Mark's Welsh Black (MM)

Bourne Bulls 4

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 31,776
2 Ratings (5.0)
[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Cowboy Romance, M/M, HEA]
Mark was a little odd. He worked on a bull farm but disliked the beasts and couldn’t abide mud. So when his brothers needed his help out in the field, Mark was not a happy individual.
Mark could not believe the mud monster that appeared before him on his visit. But there was something about this mud man that intrigued Mark.
Mud didn’t bother Patrick Rutherford, which was lucky as he was always covered in the stuff.
When Mark turned up to look at his Welsh Black bulls, Patrick decided he wanted to keep this immaculate bull farmer with possibly the cleanest boots in the whole of Yorkshire. But Patrick’s home was surrounded by mud. He had only just finished rebuilding it. Inside was finished, but he’d have to get Mark through the mud to be able to see it. They say opposites attract, but could they really?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Mark's Welsh Black (MM)
2 Ratings (5.0)

Mark's Welsh Black (MM)

Bourne Bulls 4

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 31,776
2 Ratings (5.0)
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Cover Art by Harris Channing




Mark sat in his car and stared down a very muddy lane, which was ahead of him. He already had his Wellingtons on, this time. He may never have been a Boy Scout, but his mum led a local Girl Guide group. She said it was to help her remember there were such things as girls, ladies, lasses, and all things pink and frilly. She’d been doing this Mark’s entire life and used to disappear off at least once a year on a Guide camp and in her words, “to go play girly games and leave Noah with their boys and plenty of mud.” Mark had asked to go once but his mum had said no, her girl time was sacred. Mark hadn’t realised at the time that he needed to be a Girl Guide to participate, but after his brothers finished teasing him about it, he had realised it wasn’t an option for him.

Mark still wasn’t a fan of the great outdoors and that wonderful substance known to the masses as mud, yet here he was sat in his SUV, looking at a stream of the brown and disgusting stuff. He could only refer to it as sludge, which unfortunately was heading straight to a farmyard full of even more of the vile stuff. All this to explain to a ginger giant named Pat that John wanted to see his crossbreeds. Something he could have done by phone if the man ever answered his phone. Mark knew he should go home and try again, keeping his grey pinstripe clean and tidy, but he’d crossed swords with Adam who’d said with everything everyone had on at the moment, he would have to do more hands-on work. Adam hadn’t been quite as polite as that, but at least it explained the reason why he was sat in this ridiculous position, not wanting to get his freshly hosed-down and clean Wellies dirty.

“Yo mate, you need some help? That SUV of yours can handle a little mud,” Pat’s surprisingly jolly voice rang out. Then a mud monster approached the car. Mark started shaking. At first it was barely noticeable, but by the time the abomination had approached his car he was hanging on to the steering wheel just to keep still.

“All I wanted was a clean job juggling figures in a tidy office with clean equipment and a car park designed for small hybrids, not mud-collecting monsters like these.” Mark didn’t stop his rant as the mud monster approached. He knew that thing was going to put its muddy mitts on his car.

And it did.

Mark decided that now was a good time to take a break.

So he did.


* * * *


“Mark, Mark!” Pat shouted toward his favourite Yorkshire man, banging his hands on the side of a very clean Bourne Bulls SUV. Pat almost felt sorry for messing up his car, but it was only mud. The man didn’t need to faint.

Pat had just finished with the plinths to hold in the cement for the last part of the yard. He’d dug out so much mud with the small digger he’d rented he looked like he’d been spawned in the stuff. Even his beard was clogged thick and was going to have to go.

Pat had grown his for the last decade but now every man had them and it was the trendy thing to sport. The last thing Pat ever wanted to be was trendy. He was the epitome of nothing trendy much to his sisters’ horror. Pat laughed. His sisters would love Mark. He was much more your typical gay man than Pat ever would be. Mark probably loved shopping and discussing colour schemes for rooms. Pat could really do with that sort of help with his home. It needed the personal touch that a man like Mark could give. Pat’s only problem would be if that was all Mark wanted to give. Because Pat was realising he wanted so much more.

Pat pulled the door open and the man’s scent hit him. The clean, fresh scent of… Pat sniffed again. He recognised that cologne. It was what his sisters had bought him for Christmas last year. It smelt a hell of a lot better on Mark than it ever had on him.

Pat carefully pushed Mark to the passenger side and climbed in the car.

“Bloody hell, love, you have got to be kidding,” Pat said as he pushed the seat back to its farthest setting.

“Un-huh,” was the mumbled reply he received from the car’s owner.

“You just relax, sweetheart. I’ll get us home.” Pat really liked the sound of that. He could only wish that that had been Mark’s intention.

“No mud, no more mud,” Mark muttered before he just continued repeating himself in a loop. Pat tried to reassure him that there was far less mud the way they were going to go, as he jumped out and opened a gate to a clear field behind the new building.

Pat hoped this would keep his man happy. Pat stopped. Where had that thought come from, “his man”? Pat was a practical kind of guy keeping both feet planted firmly on the ground. Mark was not his and looking at the pristine state of him, he never would be. Pat sighed as he climbed back in the cab, best get Mr. Bourne and his ultra-clean Wellies sorted out.




Pat had sat and listened to his houseguest toss and turn in the spare bed situated in the room above his bedroom. Every thud he’d heard he questioned his reasoning on letting the man go to bed alone. In the end, Pat couldn’t listen anymore and crawled out of his pit. He’d get a drink and try and dissuade his body that there was a delicious morsel in his spare bed upstairs just ripe for… Pat never finished his thought as a fairy elephant was coming down the stairs and complaining they creaked!

Pat could not remember what happened next as his whole body was on autopilot to get Mark Bourne naked and sweaty, beneath him preferably, but hey, as long as they were satisfying each other he didn’t care. Top, bottom, all was good.

Finally, he scooped the man into his arms and headed straight for his bed. He loved the way Mark voiced his thoughts without realizing it made reading his soon-to-be lover and working out their feelings so much easier.

“And please don’t ever stop,” Pat murmured as he swallowed Mark’s reply

Pat slid his hands down Mark’s warm, smooth torso. It felt so soft under his rough hands. Mark’s softness was beautiful to Pat. He didn’t want some buff, chiseled gym warrior. He wanted someone who felt real just like Mark. Suddenly Pat’s hands paused in their exploration.

“Why Mark Bourne, what are you doing walking round a man’s home without any underwear on?” Pat said, letting his hands finish their exploration.

Mark giggled and Pat was really growing to love that sound. So it wasn’t butch or manly. It wasn’t important. What was important was that Mark and his man were having fun. Talking of fun, Pat slipped his hands down around Mark’s perfect bubble butt and squeezed his fingers into that firm flesh, pulling it closer but finding no friction. “Clothes off now!”

Pat didn’t mean to be rude but he wanted that skin.

“You, too,” Mark muttered, trying to pull Pat’s old college T-shirt over his head and getting lost somewhere inside it. It took half a second for Pat to drop his sweats and fling his T-shirt from his shoulders. Then he was reaching inside the T-shirt to find his gorgeous lover. 

“I’ll teach you how to get undressed, sweetheart, as long as you promise to stay that way,” Pat murmured as he pulled the T-shirt free and found himself standing before a pale-skinned beauty.

“Wow,” Mark gasped and sat up on the end of the bed and ran his smooth hands up Pat’s fur-covered thighs. Pat had to force himself not to laugh, or even worse, giggle, as Mark’s fingers threaded through his furred legs and along the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. Suddenly all thought fled Pat’s mind as he watched Mark’s tongue sneak out to lick the tip of his rock-hard erection and swipe the bead of precum on its tip.

Pat had to grab on to Mark’s shoulders as he was certain his knees were going to give way as Mark slowly sucked more of the head into his mouth. Feeling the warm, wet heat envelop his cock was absolute bliss. The fact that it was Mark’s mouth was beyond his wildest hopes. He knew he wanted the pristine smaller man in his suits and spotless Wellies, but to have him sat naked on the end of his bed with Pat’s cock filling his mouth was Christmas and birthday wishes and dreams come true, from the day he’d hit puberty and he’d come to realize boys were far more his thing than those frilly, flappy pink things.

Mark widened his mouth and took nearly all of Pat’s cock down his throat, making up for any shortfall with his fingers. Pat felt his balls swell and tighten and he knew if they didn’t stop now it would be all over for him in less than a minute.

“We need to slow down or I’m going to come down your throat, and, God, that’s so good.” Pat pulled his cock free with a pop. “And I need to be inside you when that happens.”

“You were in me,” Mark said with a grin.

“Oh, we’re getting cocky now are we?” Pat smiled 

Mark just grinned and pushed himself back up the bed. “I hope so,” he said, lying back while still smiling at Pat. 

Pat grabbed his lube and a pack of condoms he picked up in the vague hope he’d get to use them and was eternally grateful that he was always optimistic.

He crawled up the bed and over Mark, letting the man’s hands roam wherever he wished. He paused when Mark’s lips latched on to a nipple and Pat groaned.[HM2]  Pat loved his nipples tenderized by a lover though due to them remaining hidden beneath the fur most men just rubbed and tugged them. Mark’s oral fixation with any and all of his body was fine with Pat as he groaned as Mark savagely bit into his tender flesh, letting his tongue ease the sting afterward. 

“Oh Christ!” Pat cried when Mark repeated his ministrations on the other nipple. He was too close and pulled Mark’s legs back, spreading them to give the perfect view of what was in his mind, the prize. “I’m sorry, but this is going to be fast, wicked, and nasty.”

“Perfect,” Mark replied, holding his legs back for Pat.

Pat poured lube onto his palm, soaking his fingers in the slippery substance and then going straight in with two fingers. He swore next time he’d give Mark time to get accustomed to the stretch, but listening to Mark’s groans and the way he was lifting his hips to meet Pat’s fingers neither of them wanted to wait this time. Pat added a third, scissoring his fingers and rubbing Marks sweet spot.

“Now! I’m ready pleeaasse,” Mark moaned.

Pat pulled his fingers free and put a condom on his purple weeping cock. To say he was ready was an understatement. Smoothing more lube on his shaft he faced his lover.

The smile Mark gave him made Pat’s insides melt. He lifted up Mark’s hips and centered his cock before he finally pushed home.

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