Eros Island

by Lucinda Betts, Dawn Thompson

  And she did, the sound of her hooves beating away into the distance.

  I looked around, seeking any clue as to my whereabouts. I had no intention on going back into the Sacred Glade, meeting up with hoof-less centaurs. I would go home to my palace. And I would organize my Mother Rite tourney.

  As I eyed the surrounding trees, a thought occurred to me. I could rid myself of both Lycurgus and Chiron in one move: I’d forbid Lycurgus a place in the tourney. That way, he’d not take my lands. And if Lycurgus was Earth Shaker’s tool—something I highly doubted—he’d be foiled. The final bonus was that I’d not have to permit any centaur in the Mother Rite—Chiron would have no one to battle if I disallowed Lycurgus.

  Feeling more in control than I had since I’d laid eyes on Chiron, I looked around in earnest for any sign of a cardinal direction. The sun was too high for shadow. I couldn’t hear the gentle murmur of the Aegean Sea.

  Instead I spied that eerily familiar wall of gray fog, complete with beckoning fingers.

  My maidenhead responded instantly, surging with hot desire. The memory of their caress over my nipples, between my thighs, made me long. Long for what, I wasn’t sure. And I wasn’t certain I wanted to know, either.

  I turned on my heels, grateful for the clue. I knew now where my palace lay—directly opposite of the temptation of the cursed fingers.

  Except now the wall of fingers lay directly in front of me.

  What? Had I turned too much?

  I spun in alarm, but I found my fears confirmed. The wall of fog completely surrounded me, and it was closing in.

  Akantha, the fingers called, Please come.

  But I would not, not willingly. I needed to go home and stop this madness before it went any further.

  Then the drumbeat I’d come to recognize filled the air—hoofbeats.

  And I knew—I couldn’t simplify my life just yet.

  “Akantha!” I heard. His rich voice carried easily through the verdant trees. I contemplated running or remaining silent.

  But there was no denying him. He’d find me anyway. “Here.”

  As he grew close, the fog evaporated and an intense rainbow—colors more vibrant than even the frescoes in my chamber—appeared. The rainbow was no taller than a man.

  “Thank the Mother, we’ve not missed the ribbongate,” Chiron said, panting from exertion and taking my hand in his callused one. He pulled me toward the rainbow, which strangely resembled a gate.

  “Stop!” I said.

  He did, but he kept hold of me. The warmth of his hand over mine, his strength—I liked it if I were honest with myself.

  But that wasn’t the point.

  “I’ve arrived at a decision regarding the Mother Rite,” I told him.

  He gave me a questioning look. And I wanted to run my fingers over his face, memorize each line until I’d etched each curve of his face in my mind.

  “The leopard,” I said at a strange loss for words. “And Pholus. Lycurgus has poor manners.”

  He took a deep breath, eyeing the rainbow, which might have been shrinking. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not going to permit him to fight. I’ll uninvite him to the Mother Rite.”

  “Very well.” He nodded and started to step toward the shimmering gate, pulling me with him. The opening was definitely smaller than it had been a moment ago.

  I dug my heels into the ground. “That means you don’t have to take part in the combat,” I clarified. “We’re free. Go your own way.” I pulled my hand from his with a jerk and stepped away.

  “Please, Princess Akantha. Come with me.”

  There was something irresistible in his expression, something in the set of his stormy eyes. Concern and laughter gave him a rugged look that tugged at my heart. I couldn’t refuse him.

  “Are you certain?” I asked.

  “More certain than I’ve ever been.”

  I laughed then, because he struck me as a very certain man. Then I bolted toward the rainbow gate and threw myself through with a laugh.

  “Our visit here will lend the Mother Goddess strength,” he said. Summer grass sprang green and tender to our knees, dampening our legs with early morning dew. “She may actually take on a corporeal form, if we burn brightly enough.”

  His dark bronze hair, hanging in his wide-set eyes, caught a stray sunbeam and glowed. “What do you mean, ‘burn brightly enough’?” I asked.

  His expression seemed hungry, and his muscles were so freshly used they rippled across his chest and abdomen when he walked. I’d never in my life seen a man as gorgeous as he.

  And when his eyes met mine, I knew exactly what he meant. His words lit a fire deep inside me, and I knew—with absolute certainty—that I’d burn brightly for him.

  “Look,” he said, pointing to the myrtle trees. “She comes.”

  In the branches, something fluttered, matching the crazy trembling in my stomach. Dozens of small white owls filled the trees and sang. Like the fabled priestess to the pharaohs, they sang.

  They sang the song of my heart.

  His eyes turned to mine, heavy with purpose. Slowly, deliberately, his hands circled my waist and he pulled me toward him.

  In his arms, time stopped. Peril and strife fell to the wayside. In his embrace, just Chiron and I existed.

  My eyelids heavy with languor, I slid my arms around his neck. My breasts crushed against his chest, and my thighs pressed against his.

  The speckled silver of his eyes, his intent gaze stirred my heart, and the clear purpose of his expression heated my maidenhead. As his opened palm slid from the small of my back to my bum, that burning heat inside of me did not abate.

  I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the delicious scent of him. He smelled like barley and pine intermingled with his own musk. Closing my eyes, I let my fingers drink in his beauty, the play of his muscles under my hand, the breathtaking softness of his human skin. I let my hand, trembling now with desire—and fear—travel past his human skin. He groaned with pleasure as my fingers trailed to his equine coat, which was softer than I’d ever let myself imagine.

  He grabbed my hips and pulled me tightly against him. Even as my maidenhead throbbed in pleasure, pressing against the place where human flesh met equine, I felt him change.

  The world tilted strangely in my hands, and then the man standing before me was all human; his extremely human cock pulsed, begging for attention as it pressed against me.

  “Chiron,” I asked. “Are you real?”

  “I’m real,” he said, gathering me into his arms. Heat from his equine body warmed me against the morning’s chill. For the first time since I’d known him, I embraced even that animal part of him. “And now I’ve let you know the secret of our people.”

  “Secret?”

  “With the Mother’s grace, we can alternate between human and centaur form.”

  “Then last night? You were truly—” I tried to organize my thoughts. “You were human! And you were there!”

  “Thank the Mother, I was there,” he said with a wicked glint in his eye. “And I anticipate being exactly there again. Come here, Akantha.”

  “How good are you with those human legs, centaur?” I unhooked Lycurgus’s robe. I didn’t want anything that had touched him touching me.

  Chiron looked down at his legs with a questioning expression, and I took his meaning. His human legs were hewn with muscle. Powerful calves curved into massive thighs so solid they could’ve been carved of marble.

  “True, they look perfectly functional,” I admitted.

  “Merely functional?”

  “Vain creature,” I teased. “Let’s see how they work.” With a wild laugh, I sprinted through the tall grass, pounding the earth. “Catch me!”

  He wasn’t expecting me to run, but he caught me, and I didn’t fight him. I squirmed against him, letting my bum run the length of his cock. I struggled while he spun me toward him, pressing my breasts against the hard muscles of his chest.

&n
bsp; But I didn’t fight him. I wanted him too much.

  “And is this perfectly functional?” I asked, curving my hand around his cock. Like his legs, it looked more than ready to perform.

  “Do you wish to find out?”

  Laughing at his blatant desire, I took his robe—he’d replaced his red with a roughspun brown—unclasping the bronze hook at his throat, and shook it out. I lay it in the thick grass that surrounded us; it was large enough for both of us.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked.

  “Come find out.”

  But Chiron didn’t rush, despite my desire—or maybe because of it. With deliberation, he sat next to me, not touching me with his hands, but letting the warmth of his bare shoulder heat mine. His thigh, too, rested against mine, taunting and promising, both.

  The early morning sun warmed me, but his naked presence was much hotter. The air between us almost crackled, tight with possibility. It could have been the magic of the solstice, but I supposed it was something more rare than that.

  “I should tease you,” Chiron said, touching me finally. His index finger curled a path from my shoulder blade to my inner elbow, making me shiver with delight and anticipation. “I should make you laugh until these heavy emotions go back into our hearts where they belong.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “I find,” he said, wrapping his finger around a tendril of hair, “I cannot.” He tugged it gently, insistently.

  “Why not?” Taking his hand in mine, I looked at him from under my lashes, almost afraid of what I’d see.

  “Because of your neck.”

  I laughed at the absurd comment. “What about it?”

  “I find its beauty has rendered me incapable of speech.”

  “Your words were coherent.” I tilted my chin back, inviting him to do something other than talk. “I think you exaggerate.”

  “Let me show you,” he said. His hot lips found that tender spot just below my ear. First he nibbled, then he sucked. My breasts, thrust up and out by my clothing, ached for him, and the wetness between my thighs begged for his touch.

  But he didn’t stop. His lips and teeth found the back of my ear, and deliciously all of the hairs on my neck prickled.

  I rolled my head to the side, inviting more kisses, and as his lips neared my breasts, I groaned.

  “That’s what I mean,” he said. Desire blurred his words, thickened his voice. “How can I jest when you sit like that, tempting me?”

  “If you kiss me here again,” I said, running my finger just behind my ear. “You might find inspiration.”

  “It isn’t your neck I want to kiss now.”

  “No?” I traced my finger along the seam of my bustier. “Would you prefer these?” I slowly wrapped my fingers around my breasts and offered them to him, the Mother’s gift.

  But Chiron’s words escaped him for deliciously long moments as we learned the simple pleasure of his hands on my breasts, of his fingertips on my pearled nipples. I arched my back, pressing my tight nipples into his palms.

  The feel of his skin on mine felt so pure and good. I knew it gave strength to the Mother. Indeed, the earth beneath us seemed to pulse with power.

  His tongue danced over mine, caressing and asking. His teeth tugged my lip as his thumbs caressed my nipples. Heat seared our kiss, pushing nervous fear to the far background. I ran my hand through his hair, savoring its silky weight. And I wrapped my fingers in it, pulling his face closer yet.

  He was mine.

  The friction of his thumbs over my nipples brought a gasp from me, but also it brought a hunger for something more. As if he knew, he dipped his head and flicked a searing tongue over my nipple.

  By the Mother, I’d never imagined this gift.

  Then he lifted both breasts and buried his face, licking and teasing and biting. Desire swamped me, flowed over me like a storm surge. I twisted so that he didn’t ignore my other breast, enjoying the press of his cock against my maidenhead.

  “Don’t stop,” I said. “Please.”

  And he knew.

  He straddled me. I stretched my hands high above me.

  I was his.

  But then he found control from someplace. He sat back, softly stroking my thighs, the curve of my waist. He slowed our mad passion, forcing us to savor it.

  With a laugh of delight, I tried to sit, to pull his face back toward mine, but he wouldn’t let me. Gently pushing me back, he ran his palms over the flat of my stomach. His hands memorized every detail of my waist and hips, the softness just under my belly button.

  His hot fingers caressed the curves of my thighs and hips, teasing. His thumbs reached for the apex but then pulled back just as I believed relief was upon me.

  “Chiron,” I moaned, pushing myself toward him. “Please.”

  Then he was over me, his chest crushing my breasts, his thighs asking mine to open. His scent surrounded me, and the heat of his muscled body pressed mine. I sighed and parted my thighs. I wanted this.

  His fingers slid and slipped, lighting a fire so hot I quivered on the edge of something unnamable.

  With the lightest touch, his tongue teased mine. Then his lips caressed my face, telling me with his every movement that he would not hurt me, that he cherished me.

  But I almost couldn’t feel his gentle touch. The flame lit by his fingers between my thighs burned too intensely. As he stroked me, I lost any control left to me. His fingers danced and slid around that sensitive nub, and my hips moved in a rhythm dictated by desire, not sense. Enslaved by the delicious ravishment that overwhelmed my senses, I yielded completely.

  But he wasn’t done with me yet; he wasn’t ready for the final stroke.

  He leaned down and buried his face between my legs, his finger tracing lazy circles around that nub.

  Hi tongue ran the length of me as his fingers worked their magic. But when he sucked I thought the universe might explode. “Don’t,” I said. “I’m so—”

  But his hands reached up to my breasts. His rough fingers caught my nipples and rolled them into hard, tingling tips. He sucked again, sudden and insistent, and it brought me right to the edge. I thrust toward him, begging with my body. I couldn’t hold back. He sucked again—and lightning lit behind my eyes, zapping me from toes to fingers.

  My core throbbed and pulsed, reaching for something that wasn’t there, and I gasped at the intensity, amazed by my body.

  “I never knew,” I said breathlessly. “That it’d feel so…”

  Chiron gave me that rakish grin. “I’m not finished with you yet, Princess.”

  More than the ground pulsed around us. Now the very air we breathed seem to vibrate with power from the spiritworld.

  “No waiting,” I said. His hard, swollen cock pressed against me, but I didn’t flinch. “I’m ready for you, for this.”

  He slid into me, slowly at first. But when he came upon that membrane, he pushed past in a quick movement. I gasped.

  Stilling himself, he covered my forehead with little kisses. “I’ve not hurt you?”

  “No,” I said, and it was true. I slid him just slightly deeper with the most tentative glide of my hips. It caused no pain.

  Now ravenous for him, I wrapped my legs tightly around his hips and pulled until he sank fully into me, spreading me, filling me deliciously full.

  Then I took the lead, inviting him to thrust faster, and harder. I met him there. The magnitude of our desire for each other overwhelmed me. Under him, I could hardly bear the pleasure of his penetration.

  I watched his jaw flex in an effort to control himself, but I didn’t want control. I wanted wild abandon, his and mine. His shaft sank delectably into me, and I knew I stood on the brink.

  “Oh Mother,” Chiron groaned.

  I thrust myself up and met him in one more gratifying thrust.

  “Chiron!” I cried as the orgasm flashed through me in a luscious explosion.

  And when he shuddered, his whole body stiffening, I surrendered. Within
seconds, I came with him. Deep inside me, the pulsing of his cock and the spilling of his seed satisfied the hunger I’d felt since I’d first kissed him.

  This man was a gift from the Mother Goddess herself.

  But with my body still shuddering in pleasure, a cold finger of dread curled around my heart. I knew when I opened my eyes I’d see the immortal Mother Goddess herself.

  But I was wrong.

  6

  “A h, how quaint,” Lycurgus said, looming above us. “A charming little love nest.” He looked at me, his eyes raking my naked breasts, my exposed thighs—the smear of blood. I felt excruciatingly aware of my swollen lips and my disheveled hair. “And what a pretty little bird you have in it, too.”

  “Your problem,” Chiron said, deliberately wrapping his robe around me, “stems from the fact that you cannot distinguish a woman from a bird.”

  I watched Lycurgus scowl. “You defy humanity with your hooves,” the dark-haired man spat.

  I thought this ironic since Chiron was in human form. My champion stood, rested his hands easily on his lean hips, and looked at his foe. “Perhaps envy lies at the heart of your disgruntlement,” he suggested. “Though not of hooves.”

  “To what exactly do you refer, unnatural creature?” Lycurgus said.

  Chiron shifted into centaur form as we watched. His perfect thighs and calves took on their animal shapes, powerful haunches, lean stifles, wicked hooves. And for the first time since I’d craved Chiron’s touch, his equine parts did not unnerve me. Indeed, the deep muscles rippling across his back and flank made me long to caress him.

  “You disgust me,” Lycurgus said, his hooded eyes heavy with distaste.

  Chiron looked toward Lycurgus’s groin. “I’m told that men who aren’t particularly well endowed are more inclined to this sort of envy. Do you think that’s so?”

  With his sword out quicker than I could blink, a feral noise escaped Lycurgus as he lunged toward Chiron. But I knew—not a drop of blood was to be spilled in the Sacred Glade. I could not allow combat.

  I stepped between the two men.

  “If you continue, Lycurgus,” I said, “I’ll deny your place in the Mother Rite.”