Remedy Maker

by Sheri Fredricks

  Heavy pressure built inside her. “I want . . . oh, oh, oh . . . to be partners with you. I can handle . . . oh gods . . . the job.” Her thighs quivered. The explosion of release was nearly upon her.

  The male’s cock grew larger, hitting her cervix with every stab forward. His width increased to such a size, it tore at her vaginal walls. Short, hard, uneven thrusts. Their mingled breaths were harsh and fast in the warm night air.

  The building spiral to end her interrogation peaked. He was deep within her.

  He switched his hold so his hands grasped her breasts, the fingers of one pinching her nipple, all the while his cock pistoned in and out of her. Moaning her pleasure, Pennelope let go of the wall with one hand and used it to cover his, where his palm held her breast.

  Oh my gods!

  Her mind screaming, Pennelope skimmed the top of his hand again to be sure. Sheer black horror swept through her. Looking down at the hand gripping her breast, relentlessly pounded from behind, the truth unveiled.

  Her future partner had no fingers on his left hand.

  Nubbs.

  Darkness had hidden him well, but she of all people should have recognized his voice.

  “Find something you like, Pennelope?” Nubbs laughed a tormented, cruel sound that brought awareness flooding back.

  Shoving in hard and deep, he grunted in cadence to the pulse of his spilling seed. The fingers of his good hand pulled at her nipple and her vagina answered with a firm clamp on his stiff cock; she was nearly there.

  Nubbs drove into her a few more times. Inside, her muscles milked him for all he had. The building pressure became unbearable, her traitorous body wept for release. She pushed back and rotated her hips, moaning for more.

  Masochistic in sound, his laugh rumbled out. He pushed her off him, and stepped away.

  Pennelope slowly straightened her tightly strung body and contemplated finishing the job herself. Unfulfilled sexually, she adjusted what was left of her torn skirt with shaky fingers. The blouse was in tatters across her shoulders.

  She turned to face Nubbs, unashamed he had fooled her, hoping she passed his deviant test. Cum trickled down the inside of her thigh and left its cold path behind.

  He strolled out into the moonlight and tucked in his shirt. After zipping his fly, he lit another fragrant smoke. She stepped from the dark outcropping and watched his icy eyes skim over her used body. The powerful set of his shoulders carried a commanding air of self-confidence.

  Glancing down, she winced. The once beautiful blouse hung shredded beneath her breast, exposing ivory flesh in the moonlight. Not opening her senses to his identity may have damned her slim chances. Caustic bile rose in her throat, threatening to expel in frustration.

  Pennelope needed every advantage she could get to claw her way to the top of Boronda’s underground dung heap. Tired of living under rocks like a common Troll for the past few centuries, she wanted to live in the comfort of the palace again. The place where I grew up.

  Nubbs took a long drag that briefly flared the glowing tip, inhaling smoke deep into his lungs. His eyes glowed with a savage inner fire and mesmerized her where she stood. He turned away, blowing out smoke.

  “Nubbs?” Pennelope stared after him, dancing shadows wreaking havoc with her sight.

  Embers glowed and sputtered out. He flicked his hand rolled burner and walked away. Before darkness completely devoured him, the results of her interview came in. He called arrogantly over his shoulder to her.

  “I’ll let you know my decision.”

  Twenty-Four

  Blissful agony.

  For the past three hours, Rhycious carried Patience on his equine back. His torture came from knowing her legs splayed wide and straddled him. Though she wore pants, her steamy core pressed his spine. Visions of her lying across the rope bed moaning, him feasting on her, continually taunted him.

  After traveling less than an hour through the dark forest, she’d begun to nod off. They rigged a way to strap her on to be sure she wouldn’t fall off. She wore his backpack, the adjustable waist strap clipped around both their torsos, effectually buckling her to him. His shoulder blades gently rocked her warm cheek as she rested on him, her breasts pressed into his back. He smoothed a hand down her thigh, concern overriding his lust.

  Poor thing was out cold.

  Rhy carefully picked his way around obstacles in his path, his mind searching for answers to what in the hell he was doing.

  Prolonging the inevitable, dumb-ass!

  He’d spoken the truth to Patience. He honestly wanted her with him. If he’d audibly continued his train of thought, he’d have told her how he needed her, and never wanted her to leave. To love him for the rest of their days.

  Thank Bacchus common sense came to his rescue.

  Instincts of survival rose when his log cabin came into view. Before venturing across the moonlit clearing, he paused in the shadows of the trees. Centuries of precautionary measures were more habit than routine. Scanning the area surrounding his cabin, he concentrated on the sounds of the forest. Crickets and frogs paid tribute to the gods and signaled the all clear.

  Careful not to jostle Patience, Rhy climbed the porch stairs quietly, keeping the clatter of his hooves to a minimum. Someone had placed a hand-woven basket on the wicker table near the front door. Venturing closer, he peered in. Apples, oat cookies, and a note inscribed with his name. He had a good idea who’d come by.

  Reaching above to the doorframe, he removed the spare key and unlocked the door. Gift basket in one hand, sexy sleeping goddess on his back, he took both into his home and softly closed the door with his back hoof.

  Rhycious set the basket on the kitchen table and headed to the stallroom. When Patience awoke in the morning, he wanted to be right there next to her—to see her beautiful eyes as they opened for the new day.

  Unbuckling the backpack was easy. Contorting his upper body to lay her down gently was not. Beneath her, air beads rustled, shifting to absorb and support her weight.

  “Rhy?”

  “Yeah, baby.” He drew the laces through her boots and removed her socks.

  “We home?”

  His heart turned over; a tide of emotions hit him like a punch in the solar plexus. Anywhere you are is home to me—always.

  “We’re finally home.” He stripped off her two shirts and camo pants, and tossed everything into the corner to pile on the floor.

  Patience lay on his bed—the middle of the bed—in her zebra striped bikini underwear and looked like a fucking wet dream. Her dusky nipples pebbled, begging his lips to taste.

  He flipped the covers over her and wiped his face with a grimy hand. “I’ll come to bed in a minute.” Gamóto, was that his voice sounding so rough?

  “Okidoki.”

  He stepped through the doorway, sounds of deep, slow breathing behind him. Not wanting anything between them for the short time they had left together, he couldn’t bring himself to close the door.

  In the kitchen, the handwritten note caught his eye. Rhycious recognized the flowing penmanship of Samuel Beiler. He scanned the contents of the note. Then read it slower a second time.

  Sonofabitch.

  English hunters, disguising themselves as writers researching local history, had come to Sam’s farm asking questions about forest dweller legends. Rhycious creased the paper in half and lay it aside. Good thing Sam stayed wary and loyal to the Centaur clans.

  In the township records, ownership of the Beiler farm dated back a century or so, showing the property handed down through the generations. If hunters wanted folklore, they’d come to the right place.

  His mind drifted to Patience’s sleeping form. Need to protect her slashed through him so hard, he gripped the counter to keep his body from going down. Gamóto! The need was more than I have to. His need ran along the lines of I’ll die if I lose her.

  Rhycious grabbed an apple out of Sam’s basket and bit into the fruit. The cabin’s frame creaked and popped, groaning like t
he old man it was. An owl hooted somewhere out front. Easy night breezes pushed pine branches around in harmonious synchronicity. Familiar household noises steadied his breathing and helped calm his nerves.

  Rustling bed sheets broke into his thoughts. He pictured his mostly nude pixie lying in his bed, waiting for him.

  Rhycious swallowed his food and nearly choked on the game his mind played with the implications. Patience waited for him. For him. How long would she wait for him? He wouldn’t allow himself the pleasure of dreaming the answer. True, his PTSD vacations were less frequent. But did that mean he had a handle on it, or could the next episode be the one he feared most?

  Finished with the apple, he tiptoed into the stallroom as quietly as his hooves allowed. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it to the corner. Their co-mingled pile brought a smile to his face and warmed his heart. Enjoy it now buddy, ‘cause it’ll never last.

  Patience slept curled on her side, the thin moonlight bright enough to outline her curvy shape under the blanket. It was a tricky job to crawl into a thick floor-bed in his equine body and not awaken the sleeping Nymph. In the quiet room, mattress beads rustled louder than four hooves on dry autumn leaves. His hind legs repeatedly wrapped up in the long hairs of his tail.

  Finally settled, Patience’s warm body in his arms and his forelegs tucked below her, Rhycious breathed deeply and closed his eyes. His forearm crossed over her chest, guarding her body. Together, they lay spooned in a perfect fit. Like it’s supposed to be.

  Fatigue rose in victorious slumber. Not until fuchsia colored streaks raced across the morning sky did he awaken again. Long, winding coils of Nymph hair trapped his arm. He remained still, barely breathing.

  Patience had turned during the night and her breath warmed the hollow of his throat. It’d only take a slight hip move to poke her awake.

  When the first ray broke the night, and light scourged the dark of the Boronda Forest, his buckskin hide receded, taking with it extra hind legs and a tail. He caressed her smooth back, sweeping his hand over her hips in broad, arousing strokes.

  Never had he held a female during transformation. The change from hooves to toes, and all the tactile textures in between, elevated a longing for future sunrises of the same. Plus it was erotic as hell.

  Patience stirred in his arms.

  “Morning, stud muffin.”

  Rhycious tucked her closer. Her lashes fluttered and breasts arched toward him as she pushed her arms overhead, stretching sleep from her body. Need pulled his lips to hers, as if tasting her would save his life.

  “Let’s make it a good morning, shall we?”

  With one swipe, he plucked her ridiculously small bikini off her bottom and pulled her body under him. When he had first met Patience, he thought her to be pale and skinny. He had recoiled in disgust at the Wood Nymph mark on her neck.

  The same mark he now kissed and nuzzled. Blinded with prejudice, he’d been no better than Khristos in the palace hall.

  Slight in stature, she bore his weight between her thighs and walked her heels up to the small of his back. A virgin days before, Patience was a quick study and a bold lover.

  A prize any honorable Centaur stallion would cherish. And fall in love with.

  Patience giggled, her fingers combing through his hair. “And how will we do that?”

  “By letting my rise . . . shine.” He slid his hands under her hips and raised her up to meet his thrust. The smooth entry revealed her readiness for him, of which he thanked the gods. Hot, wet, and tight, she hugged his length.

  “Ooh!” Patience’s eyes glazed over. Her inner muscles gripped his cock in warm welcome. He closed his eyes, afraid he’d frighten her when she saw how they’d rolled back in his head.

  For a moment, Rhycious held her without moving, allowing her body to adjust and himself to regain control. Slowly he thrust again, enjoying the sensation of utter bliss and contentment. Spirals of heat spread from where they connected, passing from him into her.

  Rhycious steadily increased his speed until he was pumping into her with an energized force. When her gasping escalated to a continuous moan, he snapped his eyes open to watch her fall apart beneath him. He doubled his efforts, groaning with strain, nearing his peak. Glancing down between them, he witnessed the beauty of his long shaft plunging in and out of her. Dark hair surrounding his hardness, her smooth skin received him.

  Cupping her breast, he kissed and laved her nipple, giving it a few hard sucks. “I lose myself over needing you,” he whispered.

  Her breath came hard, but she managed to choke out, “You probably say that . . . to all the females.”

  I only wish that were true. “Just you,” he panted. “This is nothing like I’ve ever felt before.”

  “I’m confuzzled with your understandwich.”

  It means the bog is quickly sucking me under—and I love every moment of it.

  His lower half had taken over thinking for his upper half, making it impossible for him to comment. Long, slow assaults became quick and hard, driving her body deeper into the air bead mattress.

  Patience moaned loudly with each powerful stroke. “Uh, uh, ohh . . . .”

  His senses staggered. Utterly consumed with desire for her, fever licked through his body.

  Large and liquid, her eyes burned with mutual abandon. Cries of her pleasure and the push of her hips matched him, thrust for thrust. Squeezed by her inner muscles pulsating in ecstasy, he topped the crest of the mountain.

  Unable to hold back, Rhycious gathered Patience close to his heart and shouted her name, flooding her with his love. Each squeeze of her orgasm tightened like a heavenly fist around his cock. Her quivers continued until she relaxed beneath him, having taken all he could give.

  Except for the part of me I can’t give her. Patience deserves better.

  Afterward, they lingered between love-scented sheets. Restless energy buzzed, stinging him in the ass until he rolled out of bed, unable to lie there any longer. Her languid turquoise eyes roamed the length of him, lingering on the in-between places. Satisfaction hummed throughout his entire body.

  He grabbed his royal arm cuff and a clean pair of running shorts from the dresser, sliding them both on. “Lounge in bed, polytima. This day belongs to you, and your healing.” He finger combed the hair away from his eyes. “I’ll heat some water for your bath.”

  “Ooh, that sounds deliciofied.” She rolled onto her side and stretched like a cat, smiling as if she’d drunk the whole bowl of cream.

  And didn’t that just make him want to tilt his head back and howl.

  In the kitchen, he stoked the fire in the black iron stove. Then he used hot pads to lift the boiling stockpot off the burner. One day, he’d buy a generator and wire his house for electricity.

  Duck walking the huge pot into the bathroom, he jammed the rubber stopper in the old-fashioned tub, and dumped-in the heated contents. Updraft steam rose in a billowed cloud of mist. He twisted the chrome lever with a squeak. Clear, cold water from the gravity fed cistern flowed out.

  Pot in hand, Rhycious ducked into the stallroom. “Wakey-wakey. Your bath’s about ready. After you’ve cleaned up, we’ll have something to eat.”

  “I’m all over that program.” With an enthusiasm matched only by her grin, a very naked Patience bounded out of bed and followed him into bathroom.

  On the other hand, to hell with the bath. Centaur willpower blessed him with the control to keep his itchy, wandering hands to himself. Mr. Happy disagreed.

  “I’ll heat more water.” He pressed a kiss near her brow while she eyed the steaming tub. “Back in minute.”

  Rhycious whistled, waiting for the water to heat. Having your pipes cleaned can do that to a guy. I’m doomed—the pixie has me wrapped around her finger tighter than a man in bondage. Rhy shook his head at his terrible metaphor.

  Still, the image did conjure some interesting possibilities that had him chuckling.

  “What are you smiling about?” Patience sat
in the tub. Her long legs stretched out in front, hair piled up on her head and held in place by his screwdriver again.

  Rhy unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Buckles and straps.” All that bare flesh glistened in clear steamy water. Pebbled nipples floated. The hard little nubs just dared him to take a bite. He swallowed hard. “More hot water?”

  “Wash my back?”

  “Only if you’ll wash mine.”

  “Alrighteous.” Naughty Nymph flashed a sexy grin.

  Thank Bacchus’ horn—or was it Pan’s?—he had shorts on, because the sound barrier broke in his haste to join her. His legs straddled her slim hips from behind. With both of them in the tub, the warm water rode high on the rim.

  He swirled a bar of soap over the wet washcloth and rubbed her back; each crowned vertebrae received special attention. Not wanting to neglect her other delectable body parts, he reached around to personally hand wash the front of her as well.

  Very well.

  Patience let out a moan and it shot straight to his crotch, lifting more than his temperature in the warm water. Wayward tendrils curled in ebony ribbons around her face and neck. Unable to stand the rub of her ass on the underside of his stiff cock any longer, he rearranged their positions.

  She knelt with her hands braced on the tub’s rim, her lovely, heart-shaped rump in the air. Rhycious mounted her as a stallion and rained kisses across the back of her neck, nibbling and biting her bark coloration.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  Patience shook her head. “You make my bottle pop, that’s all I know.”

  Rhycious plunged in and out of her, water sloshing over the side of the tub, his single-track mind delirious with need. The moment she clenched around him, crying out her orgasm, his body released and spilled. Soft, slippery skin beneath his hands, her shuddering ass pushed flush against his thighs.

  Such a shame to pull out of his sanctuary when all he really wanted was to keep himself wrapped up by Patience.