Remedy Maker

by Sheri Fredricks

  No. The hunters hadn’t raped her, thank the gods. But it had been damn close.

  Rhycious must have sensed her hesitance, because he set her down and slowly kissed a path down her neck. His hands stroked her back, offering comfort in his gentle warmth. Slowing things down, he rekindled her flame. A bona fide wanton, she arched against him, behaving without thought.

  A deep growl reverberated in his chest and he ground his hips against her. He altered the slant of their kiss and drove his tongue into her mouth as his hand stroked downward, over the swell of her hip. Cupping her ass, he brought her feminine cleft against his stiffness.

  Her whimper of need slipped out, and he surged against her as if a levee was breached and containment threatened to dissolve. This was exactly what she needed from him, what she wanted.

  And gods, she wanted him.

  She wanted Rhycious to take her right there, right now, on the butcher block or down on the floor. It didn’t matter.

  Sexual insanity.

  Thirteen

  Patience looped her arms around Rhy’s neck and wrapped her legs around his middle, his hands curved over her rump.

  Rhycious stepped out of the kitchen and crossed toward her bedroom, but hesitated and changed direction. Instead, he walked her into the sunny-yellow bathroom, and sat her down on the counter. “I bet you would like a soak in the tub first.”

  “I’ve been dreaming of that all the way home.”

  He unbuttoned the shirt she’d borrowed that morning. The battle-scarred hands of a seasoned warrior, long and strong, were considerably tender as he peeled away the stained material. The harsh way Tom had touched her passed through her mind, and she shuddered.

  “Do I frighten you, polytima?” Rhycious asked softly.

  Patience shook her head. “No. It’s just that he—” Another shiver of revulsion passed through her, and tears blurred her vision. “One of them—touched me. It was awful. And now—I feel so damn dirty.” She wrapped her arms around herself and hugged tight.

  Rhycious kissed the drops that fell from her eyes. He murmured in his deep, calming voice. “It’ll be all right, babe. I’ll take the bad away.”

  And she knew without a doubt in her mind that her Centaur savior would do just that. A serene peace settled over her, loosening the hold she had on herself, and her shoulders relaxed.

  He filled her soaking tub with warm water. Leaving her alone for a moment, he left with the shirt wadded up in his hand, and returned with a small bottle of peppermint oil and rosemary leaves, adding both to the bath. When the tub filled and the mirror fogged, he finished undressing her and helped her step into the steamy water.

  Heaven at one hundred and four degrees soothed with enveloping warmth. Fragrances of spice and oil drifted in the steam, filling her senses, removing the smells of unclean human hunters, gun oil, and fear.

  Patience leaned back in the bathtub and closed her eyes, unwinding for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Her body lay engulfed in tides of weariness that weighed her down.

  Rhycious reached over the tub’s edge and washed the filth away. He ran the sponge tenderly over her face, the strokes soothing, bathing all her bruised and violated body parts. Infinitely careful, he swirled the sponge around her ears, down her throat, and smoothed it over her breasts. He pressed lingering kisses to her temple, pouring the scented water with his cupped hand over her skin and hair, again and again—healing her with the cleansing warmth.

  Not wanting to break the magical spell, Patience didn’t utter a word. She let Rhycious remove the evidence of brutality with his touch and murmured words of adoration.

  She drowned in need. To be clean. Healthy. Whole.

  Locating her sister loomed like a summer storm in the Boronda Forest, making these precious moments with Rhy all the more special. She absorbed his gentleness and strength, infused his showered affection, and stored it for safekeeping in her heart.

  Their relationship was impossible, their cultures divided. The future for them was a dream going nowhere. She memorized each stroke of his hand, kiss of his lips, and prayed the moment would last forever.

  However, the water cooled, and her skin prickled.

  “Let’s get you dried off before you turn into a Water Nymph.” Unmindful of the dripping water, Rhycious’s arms came around and he lifted her out of the tub. He used a pink towel to rub her dry before wrapping her up in its fluffy softness. Like a young sapling, he sat her sideways on the vanity and proceeded to comb the snarls from her hair. Inside the cabinet he found some ointment, and dabbed it on a cut along her jaw, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

  Bliss.

  She hadn’t been this pampered in forever. Knotted muscles in her neck and shoulders released their tension. Though exhausted and hurting, Rhycious made her feel more alive and exhilarated than she’d ever felt in her life.

  Finished with the comb, he picked her up and carried her to bed. Her heartbeat was steady and calm while her mind floated in tranquility. Warm and clean, she was boneless in his arms.

  Rhy tossed her towel aside and she slid between the cool sheets, pulling the covers up to her chin.

  “Thank you. You saved my life, and I don’t how I’ll ever repay you.” Patience could offer him nothing of value. She had nothing to give.

  He glanced down at his clothing, lips pressed together. “You don’t need to thank me. I couldn’t imagine . . . .” He shook his head. “Be right back.”

  Rhycious walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. The faucet came on and water splashed in the tub. Ten minutes later, he returned with his damp hair hanging on either side of his handsome face. The blood-splattered tee was gone, and so were the jeans. What stood beside the bed was one-hundred percent, unadulterated, in the raw eye candy.

  Various nicks and scars peppered the front of his well-defined torso—badges of a warrior. It was hard to reconcile the man who had just bathed her to the warrior she’d encountered earlier. The one who had crested the hill with the blood of his enemies splashed across him.

  Water droplets caught in the hair sprinkling his chest, and pooled to create a larger drip slowly traversing the trail that led lower. Dark hair framed his semi-hard glory. Her heart leaped, the sight of him tightened her nipples, and her inner core muscles tightened as well. Restless beneath the covers, she shifted, damp between her legs.

  A long, jagged scar mapped a trail from the tip of his hip and curved around to the back of his thigh. She wondered what he had gone through in the war before her sprouted beginning. To know it was her people who caused the defacing of a perfectly designed body, burned at her conscience.

  Rhycious crawled into bed, and lay naked beside her. Patience scooted closer and nestled into his warm embrace, wrapping her arm around him. Her body pressed snug from her cheek to his big toe. They were a custom-made fit.

  “Rhycious?”

  “Shh, polytima. You need to sleep.”

  She lifted her head from where it pillowed on his shoulder, and peered into his eyes. He lay with one hand beneath his head, staring at the ceiling.

  “No. Right now, I need you,” she said. The lights along the ceiling’s edge glowed in his whiskey-colored eyes. “I need to feel safe again. I need to feel your touch, to wipe it all away.”

  Rhycious studied her face, raw desire reflected in his eyes, filling her heart to near bursting.

  I love him.

  She honestly never thought she’d live long enough to feel this all-consuming passion. The mysterious taste of the untouchable sweetness now only a hair’s breadth away. Her muscles, her bones—her very being—throbbed with the intensity of her emotion.

  She loved him, and stroked her hand along his jaw. “Please, Rhy. Heal me. Be my remedy maker.”

  Patience had nothing in which to repay him for his bravery and healing touch, but she could offer him the memory of her love. Long after departing this world, a part of her would live on inside Rhycious—in his memory, and in his heart.
r />   “I need you to make love to me.” Her hands slipped from his face to follow the smooth lines of his neck.

  Lifting onto his side, Rhy tucked an escaped curl behind her ear, then lowered his head and kissed her slowly. He tasted sweet from the cream cheese and his own unique flavor. His work-calloused hand drifted down her side and back up again, goose bumps rising in its wake. “I want you, too.”

  His warm lips brushed against hers. She trembled in his arms. His body, large and muscular, crushed her into the soft mattress. The very size of him made her feel delicate and small. Ridged and hard as a washboard, his tanned abdomen pressed to her smooth skin.

  Patience lay still, holding her breath while his hand caressed her collarbone, and then dipped to cup a breast. Warmth spread in a ripple causing her peaked nipples to constrict tighter. His brawny arm wrapped her shoulders, holding her tight against him at the same moment his wet lips covered hers. Moist heat consumed her, and she moaned into his mouth.

  With a quick movement, she found herself buried completely beneath him while the assault on her tongue and senses continued. Fire raged in them, burning deep. It blazed between them, flaming from the inside out. Her tongue dueled with his, forcing her surrender to his dominance, a wild dance of mating.

  Rhycious raised his head and took a deep breath, eyes closed. “I’ve got to slow down. You’re getting me all worked up.”

  A whimper caught in her throat. Of its own accord, her body went supple and pliant, shaping itself to his needs, breasts pressed tight to his chest. Her hands roamed helplessly, moved by a compulsion to feel him beneath her fingers. Their kiss went on and on. Neither could get enough, each wanted to crawl beneath the other’s skin, into their soul.

  Next to her shoulders, he straightened his arms, placing his knees between her spread thighs. Amid her straddling legs, he sat back with an optimum view. One hand cupped her breast while his other massaged her taut stomach.

  “I want you in my mouth, polytima. I want to taste you, and have your nipple between my lips.”

  Patience moaned, and her mind staggered with the erotic images Rhycious conjured up. Beneath his fingers, her muscles jumped, anticipating his next move. Desiring it. His fingers slid over her hips to trace every curved line conveying her feminine shape. Her temperature rose. Sexual desire burned hot, like a fever in her blood.

  “You’re so damn beautiful, Patience. A gift from the gods.”

  Her hands roamed his thighs; the wiry hair tickling her palms. Striations of muscles carved his thick legs and she traced the contours with her fingers. So opposite of her smooth limbs—she nearly went numb.

  Rhycious lowered his mouth to her throat. Licking, nibbling, feasting like a man starved. It was intoxicating, exhilarating, and a little frightful. She arched her neck to expose more flesh, inviting him to continue—moaning deep in her throat when he advanced.

  His lips moved along her smooth column with military precision, exulting in her path of nonresistance. He caught her breasts, lifted and gently squeezed them. Pushed them together and ran the pads of his thumbs over her sensitive nipples in broad strokes. Her body pushed against his hands, making its desires known. She grappled within her mind to stay in control, to not lose herself in overwhelming seduction.

  Patience’s breath came in sharp pants. She’d never experienced anything so carnal in her life. Passion weighted her eyelids to half-mast while his teeth grazed her skin. Reflecting back was her image in his onyx eyes.

  Between tanned fingers, Rhy rolled her swollen nipples, subtly plucking the turgid peaks. She caught her breath when a whimper threatened to slip out. Inflamed with need, she tasted each seductive awakening by watching his skilled hands travel over her.

  He raised his head a fraction and caught her eye, his heavy-lidded stare dark with passion. Her eyes drifted down to his mouth and those incredibly sensuous lips gleaming in the low light, wet from her kisses. She gazed and imagined them sucking and tugging at her breasts, licking her nipples. In the meantime, his hand touched her elsewhere.

  “What are you doing to me?” Her breath barely moved from her lips as languid weakness floated through her.

  Rhy chuckled, a deep, satisfied rumble. “I’m giving my patient a most thorough examination, of course.”

  He swept a hand over her ribs and down her stomach, not stopping until he pressed his palm to cover her hairless juncture. Of their own accord, her knees drew higher to squeeze either side of his thighs, then relaxed apart.

  A growl reverberated low in his throat.

  “Thelo na su kano erota.” Rhy’s smoky voice whispered the foreign words. The desired effect washed over her, diluting her common sense.

  “That’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

  He whispered against her lips. “I want to make love to you . . . over and over.”

  Never removing his hand from where it lay guarding the entrance created for only him, he kissed her again. His taste filled her mouth, and she wriggled against the pressure of his palm.

  His free hand framed her face, soft lips kissed her, and then he sat back. Rhy’s blistering gaze dropped from her eyes, to her breasts, and finally to where his hand protected, possessed—and he stared. His rigid cock applauded against his stomach in appreciation. He slipped his fingers over her, caressed her, spreading the pool of liquid he found against her fevered, receptive flesh. He stroked her intimately, wringing a gasp from her lips.

  A haze of euphoria clouded her eyes; his strong fingers stroked her slippery skin. Heat of impatience and longing built inside her.

  “Gamóto. You’re so damn hot.” His eyes smoldered with passion.

  She couldn’t laugh at his tortured expression since he tortured her just as much. “Gods, Rhy. This feels so good. Come on,” she begged. “Make love to me already.”

  “Not yet.” He grasped both of her hands in one of his and raised them above her head, gently holding them prisoner for her erotic pleasure. Slowly, Rhy inserted his thick finger into her drenched sheath. His lubricated digit slid past the clenched muscles, and blasted her to the top of the trees. A second finger carefully joined the first, and he slid them all the way in.

  “Feel me,” he whispered. “Close your eyes and just let yourself feel.” The centuries old voice, smooth and hypnotic, washed over her in sexy waves. “I want to give this to you, agape mou.”

  Patience moaned a mixture of longing, desperation, and need. Her heart pounded too hard, too fast. He kissed her, gently exploring until she went up in flames, moist with wanting him.

  Rhy’s sultry language tingled against her ears. Her breathing became ragged, and he plunged in a deep rhythmic motion, matching his thrusts to her breath. Inside her, small muscles tightened around his fingers, and her body shuddered with the intensity of pleasure. In ardent demand, Patience pulled on the hand restraining her, rolling her head from side to side. Her hips pushed. She wasn’t able to control her responses.

  Instinct took over. Rhycious propelled her closer to the edge.

  Oh gods! She wanted him. This man who teetered on the edge of mental stability, whose overwhelming masculinity made her cry out and withdraw at the same time.

  Rhy’s name caught in her throat, she exhaled a strangled breath. His gyrating hand moved against her. He watched with rapt attention, eyes smoldering amber. Moist lips parted, his hot breath fanned her face.

  Like a stallion scenting a mare, his nostrils flared wide, taking in her musky fragrance of arousal. The thrusting pressure increased, and he whispered, “Come for me, love. I would never hurt you. Let go. Come, come, come . . . .”

  Rhycious flicked his thumb along her tiny bud of nerves, and she exploded into shards of beckoning light. The fallout bowled over her, stealing her breath. His naughty fingers never stopped their maddening race and she arched off the bed, pulling against the vice-like grip at her wrists.

  She trusted him. He would never hurt her.

  Rhycious’s mouth came crashing down just when she would
have cried out. Merciless lips worked with an appetite as voracious as her womb, sucking and impassioned.

  Her chest was heaving when Rhy released her wrists. Lazily withdrawing his sodden fingers, he twirled them in her juices. Then he sucked his fingers into his mouth and hummed approval.

  Passion pounded the blood through her heart, head, and inner core. He dipped into her wetness again, and then his wet hand wrapped his magnificent cock and stroked her cream from tip to base.

  “I’m really . . . .” His breath blew ragged and his head fell back, jaw clenched, eyes closed tight. Sinew and muscle stood out, stretched tight in sexual tension. He swallowed, as if holding raw emotion in check. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

  She nodded, knowing he would never cause her pain. He had said as much and she believed him. Even after that mind-blowing orgasm, aftershocks still rocking her, she wanted him—

  Inside her.

  Rhycious shuddered with the effort to control his body, to contain his passion. His eyes darkened. Compelling. Magnetic. He lowered his body over hers, and his warm hand stroked her face. Silky strands of his hair trailed to caress her cheeks in damp tracks. “It’ll be all right. I’ll take care of you, babe.”

  His cock notched to her opening and her impatience grew to explosive proportions. He pushed in, slowly, taking it one small agonizing measure at a time. Rhy pulled away slightly and pushed back in, stretching and filling her. His breath came in soul-drenching drafts, arms shaking from his efforts.

  Skin to skin, they were one.

  Patience welcomed him into her body, desperate to have more of him. When he pushed with his next thrust, she pushed back and plunged Rhycious straight to the hilt in one smooth move.

  She took everything he gave, and arched her back for more.

  Fullness bloomed within and her body quickly adjusted, the slick walls easing his way. Rhycious filled her completely. He pulled nearly all the way out, and pushed back in, inch by torturous inch. His movements were slow and calculated. She sensed her body’s response. Heat and fire stoked to burn a raging inferno.