Earth Borne Read online

  He stroked her hair away from her face and peered at her as she nuzzled against him in peaceful slumber.

  Had her affections since changed? He prayed each of the times she’d melted in his arms had been because she’d hungered for him. Not because this nymph been unable to deny him.

  The notion of her rejection caused him to flinch. She was the only woman who’d ever refused his advances. Here she was, the sole woman he couldn’t resist.

  She wasn’t going to be like the other women he’d claimed. He didn’t crave her just once. No. A grin tugged at his lips. He’d keep her in his bed for a week, at least. His shaft throbbed anew. Thoughts like those would make this one hell of a long night.

  She shifted, her hip inadvertently rubbing against his length. He had to take care of it. She wasn’t ready to awaken to that. Not yet.

  Thereus maneuvered Kalliste around in his arms and clasped his cock in his hand, intending to give it a quick release.

  The most delicious warmth surrounded her and the heavy scent of male tantalized her nose. Melita lifted her lashes. Firm pectoral muscles came into focus as she blinked. Her perusal slid over a mountainous terrain of smooth brawny flesh, dips and peaks her tongue yearned to explore. Downward, she feasted with greed, until rugged masculine fingers obscured her destination.

  Instantly, her sleepy eyes were on alert, widening to drink in more of the erotic scene before her. She suppressed a gasp and managed to remain still.

  Thereus rested beside her, turned toward her but on his back. His long, muscular body stretched out in the bed. His long, muscular, nude body.

  In his large, powerful hand was another large, powerful part of his body. Magnificent, oh yes, indeed he was. His skilled fingers grasped his rigid shaft and pumped up and down in deliciously sensuous strokes.

  Her focus shot to his face. His lips were pressed tight, his eyes closed and brows drawn together.

  Her body swelled in response to the temptation of Thereus, warmth and moisture welling between her thighs. Thighs as bare as Thereus’s. Her heart gave a rapid series of thumps. Lusty centaur, he’d undressed her.

  In recollection of his caress, her blood rushed through her body, her skin tingling in awareness. Her fingers curled into her palms, aching to be the ones touching him. His body was built for pure, raw pleasure. The nymph in her awakened, and longings she’d long suppressed suddenly became unbearable.

  She wet her lips and his thick lashes lifted to reveal incendiary gemstones.

  His eyes were hooded, not a trace of censure or embarrassment that she’d spied on him. No, he was a creature of passion, a god of carnality. He’d never apologize for his sensual nature. In his gaze, only hunger burned.

  His lust blasted through her like a sand storm in the desert. Hot. Painful.

  Melita’s nymph instincts consumed her. Desire surged throughout. With Thereus, a fire blazed in her no man except him had ever been able to ignite. Holding his stare, she brushed her fingers across his. He whistled low and his hand dropped to his hip.

  She tucked the blanket around her body and shifted onto her knees to use her hands on him. Indeed, he was so large she’d need both.

  Her gaze didn’t break contact with his as she bent forward and ran the tip of her tongue along his shaft. He hissed, throwing his head back as pleasure spiked through him. An indulgence she augmented in the way only a nymph could. Her mind seized onto the erotic waves radiating from him and drove them back.

  She planned on giving him pleasure such as he’d never experienced.

  Here with him, her every sense was of Thereus, of his strong body, the smooth silk of his hardness in her hands and mouth.

  As she nibbled the tip of him, he tangled his fingers in her hair and guided her head to take him in her mouth, but she had her own ideas. She heightened his arousal to a point she was certain he’d never experienced. He released her, his hand dropping crippled to his side. Helpless to do anything other than submit to her seductive torture.

  She alternated between stroking and sucking him, licking his dark taste. She cupped his heavy sac in one hand, the rigid steel of his length in her other. Each time she detected him on the verge of release, she withdrew, prolonging this wicked bliss.

  Melita was about to explode too. Never before had fire this hot burned in her blood. Succumbing to her nymph impulses, she couldn’t get enough of him, this male she craved like no other. What he asked, she would give. No fight, no denial would ever rise in her. He alone made her weak.

  Just as she burned beneath his passion, the compulsion to ease it consumed her senses. As much from her longings as from her nymph nature. He arched his spine against the mattress. A sheen of perspiration made his body glisten like one of the gods. His groans grew to fill the chamber, so she permitted him the release he craved. His thick, perfect shaft shot out his seed, and he roared in ecstasy. The sweetest sound she’d ever heard.

  She wrung out the last ecstasy from him and sighed against his hip. With a low growl, he flipped her onto her back and pinned her beneath him, his lips hot and demanding on hers.

  What could he possibly want? The muscles in his body trembled from his release. She squeaked in protest as his kisses seared her skin, his lips and hands everywhere at once.

  “Oh no, nymph, I always reciprocate,” he purred in her ear, his voice husky and oh so deep with masculine control. He wrenched aside the sheet she’d tucked around her body. She was completely nude, in front of a male, for the first time in her life. Melita squirmed and winced as her wriggling served to slide her nude flesh against his.

  She’d had a child, had nursed him, and she carried the scars of her pregnancy. He would be appalled if he saw her. She shoved him off and threw the sheet over her body to hide it. “Oh, no thank you.” She refused his offer of… Well, she didn’t actually know what.

  ***

  A deep red flushed her cheeks from more than their intimacy. Kalliste huddled on the corner of the bed, the blanket gathered around her ears. Why was she suddenly shy? After the sensuous torment she’d made him endure? Where had the goddess of love who’d pleasured him beyond ecstasy gone? She blushed like a shy maiden who’d never been with a man. No, it couldn’t be.

  “Kalliste, haven’t you had any lovers these past years?” Surely she had, for she’d fondled him with an expertise no virgin possessed.

  The deep scarlet in her cheeks drained to a pale cream at his question, and again he sniffed the acrid stench of fear on her. He didn’t like it, not one bit. His precious female should never be afraid of him.

  “I, ah.” She fumbled with the blankets, staring at her hands. “No.”

  He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white. How? Had he been wrong? Kalliste was so very desirable.

  Thereus snapped at the hope floating inside him. No, she must’ve had thousands of suitors. Someone taught her those tricks. Her nymph nature alone wouldn’t be enough.

  Guilt surged anew, its acid punching holes in his gut. He should have been here, should have been the one to do so.

  He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Bloody ridiculous. Yet, perhaps, she did speak the truth. Perhaps he should as well.

  “I have, Kalliste. I was unfaithful to you.” He cleared the thick lump of shame lodging his throat. “Though you might hear otherwise, ’twas only once. She was the reason I left.” He cleared his throat. “You were right. You do deserve an explanation, and—”

  “I know.” Her gaze flicked to his before returning to the blanket. “I don’t blame you. I forgive you. Please don’t—” She clamped her teeth on her bottom lip.

  He frowned. Bloody odd. Rightfully, she should be furious. Hurt. Yet, she’d forgiven him? How had she known about the woman?

  “Thank you.” His words hung, a murky fog in the awkward air between them. Pausing, he waited for her to admit her guilt as well. He would forgive her. They would begin anew.

  Her lips remained pressed tight, her swallow audible.

  Sweet gods,
it wasn’t true, was it?

  Kalliste inhaled sharply. “Thereus, I’ve never known another.” The sincerity in her tone punched him in the gut, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  His nose tingled as he sniffed in the sweet, floral scent of truth. “In all this time, you’ve not had any male court you.” He wasn’t sure if it was a question or an utterance of disbelief.

  Her breathing hitched. “There has never been anyone but you.”

  Whether she’d been tempted by another or not, the truth stood. She’d never acted upon it. Not like him.

  His head dropped, his shoulders deflated. I’m such a bastard. He tamped down his horse’s cries of triumph that she had only ever been his.

  Most of all, he would mend this.

  “I vow to you, Kalliste, I will never touch another woman. Melita, I want only you. I…” He was about to tell her about his bonding to her, but this was not the right timing. Instead, he uttered another truth. “I need you.”

  Her lips parted before curving into a smile. A corresponding grin spread across his face. He took her smile as an encouragement to settle beside her. Leaning into her, he nuzzled her neck, his other hand tugging on the edge of the blanket she’d wrapped around herself like armor.

  “But then, how did you learn such erotic torture? Sweet nymph, I’ve never experienced such ecstasy. You are incredible.” His teasing tone was light, yet she tensed in his arms. He drew back and studied her. “Sweetling, please, you can tell me anything. You can trust me.” He cupped her face in his hands and peered into her innocent glimmering eyes.

  Those beautiful depths squinted in pain. “My brother, Philaeus.” Her tone sounded distant. “He hated me, and when he discovered I’m a nymph, he despised me even more. He was always searching for ways to make my life miserable.” She stopped, her body tensing further in his arms. “One night, when he and his soldiers were imbibing, he…” Her voice broke. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Philaeus declared it was time I put my talents to use.”

  He’d been certain her tears would spill, but her jaw tightened and anger tore through her tone. “He forced me to arouse his friends, who took wenches while he watched. He said if I refused, he’d have them rape me instead.”

  Thereus snarled, rage pouring out of him. His fists clenched, ready to pummel the male who’d dared hurt his Kalliste. Philaeus. Bastard. He’d pay for this despicable act.

  The sharp note of Kalliste’s fear pierced through this anger. He focused on her and viewed the frightened woman who’d been abused. She shrank beneath the covers. Thereus exhaled a long sigh and cradled her face in his hands. Seeing her frightened softened him even more. “Shh, sweet love.”

  “Are you angry with me?”

  Her words clutched at his heart. “No, no, of course not. How could I be?”

  She shook her head and blinked. “I’m a nymph. Don’t you hate me?”

  Her words tore through him, sharp, angular blades. What must her life have been like? Though his family was frustrated with him at times, they loved him. Kalliste’s despised her. Every day they must’ve made her feel worthless.

  To be told their hatred stemmed from her nature? He almost laughed at the absurdity. Nymphs were one of the rarest, most desirable creatures the gods had ever created. Irresistible to even Zeus. She was not some lowly whore. The idea that she’d been treated as one drove his blood to boil once more.

  A nymph was every centaur’s dream to bond with—a mate who matched even their insatiable appetites.

  “How could I hate you, Melita?” Against her objections, he gathered her in his arms and clasped her tightly. His lips against her neck, he whispered, “What your brother did was wrong, and I’d love to make him suffer for it. I wish I could take away your past. No one deserves to be treated with such brutality.” Gods, did she truly believe her brother had the right to subject her to such a cruel punishment? How did she not believe she was worth so much more?

  Right, like you’ve treated her properly, his horse sneered at him. His guilt rose from his gut to rest as bile in his throat. No one, not even he, had ever shown her kindness.

  This whole situation befuddled him. He’d witnessed the protectiveness Philaeus displayed around Kalliste when he’d escorted her to Westgard. She’d even clung to her brother for one final embrace. The gods had bound their races and their fathers had arranged this marriage. Thereus hadn’t the heart to refuse his father, and he presumed Kalliste felt the same. That her family treated her well. Then again, he didn’t doubt his wife viewed her marriage to a centaur as an exile.

  The past was etched in stone, beyond his ability to salvage. However, the future was his to redeem. He vowed he would do everything within his power to show Kalliste the respect and compassion he should have from the beginning. Thereus would stop at nothing to show her how precious she was to him.

  That she was his.

  Her brows wrinkled in puzzlement. Instead of answering her, he crushed her to him and kissed her breathless. Every touch a reaffirmation of his vow.

  He would reciprocate everything she’d ever done for him. Thereus tugged on the blankets, murmuring reassurances against her protests. “I’ll never harm you, nymph. I swear it.” Her lust dispersed her fear and his hands claimed her round, full breasts. Gods, they were spectacular. Reveling in their heavy weight, he bent his head to tease her sweet pink nipples with his tongue.

  She gasped and sputtered, “No, please, d-don’t look at me.”

  At her baffling words, Thereus regretfully removed his admiration from Kalliste’s breasts to her face. “Whyever not, sweetling? You are a vision to rival Aphrodite.” He grinned, mischievously lowering his hands along the curve of her waist.

  “I am not!” Her cheeks flushed a bright scarlet. “I’ve had a child, nursed Lucian. I’ve got scars.” Her sparkling eyes and the defiant tilt of her chin challenged him to deny it.

  He chuckled. Here was her vanity. He’d begun to deem she didn’t possess any, the way she played about in the dirt. “Where, my Lady?” He raised a brow and scanned her supple flesh.

  “Here.” She tentatively drew his hand to her lower belly.

  “These, my Lady, are not scars,” he murmured.

  “They’re not?” Her reply came airy as his hand circled her navel and inched lower.

  “No, my Lady. These are scars.” Leaning back, he pointed out his battle wounds, showing her a jagged six-inch long mark on his side, beneath his ribcage, and another on his right forearm. He had more, plenty more, from his younger days, when he hadn’t been much of a fighter. In fact, it wasn’t until he’d met Arsenius that he’d developed his talents as a warrior. His scars were reminders of how weak he’d once been.

  He ran his hand over the spiky crater on his stomach. “This wound is from a spear, five years ago. Nearly killed me.” Melita’s eyes grew wide. “Had my friend Arsenius not stumbled upon me as a gang of thugs attacked me with the intent of murder…” He shook his head. No need to add that Arsenius had assumed his frenzy—the gift from his war god father, Ares. He possessed an ability to fight Thereus had never witnessed before or since. Once in his frenzy, Arsenius was unstoppable. While centaurs fought with passion, the pyrate captain was devoid of emotion. Raw, pure violence powered him. The nymph in Melita would probably not admire that tidbit.

  “He sounds like a remarkable friend.”

  “He is.” Thereus grinned. “See the difference? Mine are grisly, and moreover, they’re the result of violence and malice. Yours, Melita, are beautiful.” With his fingertips, he traced the dozen or so silvery lines crisscrossing her lower belly. “You must wear them proudly. They proclaim you are a mother.” He studied her face and cupped her cheek with his other hand. “You carried life within you, nourished and protected it. You can’t know how much I wish I’d been here to see your belly round and full with my child.”

  His horse grew aroused at the image of her carrying their offspring. “Few women are strong enough to survive giving birth to
a centaur. You are,” he whispered, pride turning his grin wicked.

  It was true. His brother Oreius lost his bonded wife in childbirth to their twins. Every centaur carried this fear.

  Kalliste didn’t answer him, not with words. Her pupils dilated, her eyes darkening. He scented the honey of her sex. She wanted him. Needed him.

  He wasn’t about to deny her.

  The hand on her stomach slipped lower, until he found her nub. He coaxed her lips to his and nudged her against the bed while massaging her bud until she bloomed. His lips left hers to kiss a path downward. His horse scented her arousal and Thereus’s upper lip curled. As his mouth claimed her nub, she moaned. He growled in triumph, sliding a finger into her and groaning at the slick wetness of her sheath. His hard cock was proof of how badly he hungered to take her, but not yet. Not yet. Let me give her this first.

  He began a rhythm, lapping at her honey while he thrust his fingers in and out. She writhed and cried his name—the most beautiful sound to ever reach his ears.

  Witnessing her like this compelled him to do it again. And again and again. A thousand times would never be enough. For the rest of his life, he would watch this female blossom beneath his touch. To pleasure her, to love her like no other man ever had, ever would.

  Mine. Aye, she was his. He was more determined than ever to claim her heart.

  ***

  A few hours later, the door opened and a small voice chimed, “Mama?” Melita smiled while Thereus groaned at the intrusion. Such was life with small children, though. Privacy was more precious a commodity than gold.

  “I’m here, Lucian,” she whispered as she ensured the blankets covered her. Four small hooves pattered across the floor and her son crawled into her arms. “Why are you in here, Mama?” Though his innocent voice asked an innocent question, her cheeks burned.

  His father chuckled. “Because she’s my wife, son. Wives and husbands sleep together.”