He turned her so that she was facing away from him. His strong hands cupped and stroked her breasts from behind as he gently pushed her against the tree. Still squeezing her nipples, he rose up on his hind legs and leaned with his fore legs against the tree truck. Static crackled from his underbelly, which was pressed hard against her back. She felt his hindquarters gyrate sensually against her bum and then, the red-hot tip of his pulsating shaft bumping against the moist entry of her vagina.
Her body shook with the shock of realization. If his tip was so big, his entire cock had to be monumental. He couldn’t possibly fit inside her. Fear pumped her desire-leaden limbs into alertness. She struggled against him as he moved to enter her.
“Stop! You’re suffocating me!” she cried out.
The centaur immediately moved off her and was back on four hooves.
She was running before she knew it with his hurt voice calling out his lover’s name echoing in her ears. The undergrowth slapped resoundingly against her legs as she ran. The play of dappled light through the canopy was dizzying. Panting, she stopped after she could run no more. Hammering in her head was the admission that she was totally lost.
“Michael,” she managed to gasp his name. The second time.
There was a movement to her left.
She whirled around.
A satyr slowly emerged from the bushes, slightly breathless from giving her chase. Two bulky ram horns curled out from the sides of his head. His dreadlocks draped sleekly over strapping shoulders. His sinewy form was barely held under control from pouncing on her. She readied to flee again.
“Bodicea, please stop running, you know I am here to protect you,” he said pleadingly.
“No you aren’t,” she responded nervously, her glance darting around.
Guilt played across his face as he mumbled, “All right, I was gone for a while…a long while. But now I’m back…somehow…and you’re here,” his voice brightened, “I’m here with you forever this time, Water of my soul.”
He came forward out of the bushes. His hands were holding out a gigantic bunch of lilies of the valley as he said amorously, “See, I remember your favorite, I have kept it all this time to give it to you once we are reunited.”
Its fragrance was heady and overpowering. Ellen swooned.
In the blink of an eye, he had caught her gallantly in his arms. Her head was supported in the crook of his right arm. His left hand still held one stem from the bunch of flowers he had dropped upon catching her. Loose petals from the rest of the bunch cascaded gently down around them.
She felt him trace the stem of flowers in tantalizing circles around her nipple, and then he gave the tip of her breast the lightest of pokes. Her chest heaved in response. Then he lightly ran the flowers down her middle and drew a lazy half-circle around her belly button, which elicited another involuntary squirm from her. He proceeded to brush the silken mound between her legs, teasing her pubic hair, then tickling the soft folds of her pussy and finally stroking her tiny button. The tingling sensation of the soft petals and leaves fuelled her with strange, out-worldly excitement. She felt wetness between her legs and emitting a soft moan, she wrapped her legs around his waist. She wriggled against the rough fur of his lower body, which stimulated a burning friction against the skin of her smooth thighs. His hot cock throbbed against her.
As he made the move to penetrate, there was a sudden blur of motion as a black form slammed into the satyr, splitting his and Ellen’s bodies apart. Rolling over, partially stunned, she heard ominous growling and a snapping of teeth, then silence. Before she could make another move, she saw a shadow fall over her and then felt a wet tongue draw a straight line from the bottom of her spine to the top—the move electrically charged. She was still aroused from the last encounter and the feeling of being constantly on the edge was becoming painfully frustrating.
With desire-blurred vision, she turned her head back to look straight into the black face of a dire-wolf. His regal eyes shone with keen intelligence and were filled with something else beyond what a mere beast was capable. She shook her head with dazed amazement. Things were happening too fast for her to be scared.
“Don’t you remember me, my darling Lupeca?” he spoke in human tongue—his voice edged with an exhilarated whine. He licked her nose with a fondness borne of an intimacy for a lover of whom she was not.
“Don’t you remember how we shape-shifted to escape those who spurned our forbidden love?” he continued, rubbing his muzzle against first one cheek of hers, then the other in his eagerness to please. As he did so, his body transfigured from that of a canine to a furred, impressively buffed man-shape. He sucked in her scent and a look of utmost pleasure crossed his refined man’s face, still furred although now fully transformed from the wolf’s snout.
“And in the wilderness, don’t you remember how you gave birth to and suckled our twins? You cannot imagine the eternal regret I bear for never being with them as they grew up, for never being with you. But now, it’s a miracle, you’re here, my Everlasting Moon.”
What was wrong and what was right, shame and shamelessness, guilt and desire warred within her. The gentle nips he made across her shoulders and upper back became more sensuous bites—more insistent and urgent—commanding signals given by an alpha-male to his mate. She felt him move down to suck and bite the pearly cheeks of her bum. Then, positioning himself above her, he rubbed his furry underside against her spine. She felt the blazing length of his stiffened shaft upon her lower back. The sensation of bare skin against bare skin instantly ignited her loins. Letting loose all inhibitions, she opened her legs and tilted her hips, panting for him. With a man-like cry, he lunged inside her slick opening.
“My Love, Lupeca!” he yelped as he proceeded to slam in and out of her with rapid savagery, thumping her g-spot deliciously over and over again.
It was with an enormous release when she came to a quick climax before he did. Her body shuddered beneath his onslaught as her hands gripped the strands of grass around her, willing that he too reach the epitome of his pleasure.
Again, interrupted.
The contingent of centaurs, satyrs and dire-wolves had caught up with the coupling pair and they whipped him from her. She instinctively stiffened at their forced separation. Many hands roughly pawed at her in their unconscious, desperate frenzy. They pulled at her hair, squeezed her breasts too tightly, raked her skin and yanked her legs wide apart to their limits. Struggling in vain, she realized with increasing terror that she was going to become their plaything against her will.
“Micheal,” she screamed. The third time.
Suddenly, a word.
“Stop!”
And then another word.
Everything around her dissipated.
And then he had gathered her up into his arms.
She lay limply in his embrace as he took to the air.
Whiteness was invading her vision.
She could only see one thing. His face.
Tears were running from his eyes, which were now of the palest blue like translucent water. His expression was one of twisted remorse and abject horror.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My Love. My Beloved. I was angry, so angry, I turned away and closed my ears. I’m so sorry, so sorry. I’m the most wretched thing to exist. I don’t deserve you. Love of my existence. I love you so much, too much.”
His words washed over her like a healing balm. He was doing something—she knew it was him. Feelings of being protected and secure were being spun around her shocked, trembling mind as it struggled to come to terms with what could have been a terrifying ordeal. He enwrapped her in how he thought humankind must experience love, allowing her a glimpse of what it would be like to be filled with the love of the Presence.
It was untouched by jealousy, unblemished by anything possessive and totally altruistic. It was an absolute love just for another to the point of self-sacrifice.
She clung to him as if she did not want to ever let go.<
br />
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered, “Don’t ever leave me.”
And at last, in his healing embrace, she let sleep claim her.
Chapter Seven
Home
Warm sunlight splashed onto her face.
She woke up suddenly with the familiar sound of crinkling. It was the yellow seashell-patterned quilt that she and Eric had bought during the furnishing spree for their new home.
Home!
On one side was their mirrored wardrobe, reflecting the orchid-filled flowerpots outside the window. All around on the walls were framed photos—one of her holding tightly onto Eric as their hot air balloon launched into the air; another of them laughing as they tried skiing for the first time on their winter holiday. Interspersed between them were pictures she had painted of fantastical scenery and landscapes that did not exist anywhere on Earth.
Ellen almost started crying.
She had imagined that upon her magical return home, she would feel an explosion of relief and happiness. Which did not happen.
Her reaction was more subdued, caught in an entanglement of secret feelings and bewildering half-hidden wants. It made her home coming barren.
The door opened and Eric’s smiling face poked around it.
Sweet memories of their shared history and the miracle of his presence flooded her—infusing her with confused unease.
“Good morning, Beautiful, how’re you feeling?” he asked as he came into their room with a tray of freshly made toast, butter, marmalade and a cup of percolated coffee.
With a speed that she had not thought herself capable, she surged from the bed and pushed aside the tray onto a dressing table. She flung herself urgently into his arms, as if wishing that physical contact could erase her tense uncertainty.
“Oh Eric! Eric,” she mumbled into his shirt, breathing the heady scent of all that was him, feeling his solidarity as if astounded that he was actually here. She grabbed his face to look deep into his light-grey eyes, pronouncing each word carefully in the belief that doing so would make them true, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” before burying her face into the crook of his neck. She believed that her sanity rested on this.
“Hey,” he said laughingly as he stroked her hair, “What’s all this?”
He tipped up her chin and gently touched his lips on hers.
As he withdrew slightly, a wild longing, an ache to eat him instantly seized her. She pressed her lips back onto his, probing softly, wonderingly, silently asking the question. She wanted to re-awaken her own drive that could only be sourced from within. He reciprocated her warmth and demand, taking and giving with increasing measure. The world was spinning around her until nothing else existed but him and her, enmeshed tightly in each other’s burning embrace.
In no time, they had ripped off each other’s clothes. She pushed him onto the bed and leapt onto him, intertwining her limbs with the familiar angles of his lean body. She leaned down to flick her tongue sinuously up and down the underside of his hardening erection. Then she teasingly licked round and round the head of his cock. A low moan escaped him, “Yes, please, yes.”
Then she pushed her mouth into him, swallowing as much of his shaft as she could. As she sucked him, she felt every pulse of blood filling his engorged member vibrating against the insides of her warm, wet mouth.
Gasping, he rolled her to her side as he kissed under her chin and neck, fondling her breasts and tenderly tweaking her nipples so that she pleaded, “Oh stop, no don’t stop,” over and over again. He ran his hand confidently along the curve of her hip, rubbing one cheek of her bottom and then, he smoothly tucked his finger—in, just there. She gasped with delight. Even though he had done this many times, her body always reacted to the sensation of penetration with shivering surprise.
His risen cock pressed against her belly button, simmering. And it was her turn, to shift down and tuck herself into him, like so. At first he was rubbing his tip slowly into and out of her, just at the entry. The feel of his taut, bare flesh against the folds of her sensitive nether lips were pleasurable stabs of heat inflaming her insides.
With a cry, she pushed herself to consume the whole of him.
And it was his turn to cry out with amazement at her moist tightness, their close fit like sword and sheathe. As their bodies began to writhe together with synchronous urgency, she clung onto him with an inexplicable desperation. Managing to grasp the sides of his head, she tilted his face so that their gazes met. She looked searchingly at him, not knowing why or what exactly she was seeking.
He opened his mouth to speak but she placed a trembling finger on his luscious lips. As tears clouded her vision so that his face swam before her, she whispered, “Just love me, don’t say it, just love me.”
She was here in this present moment with the Love of her life.
If there was a past tense to these feelings, she banished them from her mind.
Nothing else mattered.
Chapter Eight
Mistake
Her slap resounded over empty space.
His hand slowly reached up to touch the mark of anger that she had left on his flawless face.
“I wanted to know…to feel…what it was like to be loved,” Michael said in explanation.
Tears of rage ran down her cheeks and her voice was ugly, “And so you just deceive me and take his form to pretend to be him??”
Emotion was shaking her as if she was possessed.
“How could you make me believe you were him? How did you know what he was like? What he does when we are alone?”
“I told you, I have been watching you—and him. Before I took you.”
Ellen pronounced with venom, “I don’t know what to think of you. You kidnap me and then make love to me so…amazingly. You dump me on those…those things and then you rescue me and fill me with these…feelings. You sound sincere every time you call me your Beloved. Then you use your powers to totally deceive me.”
Then she spat, “I can’t stand you!”
She raised her hand to strike him again, her fury demanding an outlet. His strong hand caught her wrist. She winced, “Stop it, that hurts!”
He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her close, begging softly, “Beloved, if you’d only give us a chance—”
As she framed her lips to reject this, he seized them with a kiss as if this could pacify her.
How dare he? She thought indignantly.
“You will love me more than him,” he pronounced confidently.
And before she could do anything, he leapt up with a gigantic spring in his legs and still holding her tight, soared into the air. She felt momentary weightlessness and gulped with the sudden unbalance in her equilibrium. After reaching a dizzying height, he spread his wings to their maximum span to hover in the gentle currents of a balmy night.
With one powerful arm keeping her aloft, he swept the other unquestioningly up her thigh, pulling up her shift. Forgetting all sense of danger, she reacted violently by squirming away from him and kicking out her legs to scrape his shins. Hopelessly, she felt her vain attempts only served to excite him further as he crushed her closer to him.
She wanted to shout no, but instead let out a yearning cry as she felt him piercing her like a hot dragon’s head bursting into her cave.
With each exquisite penetrative stab, her resolve sapped from her as she was blinded by the sensory overload of this immolating seduction. And then he was rocking her body as they were in midair, moving her up and down the impressive length of his hard cock.
She couldn’t break free from him. His hold was too strong. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to. His face had the deep inward look of intense concentration as he made his inward journey. Flinging out her arms, one hand found purchase on one of his wings. Without thinking, she pulled out a handful of feathers.
Michael let loose a roar of pain and, in that one flash second when she for the first time had unbalanced him, she twisted herself from his g
rasp and then—
was falling—
falling—
falling.
The ground was so distant that it was a looming mouth of blackness below her.
Death was certain.
At last she was free.
Fear was clawing at the edges of her consciousness.
What will it be like to die like this?
Regret filled her.
She didn’t want to die. She still had so much left of life to live. These thoughts flashed through her mind almost at the speed of light.
A mace of wind smashed her from her left. The same clash of scents she had smelled on that night when she was abducted invaded her nose. She threw out her arms instinctively to keep him away.
Too late, he scooped her up and flew upwards, saving her from a death of being splattered on the hard rocks below.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his tone confused, slightly angry with a tinge of fright, “Why are you trying to stop me loving you as you should be loved?”
Almost crash-landing onto a branch of a tree, he pushed her against the trunk and muttered, “This is for your protection.”
He started tying one of her struggling wrists with a vine to a smaller branch. Pulling tight the unbreakable knot, he proceeded to tie her other wrist. He also managed to easily tie her flailing feet so that they were spread wide apart.
She hung, suspended upright in the tree, tautly spread-eagled. She heard him suck in his breath with admiration from behind her. He easily tore off her shift and made one aching stroke down her bare back. Sweat burst from the pores his trailing touch had torched.
“I shall never tire of ravishing you, Beloved,” he said. He reached one hand over her shoulder to provocatively caress one of her pert breasts in pulses. Then he proceeded to kiss the back and sides of her neck devouringly.
She did not know how he did it, but she felt a feathered tip of one of his wings flutter against her inner thighs before it pierced her. It was a soft, tickling impalement that increased her itching slickness. Her vagina begged desperately to be filled with something more substantial and satisfyingly hard. A laughing moan escaped from her lips as she convulsed against the vines tightly binding her.
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