blazed with fiery pain.
    She opened her mouth to speak, but swallowed the words. Legends of the phooka abounded, sometimes they helped humans, and sometimes they did not. But one thread ran through almost all of fairy lore: one did not thank the Fae. After a moment’s consideration, she wrapped her head around a suitable response to his intervention.
    “I shall never forget what you have done for me this evening. You are quite the magnificent specimen of phooka. With a gorgeous, black, coat and strong, muscular physique.”
    The phooka raised and lowered his head, tapped one hoof on the floor, and snorted. Despite her pain, she giggled and tried to remain upright.
    “Aww, now, did I give you an ego boost? I think you know how wonderful you look without my praise.” She bent her uninjured leg and gripped the shelf built into the counter to try and stand. Talking to phookas, deadly battles, and clawed up body aside, being near the Fae compelled her to get on her feet and not appear helpless.
    The phooka inserted his head under her arm pit, and she clenched his coal-black mane with both hands. He straightened, taking most of the weight for her as she got to a standing position, her knees quaked with exertion. The wounds on her lower leg released a new flow of blood down into her boot and soaked her sock.
    She wound her arms around his neck and snuggled into the heat of muscles and a familiar, icy smell beneath the sweat and blood. Tingles crept over her body, marched along each inch of her skin, and raised the tiny hairs at the back of her neck. Energy compressed and tightened into a ball in her solar plexus, then released in a shower of fireworks that danced over her consciousness.
    The equine neck and chest she’d plastered herself to disappeared and were replaced by the smooth skin of a man. Thick, corded arms circled her waist, and her nose pressed into a large, firm pectoral muscle. She leaned back and tilted her head to take in the face of her Fae protector. Strong, peaked eye brows over green eyes bright with an inner fire stared back. The wide, sensuous mouth was bracketed by small stress lines, and blood spattered his forehead and cheeks. Soft tendrils of black hair flowed over the back of her hands, and she sifted through the loose strands.
    If a person had sex with another person who could be an animal, was it bestiality? Cause she’d break that law. Thousands of times with this guy.
    He kept a light grip on her sides, but a hard, long cock swelled between them. Desire swam and ignited in her, magic bathed her aura, erased any worry over bleeding to death, and her nipples hardened. Creeping warmth swept over her, numbness replacing her pain.
    “Ian?” She traced his cheekbone, wonder and amazement shutting out any fear.
    He nodded.
    “Am I going to die?”
    “Not unless you want to.” He lowered his mouth toward hers and stopped when their lips were a millimeter apart. “I can save you, but there will be consequences. This fae had poisonous claws. They stab their victims, and then eat them while they’re still