Six o’clock in the morning, precisely.
The indoor arena was bathed in pale copper light that sliced through the mist via the high windows in the roof.
Revan stood in the center of the arena, holding the reins of Corrado, a dark brown Warmblood gelding with a calm posture that he had deliberately chosen for this morning.
He would not let Alesya ride Phantom.
Phantom was too wild, too dangerous for a veterinarian who thought taming horses in the Andes hills gave her the right to ride a Grand Prix monster.
The sliding door of the arena opened.
The sound of boots crunching on wet sand echoed.
Revan turned.
And for the second time in the last twenty-four hours, his breath caught in the base of his throat.
Alesya stepped inside.
She had followed his instructions.
She wore tight black riding breeches made of technical grip material that hugged every curve of her lower body, from her ankles and muscular slender thighs to her firm hips.
A fitted dark gray long-sleeved shirt accentuated her small waist and the rise and fall of her chest in rhythm with her confident steps.
Her brown hair was neatly braided back, revealing her smooth, slender neck and flawless jawline.
She looked dangerous.
Not because she carried a weapon.
But because she didn’t realize how easily she could shatter a man’s self-control just by the way she walked across the sand.
“You’re on time, Dr.
Vargas,” Revan said coldly, hiding the wild vibration that suddenly burned through his blood.
Alesya stopped beside Corrado, eyeing the large horse with her alert honey-brown eyes.
“I’m never late when it comes to my patients.”
Alesya extended her hand, letting Corrado sniff the back of her fingers before patting the horse’s neck with practiced gentleness.
Then, the woman’s eyes shifted to Revan.
“I thought we would be using Phantom.”
“You’re not ready for Phantom,” Revan cut in sharply.
“Corrado has the most stable gait on this ranch.
If you can’t master your posture on his back, you will never touch Phantom’s saddle.”
Alesya lifted her chin, accepting the challenge without words.
She stepped to the left side of the saddle, grabbed the pommel and cantle, and placed her left foot in the iron stirrup.
With one graceful and powerful push, Alesya swung her right leg over Corrado’s back and landed on the leather saddle.
Revan watched every second of it.
The way her inner thighs immediately clamped onto the saddle flap.
The way her back remained perfectly straight.
There was natural talent there.
Wild talent not polished by elite European equestrian schools, but born from pure instinct.
But pure instinct wasn’t enough to survive in Revan’s world.
“Your posture is messy,” Revan said flatly, stepping closer.
Alesya frowned, looking down at Revan from the saddle.
“I’m sitting upright.”
“Sitting upright doesn’t mean you’re riding.”
Revan stepped to the horse’s left side, approaching Alesya’s legs.
“Take both feet out of the stirrups.”
“What?”
“Get your feet out of the stirrups.
Now.”
Alesya huffed in annoyance, but she slipped both boots out of the iron rests, letting her legs hang freely on Corrado’s sides.
Revan stepped closer.
One step.
Until his body stood right next to Alesya’s left thigh.
The heat of her body radiated through her riding breeches.
The scent of lavender and soap wrapped around Revan’s senses, making his head spin instantly.
Revan raised both hands.
Without warning, Revan’s palms landed squarely on Alesya’s inner thighs.
Alesya jerked.
Her breath stopped in her throat.
“Revan!” Alesya hissed, her eyes widening in shock.
Alesya’s thigh muscles instantly hardened under Revan’s grip.
“Don’t tense up,” Revan whispered, his voice rough and dark.
Revan’s fingers pressed into the adductor muscles of her inner thighs, rotating their position inward anatomically.
The touch was intimate.
Too intimate.
Revan could feel the warmth of her skin penetrating the thin synthetic fabric, feeling the firmness of her perfectly formed thigh muscles.
“Your thighs are too open outward,” Revan continued, his eyes staring at her thighs before slowly rising to lock onto Alesya’s wildly gleaming brown eyes.
“You ride with your seat bones, not your knees.
Open your hips, rotate your thigh muscles inward, and let your body weight sink into the saddle.”
Revan’s right hand moved slightly higher on Alesya’s inner thigh, correcting the angle of her hip joint.
Alesya drew a sharp breath through her slightly parted lips.
A pink blush burned her cheeks.
Not from shame.
But from the forbidden passion that instantly exploded between them.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” Alesya whispered hoarsely, her voice trembling as she held back the burning sensation crawling from her thighs to her lower abdomen.
“I’m teaching you equine biomechanics, Alesya,” Revan whispered low.
Revan stepped around behind Corrado’s tail and stood on Alesya’s right side.
He repeated the same movement on her right thigh.
Pressing.
Guiding.
Feeling how Alesya’s body trembled slightly every time his fingers brushed the sensitive muscles at the base of her thighs.
After finishing with her legs, Revan didn’t pull back.
He placed his left hand on the back of the saddle and his right hand on the cantle, caging Alesya’s body from the side.
Revan pressed his broad chest against Alesya’s back.
Very close.
So close that Alesya could feel Revan’s pounding heartbeat against her back.
Revan leaned forward slightly, bringing his face close to Alesya’s ear until her fine strands of hair brushed against his rough cheek.
The scent of her skin was so intoxicating it destroyed every inch of his defenses.
“Your back,” Revan whispered right beside Alesya’s ear.
Revan’s right hand moved forward, his broad palm pressing flat against Alesya’s lower abdomen, just above her navel.
Alesya froze.
Her abdominal muscles tightened instantly under Revan’s palm.
Meanwhile, Revan’s left hand landed on the curve of Alesya’s lower back.
Revan pulled his left hand forward while pushing his right hand backward, forcing Alesya’s pelvis to tilt into a perfect neutral angle on the saddle.
“Push your pelvis forward,” Revan whispered, his voice raspy and heavy with desire he had to suppress with all his might.
“Lock your core muscles here.
Don’t let there be any gap between your tailbone and the saddle leather.”
Alesya’s breathing became rapid, her chest rising and falling in a chaotic rhythm.
Every time she exhaled, her back rubbed against Revan’s hard chest.
The sensation was incredibly hot.
Suffocating.
“Hold the reins,” Revan commanded, his voice almost a sigh against Alesya’s neck.
Alesya grabbed Corrado’s leather reins with her trembling fingers.
Revan’s hands moved up, covering both of Alesya’s hands from above.
Revan’s rough, warm skin completely enveloped the woman’s slender fingers.
“Close your fingers,” Revan whispered, guiding Alesya’s hands to feel the vibration in Corrado’s mouth.
“Don’t pull.
Feel the rhythm with your hips.”
Revan slowly released his body and stepped back to the center of the arena.
The cold air instantly replaced the warmth of the man’s body, making Alesya feel like she had suddenly lost her footing.
“Start with a trot,” Revan ordered, his voice sounding like a cruel instructor again.
“Two full laps.”
Alesya took a deep breath, trying to clear the hot fog from her head.
She pressed her heels into Corrado’s sides.
The large horse immediately stepped forward, transitioning from a walk to a rhythmic sitting trot.
Every impact of Corrado’s hooves on the sand shook Alesya’s body.
Without stirrups to support her feet, Alesya was forced to use all her inner thigh strength and abdominal muscles to stay attached to the saddle.
Her muscles screamed in pain.
Cold sweat began to dampen her temples and neck.
But Alesya refused to give up.
She remembered the pressure of Revan’s hands on her hips, remembered the pelvic position the man had taught her, and let her body move in unison with the horse’s back.
In the middle of the arena, Revan stood frozen, watching the woman.
His gray eyes glowed dark.
The way Alesya’s hips moved on the saddle.
The way her body absorbed every vibration of Corrado’s steps with a wild and sensual grace.
It was the most erotic sight Revan had ever witnessed in his life.
“Now canter!” Revan shouted, breaking the silence of the arena.
“Transition at the next corner!”
Alesya shifted her outside leg back, signaling Corrado.
Corrado immediately launched into a canter a fast and powerful three-beat gait.
The morning wind blew a few strands of hair loose from Alesya’s braid.
The horse’s speed increased.
But as Corrado turned sharply at the west corner of the arena, the shadow of a pigeon flying low near the roof vent startled the horse.
Corrado jerked his shoulder to the right suddenly.
His gait broke.