Troll-y Yours BBW Erotic Curvy Fantasy Romance (The Centaurs)

by Fredricks, Sheri

  What was the big deal? It’s not like she hadn’t been inside before. Or—maybe he wanted this to be a decision she made on her own. When they were here before, it was to hide in a safe place and take care of Al’s injured leg.

  Either way, she would finally be alone with her male, and the world could go to hell.

  Her heart played a chromatic scale, as if a row of graduated bars were mounted inside her ribcage, ready to improvise a marimba.

  Happy and nervous, Ella opened the door.

  *~*~*

  I am Kempor Aleksander, Head Centaur Guard. There is nothing I fear and females love me.

  Inside his head, Alek repeated the positive affirmation that served him well over the past two hundred years. Only this time, his words rang hollow.

  There was something he feared, and he’d give it all up—the career path he’d carved since his colt youth, his incredible good looks—to be sure of the answer. None of it mattered, if the one thing he feared most came to pass.

  A life without Ella.

  Would she feel threatened and run away? Or, would she accept him, numerous faults and all, and stay? Aleksander held his breath. The strange sensation of anticipated dread stuttered the beat of his heart.

  Ella took three steps into the safe house and ground to a halt.

  His pulse picked up from where it nearly stopped, then hammered a fast-paced rhythm. Palms sweaty, neck itchy, he wanted to stretch-out the collar on his t-shirt.

  Oh wait, he’d already done that.

  Ella gave a small laugh. “What has Mr. Nubbs done to the place?”

  Yeah, a bit of renovation had taken place, though it wasn’t done by surly Nubbs.

  Heat hit his cheeks, and the reaction surprised him further. Juxtaposed against his reputation, it was pretty damned embarrassing. But then, Ella was worth it.

  Every day after work for two weeks, Alek had put in long hours here. The ratty old furniture was gone, replaced by leather chairs with curled armrests and fancy wooden legs. Across the new coffee table sat a matching couch with too many throw pillows. It looked as sleek as it was comfortable.

  Females liked that sort of thing. At least, that’s what Rhycious’s wife, Patience, told him.

  “Did you know he redecorated?” she asked softly.

  “Well, you know…Nubbs is thinking of letting this place go. And I was kind of wondering—”

  “Just look at these paintings! Not a dead Troll in sight.” Ella turned a circle on the new area carpet he’d laid just last night, her eyes soaking in everything from the books on the side table to the nesting boxes displayed above the mantle. Moving ahead, she crossed the room.

  “Actually…it wasn’t Nu—”

  “Pan’s flute! Look what he’s done to the kitchen.” Ella gawked at the changes.

  “Do you like it?” It was ridiculous, really. The way his heart beat in rapid staccato and him needing her approval.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s—it’s gorgeous.”

  Truth be told, the kitchen update had taken the longest. Aleksander installed new countertops and hung cabinets with facing that matched the uneven texture of the cave. He broke tradition by painting the walls and cupboards the color of sand, then choosing ‘summertime tan’ for the granite counter. Natural lighting from outside was brought in via tubes, creating a warm, cozy feel.

  “There hasn’t been time to unpack the new pots and pans. And the dishes are old, but nice. They’re passed down to the eldest son.” This and one other were the only items that remained of his family heirlooms since the Great War.

  Appearing to be mesmerized, Ella’s fingers drifted over the set of Henckel knives in their block.

  Overall, Aleksander was proud of how it all turned out in a short amount of time.

  Ella grasped the knob closest to her. The drawer slid open with an ease that only came from excellent craftsmanship. It closed without a sound. “Is the place for sale?”

  “Not any longer.”

  At her fallen expression, Alek forced himself to kill time, to not give away his surprise. He wanted to wrap-up their tour in the room he renovated with Ella in mind. Gods it was hard, he couldn’t wait to tell her.

  Still, he could use a little encouragement. “How do you like the changes so far?”

  “I love it! But I’ll reserve my final decision until I see just one more place.” The green in her eyes flashed sensuous smoke. Between one blink and then next, Ella swung her hips while she sashayed down the hall, her boots silent on the new wool carpet runner.

  In the aftermath of her ass-jiggling departure, Alek stood rooted to where he’d been left. He wore a damn-fool smile on his face and a growing hard-on in his pants. The air suddenly grew thin and his chest constricted as if squeezed by a fist. He dropped his jaw, and forced his lungs to expand and contract.

  Pushing his feet forward, he ignored the three other stallrooms he passed. Memory served a sumptuous feast of the love they shared in the room up ahead; he hoped there’d be more memory makers in the future.

  Their future.

  When he turned the corner into the stallroom, Ella was sitting on the corner of the floorbed, her hands resting between her knees. The sound of his boots brought her tear-filled eyes up to gaze at him. “Was it you?”

  Alek looked to where she’d been staring and saw the covered glass jar on the dresser. Inside, scraps of shredded toilet paper filled the container, her delicate handwriting showed through.

  At a loss of what to say, he scraped his short hair back with frustrated fingers. She hates it. Why did he save her notes from that day? And worse, he displayed what he thought she would treasure in a fucking keepsake jar?

  What in idiot. What a loser.

  “Aleksander, look at me.” A tear tracked down her cheek, and another followed in its path. Ella indicated the room around them. “Is this all—you?”

  He would do anything to keep her from crying. It gored his heart like a Minotaur horn to see tears on her cheeks. But answer her truthfully he would. Alek nodded.

  His beautiful Troll brought her hands up to her face and slowly covered her eyes. Shoulders shaking, snuffling noises behind her palms, she bent forward and…cried.

  I’m Kempor Aleksander. Head Centaur Guard. And I’m a worthless male without her.

  For two hundred years, he’d roamed the Boronda Forest as a much sought-after male. The pleasure he’d given and taken over those years never fulfilled him. It only left him empty, unhappy, and yearning for more.

  Love did strange things. It made him feel broken and splintered at the thought of life without Ella.

  It was time. It was now or never.

  “Ella—Kalos. I never meant to hurt you.” He moved to stand before her, then knelt on the soft green carpet. Gently, he rubbed her thigh through her skirt. “I want to show you the last family heirloom I have.”

  While Alek waited for her hands to lower, he reached to the dresser and plucked a few tissues from the box.

  Handing them over, she blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Her red-tipped nose matched her red-rimmed eyes, and still his Troll was a beauty. Ella lifted her gaze to meet his.

  Aleksander took a deep, fortifying breath. Inside his chest, his heart thumped a trotting beat, clamoring to burst forth and gallop away. The hand he raised to rub his goatee shook as if he needed a drink.

  Which he did.

  Damn.

  “Aleksander, it’s not what you think. I’m—”

  “Shh, let me talk first.” He took a deep breath. “Not much was saved after the war, but I managed a few things.”

  Inside the front pocket of his pants lay a leather drawstring pouch, which he grasped and pulled out. Untying the delicate silk string, he tugged the opening wide.

  Gods…give me strength. Prickles of sweat broke out on the back of his neck. “I saved the dishes because they belong to the eldest son—that’s me. But this also belongs to the eldest. It’s been in my family for generations.”


  Upending the satchel, the platinum ring tumbled out. Brilliant as the day it was cut, a blue sapphire center circled by sparkling emeralds, and all surrounded by an explosion of diamonds that continued in channels down the sides.

  Alek tossed the empty pouch on the bed and held the ring in the palm of his hand. It struck him as funny how small and insignificant the symbol of love looked there. Not so funny was the power one little ring held.

  In his head, he heard his harsh, ragged breath. Kneeled before her, he bowed his head, showing respect for his chosen female. He cleared his throat, and then cleared it again.

  “It may not be easy for us. After all, we’re from two different races.” Alek shook his head, meaning every spoken word. “But none of that matters, because I can’t imagine living my life without you. I can, however, dream of building a life with you...fathering our children…and loving you for all our mythic years.”

  In Ella’s eyes, he saw the confused wonder in the tightening of her arched brows and the way she bit her lower lip.

  Reaching to hold Ella’s hand, he raised his gaze and looked deeply into her soft green eyes. “I love you, and that’s something I’ve never said to a female before.” Alek wet his lips, nervous energy taking him for the ride of his life. “If you might—possibly—feel the same for me, would you…Ella, Troll of Boronda, consent to be my mated?”

  *~*~*

  No matter how fast she blinked her eyes, the view grew all wavy on Ella. She gripped the wadded tissue in a tight fist to her chest as if it were a talisman to ward off falling tears.

  He loves me—Me! The plain Troll from nowhere.

  Aleksander’s sexy brown eyes, the eyes she’d fallen in love with, frowned. “You’re neither plain nor from nowhere. You’re just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. And we’re sired from the same place, you and I. We come from Boronda.”

  Uh-oh. Guess she spoke aloud.

  He broke their connection and glanced away, searching the room, looking for answers to questions unknown. Without conscious thought, his battle scarred hand came up and rubbed his goatee, a habit she’d come to adore.

  Ella tossed the used tissue to the dresser and reached to cup his face. Hope lay bare in the windows to his soul, kicking a bonfire of warmth into her heart. His smooth cheek and course chin hair were a vivid contrast that felt good in her hands. “Aleksander. Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “These are tears of joy, my psychotic overlord.”

  Interminable seconds passed by, filling her ears with ghostly sounds of a tick-tocking clock. Tick, tick, tick…

  The beginning of a smile touched his lips. As if needing further confirmation, he asked, “You’ll be my wife? You’ll mate with me?”

  A loud beat drummed in her head, picking up its pace until Ella realized it wasn’t a drum at all but the hammering of her heart. With every pump of that organ, she floated closer to Elysium.

  Shit. More tears spilled over, which meant her freckles were blazing like the lighthouses along the coast. She managed a wobbly smile. “Let’s see if the ring fits, shall we?”

  Please, mythic gods, let the damn ring fit.

  Bacchus and Pan must have smiled in tandem.

  With shaky fingers, Al lifted her left hand and expelled a breath that blew warm on her cheeks.

  Gods, she loved this man. As if the ring were made especially for her, Ella the Troll, the stunning family heirloom slid into place. She stared at the exquisite stones on her third finger. It felt so right. As if she’d been wearing it for years. Lifting her eyes, she met Alek’s own.

  He was holding his breath, waiting for something.

  Is there a Centaur ritual for engagement I’m not aware of? Confused, she tipped the point of her ear toward her shoulder. If she screwed this up, was it over for her and Al?

  Still holding her hand in his large palms, his thumb caressed the new ring in gentle pushes from left to right. Back and forth, he slowly turned it on her finger…waiting.

  Unable to take much more, afraid her life would forever remain one big regret, Ella blurted out. “What do I do? Is there a special response I should give?”

  Twin dimples cut diagonal grooves in his cheeks and bracketed his rakish smile, but didn’t erase the worry in his eyes. “It’s absurd, really. But humor me here. I really need to hear you say the words, Ella. To have them spoken aloud.”

  Kempor Aleksander…lacked confidence? Something in this world frightened him and that something was—her?

  Wow. Talk about a life-changing moment.

  Ella focused on the diamond swirls of the ring. The emeralds sat next to sapphires and were so lovely. A sign of nature, eternally flowering—the kind of thing that would lift her spirits every time her eyes fell on it.

  “Yes. I will mate with you, Al Hedson.”

  At her use of Al, Aleksander gave her his fierce look of mock anger.

  She giggled, and then she became all seriousness, because after all, taking a uniquely handsome Centaur for a husband was serious business.

  “Yes. You’re everything I ever dreamed of in a male. I think I loved you from the moment you bumped into me. Yes. I will marry you, Kempor Aleksander. I will be proud to be your mated. To carry your children. To be your wife.”

  And Ella prayed she could be everything and all to him.

  Thirty-Five

  Alek stood in a meadow of flowers and shifted his weight around on four stamping hooves while his tail swung idly at gnats. He’d opted for non-military attire and dressed carefully in a formal white button-down and close-fit black coat. The bow-tie he borrowed from Nubbs.

  For their ceremony, Ella had chosen a warm, sunny spot near the top of Boronda Falls, banked by sparkling clear water on one side. On the other side, thanks to Serenity, Wood Nymphs interlocked their tree branches to form a protective wall. Around the perimeter, friends and family had set out a feast.

  In only a few days, everything had been arranged. Rhycious and Nubbs stood next to him and grinned like idiots. Across from them, Hippy and Serenity held sprays of late blooming flowers. Amid the guests, Eli stood with Bomani and Roxy on one side. On the other, Patience and Queen Savella whispered back and forth. Near the banquet tables, Ella’s parents busied themselves by sampling the variety of food, and the rest of the guests milled about.

  While Alek surveyed the sweet-scented grassland, he turned an eye to the tall, stately trees and distant snowcapped mountains. So many times, he’d wanted what others had, when in reality he just needed to open his eyes and enjoy the view around him.

  On a purple bloom near his hoof, Aleksander became mesmerized by a bumblebee. In no way should the creature be able to fly, yet the small wings lifted its giant body into the air…defying science and gravity every time, shoving a middle finger in everyone’s face.

  He loved Boronda and couldn’t imagine—

  The sound of females gasping, followed by a cumulative murmur, caused him to snap his head up.

  Sweet mythic gods…

  If he didn’t know terra firma was planted firmly under his hooves, he would have thought he’d died and gone to Elysium. But his tail swished and his heart pounded, and he remained perpendicular to the ground.

  Through the parted branches of a sky-high weeping willow, Ella emerged in breathtaking beauty that short-circuited his brain.

  Wrapped in a creamy strapless gown, hugging from her breasts to her hips, the sequence and freshwater pearls sparkled brighter than the slow moving river. Yards of silk skirting floated from her body to trail behind in waves. Designed by Rhy’s wife, Patience, it suited her perfectly. Piled atop her head, a messy cascade of intricate red curls remained in place by a flowered wreath and long dawdling ribbons.

  Ella met his eyes and then fussed at her waist, tugging the material smooth. She glanced toward her parents, but their backs were turned as they perused the various dishes.

  Aleksander held a hand out and smiled his reassurance.

  In the stre
am eddy, Water Nymphs began to sing. They availed their melodic voices in traditional mythological style, which started with a hypnotic, wordless melody.

  Gods, no wonder humans had gone willingly to their deaths. Even Odysseus in Homer’s epic poem nearly met his fate. Their voices cast over the crowd, haunting and lovely.

  Ella shyly came forth from the shade of the willow to cross a field vibrant with color. A few times, she teetered in her shoes while managing the uneven terrain, but determination kept her moving steadily forward, minus a few glances left and right.

  Sniffles from the sidelines started and more joined in with her every step. Even the hardcore Hippolyte ran a finger under her eye.

  With every footfall his little Troll took, Aleksander’s chest swelled and continued to fill until he thought he’d burst his shirt buttons. Euphoria had nothing on him.

  Then finally, Ella stood at his side.

  In front of them, stood Templar Khristos in true form, the Centaur priest’s black hide contrasted with the white robes he wore for the mating ceremony.

  Serenity darted forward to bring order to Ella’s long, heavy skirt.

  “I love you,” Alek mouthed, then followed up with a wink.

  “I love you more,” she mouthed back.

  Blinking her eyes rapidly, she gifted him with a nervous smile. Then…Pan’s flute—it grew, spreading from corner to corner, until she beamed so brightly that his soul reached out and touched hers.

  Deep and gravely, the priest’s voice broke the relative silence of the hilltop meadow. “Courage in a true Centaur is measured in degrees.”

  The golden noose of matrimony was slid over Aleksander’s bowed head. From around his neck, the twists of soft cotton rope looked only slightly frayed from a century of use.

  Khristos caught his eye and slowly nodded. “Fate, whether destined or preempt, requires faith.”

  The Templar took up a length of rope and gently hung a slack loop around Ella’s neck, taking care to avoid her woven crown of flowers.

  With his greater height, she had no need to dip to accommodate him.