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Book: Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4) by Rachael Slate
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Authors: Rachael Slate
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boast, but he might be right. Oreius unraveled her in ways she’d never believed a person could be undone. A husband, children, these were not things a nymph dreamed about or planned for.
Yet here her mate stood before her, offering everything he had to give.
The safety and security of his bond to her provided more than that. Tonight was the first time she’d ever stepped into a hall of men and not drawn their lewd attentions.
Nymphs usually either sought out such notice, or avoided it altogether.
Nysa had, in her younger days, toyed with males, but she’d learned her lesson. Deimos had encountered her at such a gathering. That was in the past, and now, he was securely imprisoned in the dungeon, never to harm her again.
She smiled at Oreius. The pain flickered in his eyes on occasion, but it lessened each day. She brushed aside his long, pale locks and admired the serene smile on his face.
I did this. Not with her waters, but with her love.
The bonding meant so much to centaurs. Tonight, his people had greeted her with reverent respect, as though she was cherished and precious to them.
“I seem to still be wearing my clothes, centaur. Might you aid me in removing them?”
“At your service, milady.” His eager fingers tore through the laces and peeled aside each layer of fabric, like a lad unwrapping a treasured gift. He plucked her gown over her head, baring her entirely, and whistled low. “I swear you grow more beautiful each time I see you.” Devotion glimmered in his dark eyes.
Was it love? For a centaur, the bonding surpassed any other union. Yet, he’d forged the bonding with Sarra out of love for her.
Would he have done the same for me?
“You frown like that and I’ll put your dress back on.”
She shoved aside those unwelcome thoughts. Oreius would be dedicated and loyal to her for the rest of his existence.
“It’s nothing.” She stroked her fingers down his cheek, along his firm jawline. After leaning forward, she pressed her mouth against his, breathing him in. His lips parted, his tongue delving and seeking hers, and his hands shifted around to her bottom to give her a firm squeeze.
She slid her fingers to his shoulder and gave a firm shove, propelling him onto his back. Smirking triumphantly, she straddled his hips, his long, proud length jutting between them.
“Now, centaur, you may not wear a bit and bridle, but believe me, you shall be ridden,” she nipped at his lips, “and tamed.”
“I can’t bloody wait.” He linked his hands behind his head, his muscles tensing and jerking beneath her. His stare pinned her while she lifted her hips and sank upon him, his decadent width filling her.
He grunted and rolled his hips, urging her on.
She straightened and undulated against him, riding him in a torturously slow rhythm, until perspiration slicked both of their bodies and his throbbing erection begged for release.
She reached back, grabbing his soft sac in her hand, and squeezed with her nymph powers, compelling him to flood her with his essence. He howled and hot seed flushed through her and, as the waves of ecstasy passed between them, her release followed his.
Sated again, Nysa slumped forward, resting her cheek against his shoulder, his heartbeats thundering in her ear.
Her heart answered, rapidly thrumming to match his.
To claim his.
He cares for me. The reassurance settled her nerves, but she couldn’t halt the nipping bite of fear. That someday, he would find himself devoted to a woman he didn’t love.
And that would ruin her.
Because despite her mind’s warning, she had already fallen in love with him.
***
Cheiron’s sons gathered around the long table in his Great Hall. Oreius observed them, drawing his brows together. Everything had tossed upside down, and nothing was as it should be. Centaurs ought to live out long, happy lives with their mates.
Yet the Fates had torn each of them from that destiny; this War threatened them all.
Agrius and Eione were
Yet here her mate stood before her, offering everything he had to give.
The safety and security of his bond to her provided more than that. Tonight was the first time she’d ever stepped into a hall of men and not drawn their lewd attentions.
Nymphs usually either sought out such notice, or avoided it altogether.
Nysa had, in her younger days, toyed with males, but she’d learned her lesson. Deimos had encountered her at such a gathering. That was in the past, and now, he was securely imprisoned in the dungeon, never to harm her again.
She smiled at Oreius. The pain flickered in his eyes on occasion, but it lessened each day. She brushed aside his long, pale locks and admired the serene smile on his face.
I did this. Not with her waters, but with her love.
The bonding meant so much to centaurs. Tonight, his people had greeted her with reverent respect, as though she was cherished and precious to them.
“I seem to still be wearing my clothes, centaur. Might you aid me in removing them?”
“At your service, milady.” His eager fingers tore through the laces and peeled aside each layer of fabric, like a lad unwrapping a treasured gift. He plucked her gown over her head, baring her entirely, and whistled low. “I swear you grow more beautiful each time I see you.” Devotion glimmered in his dark eyes.
Was it love? For a centaur, the bonding surpassed any other union. Yet, he’d forged the bonding with Sarra out of love for her.
Would he have done the same for me?
“You frown like that and I’ll put your dress back on.”
She shoved aside those unwelcome thoughts. Oreius would be dedicated and loyal to her for the rest of his existence.
“It’s nothing.” She stroked her fingers down his cheek, along his firm jawline. After leaning forward, she pressed her mouth against his, breathing him in. His lips parted, his tongue delving and seeking hers, and his hands shifted around to her bottom to give her a firm squeeze.
She slid her fingers to his shoulder and gave a firm shove, propelling him onto his back. Smirking triumphantly, she straddled his hips, his long, proud length jutting between them.
“Now, centaur, you may not wear a bit and bridle, but believe me, you shall be ridden,” she nipped at his lips, “and tamed.”
“I can’t bloody wait.” He linked his hands behind his head, his muscles tensing and jerking beneath her. His stare pinned her while she lifted her hips and sank upon him, his decadent width filling her.
He grunted and rolled his hips, urging her on.
She straightened and undulated against him, riding him in a torturously slow rhythm, until perspiration slicked both of their bodies and his throbbing erection begged for release.
She reached back, grabbing his soft sac in her hand, and squeezed with her nymph powers, compelling him to flood her with his essence. He howled and hot seed flushed through her and, as the waves of ecstasy passed between them, her release followed his.
Sated again, Nysa slumped forward, resting her cheek against his shoulder, his heartbeats thundering in her ear.
Her heart answered, rapidly thrumming to match his.
To claim his.
He cares for me. The reassurance settled her nerves, but she couldn’t halt the nipping bite of fear. That someday, he would find himself devoted to a woman he didn’t love.
And that would ruin her.
Because despite her mind’s warning, she had already fallen in love with him.
***
Cheiron’s sons gathered around the long table in his Great Hall. Oreius observed them, drawing his brows together. Everything had tossed upside down, and nothing was as it should be. Centaurs ought to live out long, happy lives with their mates.
Yet the Fates had torn each of them from that destiny; this War threatened them all.
Agrius and Eione were
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