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

by Fredricks, Sheri

  “Trust stands with honor and both shall endeavor to provide for the other’s safekeeping.”

  Another golden loop was formed and draped around Ella’s neck to stack atop the first.

  “To promise the remainder of your days to your desired one…is love.” The dark priest held the remaining tail of rope and paused for piety’s sake, a showman to the bitter end.

  Aleksander slid a glance to Ella and found her smiling back. This time, she winked at him.

  Between their necks hung a swag of golden rope that connected them together.

  Templar Khristos indicated the excess segment with his hand and followed the marital line to Ella. “Troll Ella of the Boronda Forest lineage, servant of Bacchus and Pan. Are you here of your own free will?”

  In a clear voice, she answered, “I am.”

  Alek fought to not turn and grin his happiness in her direction. Stoic self-control was expected of him, but the corner of his lip quirked up anyway.

  In the Centaur custom, the mating question would not be posed to him. In the ancient way of a male dominated society, there wasn’t a need. Simply put, if he didn’t want her, he wouldn’t have asked to be mated.

  Khristos lifted a single black brow, his expression carved from stone.

  Since this glacial trait was the grumpy priest’s normal visage, Alek blew him off and kept his eyes focused forward.

  The ceremony continued as Khristos removed one corded loop from around Ella’s neck and held it out for her to accept. “This coil represents the dedication you have for Kempor Aleksander of Aegean. It denotes the loyalty he holds and the pursuit of his status of Head Centaur Guard of Her Majesty, Queen Savella.”

  Rather than roll his eyes, Aleksander swished his tail when Khristos spread his arms wide in theatrical drama. The motion lifted the white robe sleeves and revealed his jeweled dagger of office.

  “From this moment on and forever, until the mythic gods call from the green valleys of Elysium, it shall be known that you are mated.”

  Beside him, Ella sniffled.

  Inside of him, his heart pounded.

  “Aleksander of Aegean, you now belong to Ella of the Troll genus for all eternity. May the gods bless your union.”

  Khristos lifted the last marital loop from Ella’s shoulders. He handed it to her, along with the excess in his hand, leaving Alek’s neck lassoed.

  From the corner of his eye, Alek could see Ella’s baffled expression of what to do next. He whispered from the side of his mouth. “Tug the rope.”

  “Oh!” Ella’s hands remained full of soft golden rope as she turned to face him.

  Templar Khristos rolled his eyes.

  Just then, she must have stepped on the long hem of her dragging skirt, because she let out a squeak and flailed her arms, the wobbly shoes her culprit.

  Alek shot out a steadying hand.

  Before he could do more than lift his arm, Ella pulled on the tether to right her balance…the slipknot shot up—and the marital bond nearly strangled the crap out of him.

  At least she’d achieved her footing. Nice to know his scruff was good for something.

  Eighteen hands high at the withers, the enormous dark priest, Khristos’ topped Alek by a good four inches in height. Deep chuckles resonated from his wide chest. “Get used to it, Kempor Aleksander,” he choked out between guffaws. “Because it’s only the beginning!” His black and grey beard shook as his chortle gathered strength, and ended in a booming laugh.

  His laughter was infectious while the crowd guffawed, snorted and chuckled, as a growing laughter echoed along the forest.

  *~*~*

  Mortified didn’t begin to cover Ella’s embarrassment. People were laughing—at her. Then, she thought of each gruesome freckle, how the spots would stand out like a fluorescent display and draw more attention to her clumsy, oversized, pure hideous Troll self.

  Glancing to her right, she saw her parents shake their heads, their expressions of disgust obvious in the downward pull of their mouths. Her mother’s low-heeled brown shoes flattening the late season grass, back held with starch, she turned away and stalked to the food tables. Her father lumbered behind, fingers linked behind his back.

  Aleksander—the last person she wanted to look at, would he be as disgusted as her parents, or embarrassed he mated a Troll? Trembling, she dropped her mortified gaze to stare at the rope.

  Inside the weave of the golden rope in her hands, twists of black and orange stands shot through with the faintest contrast. The colors enhanced the depth, deepened the clarity of the gold, and brought the natural beauty of the fibers to light.

  “Sweet-thing, look at me.”

  How could she? It would kill her to see the remorse in his eyes.

  Fingers gently cupped her chin and lifted. Large black hooves with thick fetlocks stood planted near her wobbly white shoes.

  I should never have worn heels. Up, up, and up her gaze traveled over the long dark forelegs of her husband. She skimmed his muscular equine chest, gleaming reddish in the bright sunlight. Her eyes floated upward, over his raven-black jacket cut to masculine perfection, and she noted the way it hugged his wide shoulders and stressed the seams.

  Above his groomed goatee, sensual lips stretched in a cock-eyed smile, pulled back to one side, showing even white teeth beneath.

  Raising her eyes the final measure to meet his gaze, Ella steeled herself for his ridicule.

  “I love you so much.” Al tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You have no idea how beautiful you are to me. How everything about you drives me wild.”

  His tender words of love relieved the weight of disapproval from her shoulders. Those handsome eyes of his held a moistness that matched her own.

  Rhycious groaned louder than necessary. “Are you ever going to kiss the bride, meathead?”

  While those assembled gave a rousing cheer and broke into applause, Ella pulled the loop from around Al’s neck and handed the rope to Templar Khristos.

  Her sexy Centaur closed the space between them and swept her off her big, flat feet, gathering the yards and yards of white dress right up into his arms with her.

  Then, in front of Queen Savella, Eli, Kempor Hippolyte, and all their mythological friends, Aleksander kissed her good and hard.

  Ella wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, uncaring what anyone thought. Safe in his arms, the self-consciousness that always plagued her shed away. Lifted high against his chest, her mate carried her away from the raucous catcalls and whistles. He broke into a rocking horse gallop that took them through an open passage, created by the Wood Nymphs.

  Breathless, she giggled. “What about our guests and all the food?”

  The feast laid out on the banquet tables disappeared from view behind interlocking branches, not that she felt in the least bit hungry. How could she, with the warm wind in her face and unlimited happiness in her heart?

  “They can entertain themselves and eat whatever your parents passed up.”

  They stopped once so Al could remove his jacket and loosen his tie…which lead to the divestiture of his shirt as well. Since her dress encumbered their progression, Al thought it best she remove that as well.

  When the white corset, thong, and garters revealed themselves, his molten eyes glazed with heat. Undeterred fingers plucked the hooks down the front of the tight bodice and spilled her breasts to his waiting lips. His big palms gathered their weight and plumped them, allowing his tongue to lick each peak…his lips to suck each nipple.

  The suction drew her deeply into his warm mouth and ignited her fire below. “Aleksander—I want you.”

  In answer, he slid a hand down her along ribs, past the indention of her waist, over the jut of her hips, and glided his fingers with aching slowness to where she wanted—no, needed—them most. At her sensitive center, he cupped his palm over the scrap of ivory lace, moving the exacted pressure in circles that grew faster in gradual change.


  Hungry for his mouth, she fastened her lips to his; skimming her tongue past his teeth to satisfy a taste for her Centaur. She gripped his arms for balance, feeling the bands of muscles beneath.

  Deep in his throat, he growled his approval and slipped his naughty fingers past the edge of the lace. One, two, three strokes against her tender skin and her legs parted, hungry for his expert touch. The only male she ever wanted to touch her again…and again.

  Aleksander, the Centaur who loved her.

  Ella tossed her head back when the tightening began. She forced herself to gaze at him between lowered lids, watching the fierce look of male domination build upon his face. His thick fingers rubbed and thrust. They drew her up and out of her body, pushed her closer to the edge where abandon, shooting stars, and—yes, even the god Pan was found.

  “You’re so fucking sexy.” Aleksander licked his parted lips as he watched her juices flow over his hand. “Come for me, Kalos.”

  “Oh gods, I’m nearly there!” Ella bent her knees to drive his fingers deeper inside.

  Then, Al kissed her. He slipped his tongue between her lips and kissed until she felt lightheaded and buzzed. After that he knelt on one foreleg and stretched his other forward.

  Where she wanted him the most, is where he planted his mouth next.

  Strong lips worked her clit and the flat of his tongue lapped her up. The sensations he created made her feel out of this world. And Al enjoyed himself, too, judging by his hums of approval. Strong hands held her, muscular shoulders kept her legs spread wide in a plié.

  Much like a budding flower, Ella opened herself up to him. She delved her fingers into his hair and held his head to her throbbing center.

  Moving in tandem with his fingers, a mind annihilating suction was created with his lips.

  Deep inside, her core grew tighter. Pressure built and demanded release.

  In moments, she blew apart. Head back, mouth open, Ella cried out with her orgasm. Great shudders wracked her body. Her inner muscles convulsed in every erotic way possible. If it weren’t for Aleksander’s strong arm around her waist, she would have melted to a puddle on the ground.

  Gentle fingers stroked her intimately, bringing her down from the mind-numbing climax. His soft lips latched onto her sensitive nipple and sucked with lazy pulls as though he’d been the one who’d had the release.

  When she stopped gulping air and stood steady on her own, she gazed at the sexy centaur.

  Alek brought his hand away from her delicate throbbing bud and flashed his famous grin. The one that stole her breath and left feminine sighs throughout the kingdom.

  Heat from his searing brown eyes coaxed her dampened fire to blaze once more. “I want you again,” she trailed her fingers over his chest.

  Would this be her mantra for the next century?

  Ella sure hoped so.

  He flicked a glance at his wristwatch. “Shit. Thirty minutes until I shift. Can you wait that long, my beautiful bride?”

  For him, she would wait a century.

  “Are you going to just stand there, my hybrid honey? Or did you have a destination in mind?” Could that be her voice sounding so husky and sexy?

  “If we’re going to make it in time, you’d better get on.”

  “Ride you?”

  “Can you think of a faster way?”

  No, she couldn’t.

  The gold chain lay against his tanned skin, shimmering in bright flashes. Sparks of iridescent pink flared from his aura and depicted sexual desire as prominent on his mind.

  Ella felt a bit like Lady Godiva with only the garters and hose as clothing. She should’ve at least put on the corset.

  Al smiled and helped her to climb onto his strong equine back, settling her in, to sit sidesaddle-style with her arms wrapped about his waist. Gathering their strewn clothes into one messy bundle, he chuckled and called out, “Hang on!”

  Thirty-Six

  Their home.

  Outside the front door, Ella slid off his back like she’d ridden all her life. Her perky tits bounced when her feet hit the ground. Desire lit her almond-shaped eyes and she stared up at him, looking as if she were more than ready for what lie ahead.

  His fingers searched out the cracked spot along the boulder, and he pressed the hidden knob. After a click, the door swung open—and an image of her parted thighs came to mind.

  Despite Ella’s poor self-image, she weighed no more than his armor as he lifted her into his arms and carried her inside.

  She caught the handle and closed the door behind them.

  Her sexy mouth lay inches away and he couldn’t resist. He slipped his tongue between her lips and plunged past her teeth. Sweet as honey, Alek made sure he continued to taste until he reached their bedroom.

  Inside, he set her down on the bed and smiled at the sexual need shining from her eyes. Yeah, he’d give her what she wanted—but not just yet. He had something else to give her first, and stepped back from the bed.

  “Where are you going?” A look of surprise widened her eyes.

  “Believe me, I’m not going anywhere.” At the base of his spine, the familiar tingle grew. He clopped his hooves to the dresser, the one they now shared, and picked up the package that sat on top. When he came back to the bed, he held out his wedding present to her.

  Ella pushed her beautiful mane of flaming hair from her face, the flowered coronet long gone, her fancy hairstyle ruined by their canter through the woods.

  Her hands shook as she took the long, thin box from him. “What is this, Al?” She carefully cracked the lid and promptly gasped.

  Satisfaction flooded him. Alek reached out and lifted the elegant sword from its black velvet nest.

  Her mouth formed a little O when she saw the crest engraved into the handle.

  An exact replica of his armband, the twin scythes of Queen Savella. Only Ella’s emblem was surrounded by a dozen diamonds, brilliant enough to be seen from the heavens above.

  There’d be no mistake when other males saw her; they’d know she belonged to him. If anyone needed a personal refresher course on the matter, he’d be only too glad to give them one. His tail swished in anticipation.

  “I never want you to be afraid and unable to defend yourself again. When I saw you in the hunter’s shack—” Just the thought of it broke him out in a cold sweat.

  “It’s beautiful.” Ella ran a finger down the curve of the hilt. “Will you teach me how to use it?”

  The curving hilt she so lovingly caressed, reminded him of her hip, smooth and graceful. “You’ll be an expert by the time we’re through. I had it commissioned for you specifically. It’s made to fit in only your hand, balanced for your height. I know it’s not a typical wedding gift, but you’re not a typical bride.” Gods, I’m rambling here! “If you like it, I would be proud to have you wear it. I have the scabbard—”

  Ella threw her arms around his neck and kissed him so long and so deep, he couldn’t breathe. Air is highly overrated anyway.

  Breaking the breathless plundering, she blurted out, “I love it and I’m never taking it off.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, you’ll take it off, all right. And I need to take my cummerbund off.”

  The tingle grew, climbing his spine. He made short work of the buckle and threw the sash to the side. The rest of his clothes followed, all landing in a heap on the floor.

  Aleksander took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers, then folded his four legs beneath him to lie back on the floor bed.

  Ella’s enjoyable body lay draped over his chest, her soft sighs music to his ears. Her restless hands tunneled in his hair and then drifted down his neck, to his shoulders, to his chest. She pulled on his tuft of mane before it disappeared completely, the sensitive spot shooting straight to his groin. Hind legs receded, his back shortened, and four hooves shape shifted into two feet.

  And the whole time, Ella’s hands wandered his body. Gods, he loved his mate. Unable to wait any longer, he rolled between her thighs.
His hands pushed her breasts up and together. He then licked them greedily from peak to peak.

  “Aleksander…”

  “Yes, Kalos.”

  “Make love to me.”

  “As you wish…my wife.”

  Hearing his name—his full name—on Ella’s lips brought a heightened sense he’d never experienced. It was more than sexual intimacy.

  It was the power of love.

  The majestic power Ella held over him. An energy force that kept him captivated, on edge, forever in love.

  Neither of them wanted to waste time with foreplay.

  Alek touched her heated center and found her swollen and wet with need. The discovery thickened his hard cock. Slipping inside was a matter of lifting his hips and pushing himself in. Slow and sweet, he delighted in her body. He alternated with both his hands and mouth to caress her silky skin. His hands scooped under her hips, lifted her, and joined them deeply together.

  Designed by the hands of the gods, their fit was perfect. The moment so right.

  Outside the bedroom, the world dropped away. All that remained for him, was there in his arms and surrounded him like a silk glove. Every thrust and pull increased his strain, tightened his testicles, pushed toward his release.

  Fate brought them together, to this moment in time, to cherish each other forever.

  Together, from this point on, these are the memories he wanted to make.

  “Ella—I love you.” Gods, what he felt in his heart was more than words could say.

  “Oh Alek, I luh—luh—” His pumping into her, took her words away.

  Oh yeah, I still have it. Only now my mate is the one who’ll experience this…nobody else. He chuckled softly to himself as he started to plunge inside of her in earnest, changing his grip to lift her legs over his shoulders.

  Her loud moan sent shudders through him, hardened him even further, if that were possible. A surge of heat blasted south to concentrate at his tip. Aleksander clenched his teeth to hold back the release. Between Ella’s soft cries that nearly had him undone and her tightening core muscles, he knew he was the luckiest Centaur on Earth.