by Renee Field
“By the Saints, oh my, oh my, ohmymy…” panted Rowena, as she came.
Her wet cream slid down his throat as his tongue licked her dry. Her taste was now fully implanted in his being and he knew he would kill any that tried to sample what was his.
“Tulon,” she moaned.
He didn’t want to think about his actions, so he didn’t hesitate. Positioning himself between her legs, he looked up, noting the fear in her sky-blue eyes. He knew she was having doubts but he didn’t want to explain that everything would be okay. He simply wanted to claim all of her.
“Tulon,” she breathed, and before she could say anything more, he nudged her folds open with the tip of his cock and plunged deep inside her tight opening. He stilled, letting her body get used to the feel of him deep within her. Then he slowly withdrew only to slide deliciously, inch by thick inch, back into her hot pussy.
He felt her hands on his back as she pulled at him, wanting all of him deep inside her and that spurred him on. Without further finesse, he plunged in deeper, and then he rode her hard. Deep, long, thorough strokes that brought instant heat to her body.
“Come for me again, Rowena. Fly with me,” he said, loving how she instinctively wrapped her long, silky legs around him, urging him on.
“Harder,” she panted, her nails raking his back, while she grasped his ass with her legs.
He loved that she liked it wild. She reminded him of the fillies on Mount Atrophe.
Tucking his hands under her ass, he lifted her hips, allowing him even deeper penetration. He swore he could touch her womb and her wet, hot heat was slowly eroding all of his control. Before he climaxed, he wanted her to join him, so he circled his hips, knowing the sensation would nudge her secret sensitive spot, while his cock screamed for release.
“Oh mymymy!” cried Rowena, arching up off the grass, to grip his back harder as she climaxed again and flew to her own pleasure.
Tulon threw back his head, roaring his satisfaction, as he pumped his seed deep inside her womb. He loved how her pussy muscles milked him for all he was worth.
Careful not to position all of his weight on her, he leaned down to tenderly kiss her. She held him tight to her chest. Tears ran freely down her cheeks. He hoped they were tears of joy.
“I’m so sorry, Tulon,” mumbled Rowena into his shoulder.
Then she turned her head to finally look at him. Her blue eyes were rimmed with pools of salty tears.
“I’m not sorry, Rowena, so why are you?” he said, hating he had kept secret that he wasn’t Maida.
“You’re going to die,” she said, sniffling on even more tears.
“No, I’m not,” he said, sheepishly. He ached to tell her the truth.
Before he could say another thing, a loud piercing whistle sliced through the air.
“What was that?” asked Rowena, trying to poke her head over his shoulder. “By the Saints, where are we?”
Finally withdrawing from her, Tulon looked around at his surroundings. “Blast it,” he mumbled. Somehow in the throes of his passion, he had flashed them to Mount Atrophe and that wasn’t good.
“Get the two-leggeds,” commanded a loud, booming voice that caused all the hairs on his head to stand on end.
Tulon knew he had to get them off Mount Atrophe and fast. Worse, the only safe and quick way was to flash into a stallion.
Turning to look at Rowena, he stilled his heart. “What you’re about to see is probably going to scare you, but it’s the only thing I can think of that will get us out of here. For once, do as I say,” he commanded.
Not waiting for her response, he walked a safe distance away from her. Then, without thinking any more about his actions, he let the magic fuel his cells and willed his body to flash into his true form—a Centaur.
He held his breath, hoping that for once the magic had listened to him. A toss of his mane told him it wasn’t so. He was a blasted stallion. He still couldn’t control the strange pulse of magic that hummed through his system. Hating what had become of him, he pranced on all fours, all but stomping the lush meadow as anger surged through the marrow of his bones.
“I thought sex was supposed to stop the hallucinations,” giggled Rowena, still sitting on the grass.
Tossing his mane, he pawed the ground again. Lifting his head, he let the magic run wild within him, not caring that he couldn’t control some of it, as a red haze of power floated above him. He had never felt more frustrated in his life.
His keen senses told him that the Gaffelion warriors were fast approaching. He pawed the ground again, willing her to understand that she had to mount him so they could leave. If they didn’t, and if she was caught, she’d be killed without a second glance.
Prancing closer, he knelt down, wondering what she would do.
The last thing he expected was a sweet sigh, as she leaned her head into his velvety smooth mane and stroked him.
“You’re not really Maida, are you?” she asked.
He snorted. Nodding his head, Tulon hated that he couldn’t communicate with her. His sensitive ears could discern that the Gaffelion warriors were almost upon them. Nudging her to get on his back, he thanked the Saints when she complied.
Once she had a firm grip of his thick mane, he galloped off, loving the feel and smell of her still naked flesh on his. When she wrapped her hands around his neck, the feel of her breasts bouncing on him caused him to think of all the delicious things he would like to do with her now that she wasn’t repulsed by him being a stallion.
However what he really wanted to be able to show her was what he had been—a Centaur. Frustrated by his lack of ability to control the magic, he forced his legs to pick up the pace, knowing they had a long, hard ride ahead of them if they were going to join the Pegcentaur clan by nightfall. By then, Rowena would be tired and sore. Once he flashed back into a human, he planned to kiss away every ache on her delectable flesh.
Chapter Nine
Rowena figured she had been having the best erotic dream of her life. Mind-shattering, melt your bones, yummy sex that had her sensitive clit aching for more and her hot core muscles clenching in anticipation, and now this.
She was riding a black, velvety smooth stallion, bare ass and all. And it wasn’t just any stallion. It was Tulon.
Without a doubt, she knew all of her brain cells had completely degenerated. In truth, she was simply waiting for all her other bodily functions to start to shut down. But before that happened, she figured why not enjoy it while it lasted.
With her thighs spread over Tulon’s wide back, she bumped along as his pace picked up. Her breasts, aching with renewed need, bounced up and down and sometimes sideways as she held on for dear life. She had no idea what was after them, but if Tulon was running from it, she knew it was bad.
When he reared up on his hind legs, she scrambled for a tighter hold of his thick, midnight mane.
Then she saw them. A hysterical, high-pitched crazed laugh took hold of her.
In front of her had to be the most mixed-up creatures she had ever seen. Four of the large creatures stood directly in front of her and Tulon. Each had a giraffe’s body with long legs and a long neck, but they had a lion’s tail, two small wings that looked incapable of flight, and their faces were in the shape of a lion’s, equipped with a thick golden mane.
What shocked her more was that one of them spoke and she could understand it. She had expected it would either neigh or roar at her, but hearing clipped, civilized words stream eloquently from its muzzle freaked her out.
“We know it’s you, Tulon. Your scent gives you away,” said the largest of the creatures as it restlessly pawed the ground.
Tulon lowered himself to the ground. Taking that as her cue to dismount, Rowena did just that. Hiding herself behind Tulon, she blushed at her nakedness from her toes to the roots of her short-cropped hair.
A blinding white flash was her only warning and then Tulon materialized next to her in human form, looking not one bit pleased with
the situation.
“What are they?” she whispered.
“Those are Gaffelions. They are guardians of Mount Atrophe. They are beastly,” said Tulon. “Magel, go away,” he snapped, dismissing the strange creature.
When Tulon took in her state of undress, she shook from his heated intense look. When he touched her shoulder, heat slammed into her body as a part of whatever he was seeped into her being. Before she knew it, she was once again fully clothed in her breeches, tunic and sandals.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling more in control of herself.
“You know I have to take you to Fredia, our Beloved Pleasure Mistress,” said the creature who Tulon had called Magel.
“Can’t you just wish us out of here?” asked Rowena, wondering what type of powers Tulon had.
Tulon simply shook his head.
Turning her attention to the weird creatures, Rowena asked the obvious. “Okay, why won’t you let us leave? We didn’t mean to come here and we really need to be on our way,” she stated in her no-nonsense tone of voice. She notched her chin up as she started to move forward.
Tulon hauled her closer to him.
“You’re a two-legged. No two-leggeds are allowed on Mount Atrophe. The punishment is most severe,” said Magel, with a crooked smile that looked ridiculous on a lion’s face.
“I am sick of all of this, Tulon. None of this makes any sense to me,” said Rowena, flapping her arms in the air, exasperated beyond means. “All I wanted to do was help you escape and so far I’ve met more myths and legends that have come true than I can stomach. And, this,” she turned her attention back to the crazy creatures, “this makes no sense whatsoever.”
Trying to muster her courage, she disgraced herself when a loud sniffle gave her away. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. Frustrated and at her limit, Rowena wanted more than anything to indulge in her own self-pity act. Brushing off Tulon’s gentle hand on her shoulder, she stalked away only to come face-to-face with a magnificent creature.
“Kneel, woman!” shouted Magel.
Rowena turned her head to look at Tulon. He stood regally tall, not bothering to bend even a finger at the imposing creature standing before them. Only when two Gaffelions forced him to kneel on the ground, did she follow suit, scrambling to her knees and bowing her head in submission.
A bright red flash fell over the entire meadow and when Rowena next peeked, gone was the magnificent unicorn and in its place was a man. His skin was the color of midnight and he gleamed as if he had been coated with gold fairy dust. He was all muscle in all the right places and his piercing green eyes fixed themselves on her.
Instantly she felt heat pool to her core. The need to rub herself almost caused her to move her own hand to her wet pussy. She flinched, fighting his sexual attraction.
Next to her, Tulon looked up and groaned.
“Tulon, you have brought me a gift. Thank you. You may rise.”
The man had a rich deep voice and accent, which caused Rowena’s nipples to peak to attention. It was the same reaction she had when Tulon spoke. Not that I would ever admit that to him.
“She is not for you, Prince,” said Tulon, moving closer to Rowena.
“So you say. Let us see.”
“Prince?” Rowena squeaked as she eyed the man who was now advancing toward her. She tried hard to will her eyes to look elsewhere, but his shaft was impressive. Sex all but oozed off him.
“I see you still haven’t mastered your powers, Tulon. That’s a shame,” sneered the man.
“Oh, shut up,” snapped Tulon.
Immediately, two of the strange Gaffelions surrounded him. “Show respect to your prince,” commanded Magel.
“He’s not my prince. He’s yours. Cut the games. You don’t need us, so let us go,” said Tulon, ignoring the growling beings flanking his sides.
When the prince stood opposite her, Rowena caught his scent and all but swooned. Wild woods, wet streams and a visual image of him taking her in the water caused her to moan.
“Rowena,” said Tulon, shaking his head.
“You know, Tulon, I think she likes me a lot,” said the man, and before she knew it, her clothing had once again disappeared. Bare to the wind, she fought the urge to run.
“You lay a finger on her and you are dead,” growled Tulon, positioning himself between her and the strange man in a blink that caused both of the Gaffelion creatures that had been flanking him to start in surprise.
The very air around Rowena crackled with energy. A hum of something ominous sounded around them as a red glow emanated from Tulon. Afraid of what was happening to him, she backed away.
“You think you can take me on, Tulon, go ahead,” taunted the man, holding out his hands. Pitch-black energy surrounded him.
When Rowena next looked, both Tulon and the man were gone. She was alone with the crazy Gaffelion creatures. And she didn’t like the way they were eyeing her naked flesh like she was dessert.
* * * * *
Tulon had never before experienced such uncontrolled rage. He felt a powerful surge of magic flow into his body and a keen knowledge of how to wield it tickled at his subconscious. The power almost terrified him. But not quite.
He had been bested once by the so-called Prince of the Forest, his old nemesis, Zickal, but now it was an entirely different matter. He would not let Zickal touch one inch of Rowena’s bare skin. Without a doubt, he would kill him if he had to.
“You were always so predictable, Tulon,” sneered Zickal.
Tulon grinned. He liked familiar ground, and that’s exactly what the Plains had become to him over the years. The wide-open space beckoned to him to run wild. The Plains had been his home for years while he trained to become a Centaur warrior. It was here that he had first met Zickal, a mere Centaur, before he had been crowned prince by the Mage Saints of the Forest after Zickal had undergone his thrush two years ago.
That had been the same morning when Tulon had awoken only to discover he was a stallion or a man and could never hold the magic long enough to become Centaur again. Something else leapt through his mind, but he chose to ignore it.
“So, you want to fight the traditional way,” taunted Tulon, loving how the flow of power felt warm and inviting on his skin.
“You know, I had something a bit more dangerous in mind. But you’re probably not Centaur enough to handle it.”
Tulon took two steps toward Zickal so they stood face-to-face. The air around them crackled as the force of their magic touched.
“Name it,” snapped Tulon, simply wanting to get on with it.
“Okay, my challenge is that whoever can get the Maida woman to climax three times gets to have her for good,” said Zickal, eyeing Tulon.
Tulon knew Rowena wasn’t his to bargain with. Worse, if she knew what he was about to agree to, she’d hate him forever. But he liked the idea of giving in to the darker side of his nature and, without a doubt, he was determined to win this wager.
He nodded. “Okay, but I don’t plan on being here for eternity, so let’s sweeten the bargain. Whoever can get the woman to climax three times by the cresting of the dawning sun claims her and gets safe passage out of here. Is that clear?”
“As you wish,” taunted Zickal.
Tulon would have liked nothing better than to knock the so-called Prince of the Forest on his ass. Instead, he reached up to clasp Zickal in the traditional warrior greeting to seal their bargain.
Stepping away from Zickal, Tulon didn’t like the gleam in his eye. Before he could ponder anything further, his nemesis flashed away to who knew where. Tulon growled in frustration. So be it. Let the chase begin.
Chapter Ten
Rowena rubbed her eyes. One minute she was eyeing the four Gaffelions who seemed to be stalking her, and then in the next moment she found herself standing knee-deep in a pool of warm light blue water. To her right was a small waterfall and to her left was a grassy bank that was home to wild pink and white roses. She fought against the urge t
o sneeze. She hated roses. The scent of them reminded her of her aunts and that wasn’t pleasant.
“So, my lovely, you are called Rowena and you are Maida. It is a pleasure to meet you,” said the prince.
Rowena hadn’t even seen him. She had been so intent on trying to figure out where she was that she hadn’t even noticed him, lazily leaning against a large boulder—naked, casually stroking his thick, long shaft.
How by the Saints did I miss him? His skin gleamed like the color of midnight, his long blond hair streamed to his shoulders and his green eyes stared hungrily at her. Rowena tried to look everywhere but at him. She turned her back to him and then she felt the crackle of energy singe her skin. He was a breath away from her now.
“You are a lovely sight to behold. Your breasts would fit perfectly in my hands. Ahh, I see they, too, like me,” said the prince.
Rowena turned away from him. She knew what he was trying to do. Like Tulon, his deep baritone voice had taken on a seductive quality that went straight to her pussy. And his words had caused her nipples to harden to pebbled buds. She shook her head. She wasn’t interested in him, she kept telling herself.
“So, where’s Tulon?” she asked, keeping her back to him. As least that way he could only eye her ass.
In her crazed desire for sex, simply seeing his chiseled body had quickened her blood, peaked her nipples and caused her core to drip with cream. Mad at her irrational reaction to the prince, man or whatever he was, she fought against the urge to run. There was something about him she didn’t like.
“Tulon? Don’t you worry your pretty little ass about him. He’s fine. I have a gift for you,” he said, conjuring a long-stemmed rose in his hand.
Before she had a chance to wonder what it was, she felt his hands skim suggestively over her lower backside, across her bottom and around her midsection as they slowly inched toward her breasts.