Earth Borne (13 page)

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.”

Chapter 13

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.”

“Can I sleep with you too?”

“No, my darling, I’m afraid not.” Melita laughed.

Lucian stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “It’s not even nighttime yet.”

Thereus grunted as he got out of the bed, changed to centaur form, and treaded to the drapes. He yanked one back. “Bloody he—” His focus flashed to Lucian, then Melita before he cleared his throat. “Uh, I mean, I never sleep this long, or during the day, for that matter.” He cast a heated stare in her direction. Was he recalling what caused him to become so exhausted?

A small voice inside her panicked, so she embraced her son for a minute longer, using him as a shield against his father’s powerful lust. What had she done? Not only had they pleasured each other, she’d revealed far too much about herself. Her past.

Instead of sating him, she’d made him hungrier. From how his gaze devoured her, he’d demand more. More of her body and her secrets.

She was too weak to push him away. He only had to peer at her and she would give him the world. Her world.

She must make a decision. Telling him the truth terrified her. Although, if he loved her… Yes, if she earned his love, he might protect her. Forgive her.

It wouldn’t be easy. Taming a centaur as wild as Thereus was a daunting task. She’d have to use every nymph weapon at her disposal. Everything she’d learned about centaurs. She must appeal to every side of him—Lucian to draw out his familial desires, the village to encourage his sense of duty, and her body—because centaurs were nothing if not creatures of carnality.

Once, she’d given everything to him and he’d discarded her immediately afterward. If she had any hope of survival, she’d need him to thirst for her so badly once would never be enough. He’d have to claim her every day for the rest of his life just to slake his appetite.

He flashed her a grin. “Why don’t I have the cook prepare us a nice meal?”

She smiled back at him. “Sounds lovely.” After he strode off, she rang for a maid to fetch her clothes.

Alkippe delivered them, her eyes sparkling as she spotted Melita nude in her husband’s bed. “Well, milady?” Her brow cocked mischievously.

She blushed under the centauress’s scrutiny. “You may put that eyebrow back where it belongs, Alkippe. What you are thinking happened, did not.”

“Oh? You can’t fool my nose, Melita. Something happened. His scent is all over you.” Alkippe smiled smugly. Damn centaur noses. Melita couldn’t deny it. She required her friend’s help now as much as ever.

“Yes, something did happen. You won me to your cause.” Mostly. Well, everything except the bonding. Such nonsense.

Alkippe clapped her hands in delight. “Wonderful, child, oh yes, you deserve this. Thereus, too. You’ll make each other so happy, I know it.”

She hopped out of the bed and into the dress Alkippe presented. “Stop celebrating. I’m going along with your plan. However, it doesn’t mean I can live this lie forever.” Her attention flicked to her son, who played with his toy figurines behind the drapes on the window seat. The focused chatter between his toys meant he paid no heed to their conversation.

Addressing her friend in hushed tones, she added, “I must tell him the truth eventually.” She held up her hand against the storm of objections on Alkippe’s tongue. “No, my dear friend. I will do as you say and attempt to earn his affection, in hopes that when I confess, he’ll show mercy. You know centaur law as well as I. This,” she swept her hand across her body in Kalliste’s clothes, “is treason. It will go better for me if I am honest. Besides, someday Lucian deserves the truth. I owe Kalliste that much, if not more.”

The truth she hadn’t told Thereus blistered inside her. Kalliste had stormed into the room when Philaeus’s soldiers forced her hand to pleasure them. She’d stopped them short of rape and ensured they never touched her again. Kalliste had insisted Melita accompany her to Westgard, and in doing so, had saved her from a torturous fate beneath Philaeus’s cruel hand.