Blooming Desire: An Extraordinary Spring Romance Collection

by S. J. Sanders

  He would destroy the centaur.

  Then she would be happy.

  And she would feed him. Somehow she knew this.

  He was so cute and cuddly. The idea that he’d take on A’pone was adorable. She found herself smiling and bit back a laugh. “Okay, that’s—”

  She stepped toward Murial just as a powerful gout of white-blue fire shot from the cat-bird’s jaws. The sizzling bolt narrowly missed A’pone and slammed into the rock cluster he ducked behind, melting away the stone at the center of the impact point.

  “Veronica!”

  Sparks and lightening flickered around the cat-bird’s muzzle as he banked sharply, giving chase.

  “Holy fuck! Murial!” she screamed, running forward to try to draw his attention away from the centaur.

  Unfortunately her ankle was in no shape to support her attempt to sprint to the centaur’s rescue. With a grunt of agony, she stumbled, grabbing for one of the trees to support her. At least she didn’t fall on her face, but it was embarrassing to seem so clumsy and helpless. He already thought she was damaged goods.

  Summoned by the call of his name, or in response to her pain, Murial banked on a wingtip and gave up his attack of A’pone. He flew to her with all the speed his mighty wings could muster. With a trumpet he dove for her and hovered at her side, paws reaching toward her until she tilted toward him. He latched onto her shoulder and pressed tightly against her neck and cheek. Once perched, he eyed her, and then bumped his head against her jaw, rumbling with soothing purrs.

  I should not kill him? he asked, skeptical.

  “No. That wouldn’t be a good idea. No killing.” She reached up and brushed her bound knuckle against his jaw. His head had features of both cat and dragon, a little longer in the muzzle than a cat and the whiskers were actually like the beard of the eastern dragons. Tentacle-like. It was really weird to watch them move and more unsettling when one wrapped around her finger.

  “Peace, cheroush,” A’pone said, holding his hands in the air as he warily stepped closer.

  Her body responded at the sight of him, yearning for his touch. Instead of separating his human appearance from the equine parts as she had the first time she’d seen him, this morning she viewed him differently. She saw him as a whole being. A centaur rather than a half man or a half beast. His horse anatomy was finely made and attractive.

  He wasn’t wearing his pack or sword and somehow it made him look naked.

  Vulnerable.

  The memory of his leg curled around hers tightened her belly. She admitted to herself how much she’d liked it.

  His hair was pulled back now and it looked wet. He’d removed the feathers and untied the braids, too. The bronze coronet was also absent. His features were drawn and she suspected it wasn’t just because he’d almost been disintegrated.

  She’d hurt him.

  She’d hurt herself, too.

  The cat-bird uttered a sound like a tea kettle boiling over on a hot grill. He hunched his body as flat as he could over Veronica’s shoulder. His tail coiled around her neck, squeezing. Golden claws extended from their sheaths and flexed, ready for attack. A twinkle of silvery light flickered from one nostril.

  Mine.

  “Murial, this is A’pone. He’s my…” Lover. “Friend. You are not to hurt him. Understand?”

  Murial’s claws extended a little more, and slitted eyes narrowed but no more sparks of energy escaped him. He no longer smells of you. The coward has scrubbed all evidence of your claim off himself. How dare he! Murial sounded disgusted with the other male. Are you quite certain you wouldn’t be better off without him? I can make it quick, painless, and untraceable.

  The tree found this all extremely amusing and its focus tuned in.

  Since Veronica didn’t know what washing off her scent signified, she tried to ignore the comment. The pang of sadness it evoked wasn’t so easily disregarded, though. So he didn’t want to smell like he’d had sex with her. That seemed reasonable.

  But it hurt.

  “A’pone didn’t abandon me.”

  A’pone’s eyebrows lifted. “No, I didn’t. I went to gather myself and make myself presentable.”

  Murial flattened his ears and hissed, sending glittering sparks from his fang-filled mouth. Presentable. Sss! He should have scrubbed harder.

  “This is Murial. I wasn’t expecting to find myself….” She motioned helplessly with her hand, not sure what term would be used for the multiple mind invasions.

  “Bound to a cheroush? Ah.” His brows drew together as he considered this and frowned. “You didn’t realize that inviting him onto your shoulder would encourage him to bind himself with you?”

  She wanted to scream but she was simply too tired, and sore, and frustrated. She needed a hot bath, room service and a massage with a mani-pedi. She suspected she wouldn’t be enjoying any of those things for a while. Instead she formed her words very carefully and whispered, “Of course I didn’t, A’pone. Funny, no one explained any of that to me.”

  “They are prized allies.”

  I am, crooned Murial.

  “They are intuitive and clever.”

  I. Am!

  “They are also very powerful mages.”

  Perhaps this centaur has uses aside from becoming fertilizer. Possibly a rug.

  “Yeah, that all sounds just great. A real shame I didn’t have an actual choice in the matter. Anyway, where’s the waterfall? I need to clean up.”

  A’pone’s lips tightened and he actually looked stricken for a moment. “Do you? I thought we could continue instead. I…”

  “Listen, you were quick to wash my stink off you, so it’s only fair if I freshen up, too.” She looked past him, toward the direction he’d come from. Murial sat up and fluffed out his wings, chin lifting into the air imperiously.

  A’pone’s wince said it all. That was exactly what he’d done. She was so glad the fluffy feather-tail was around her neck, hiding the mark he’d bitten into her skin. That, she couldn’t scrub away, but it wasn’t like it was a tattoo. It would heal and vanish with time. “Veronica…”

  “You don’t have to explain, A’pone. I’m sorry about last night. Cleaning up will just make things easier for us both. I can find my daughter and then you can go back to guardian’ing.”

  There was something haunted about his expression. A tightness around his eyes and an unhappy flatness to his normally plump, pink, kissable mouth. But he didn’t say anything and he didn’t follow her as she carefully limped her way to the falls. Murial was happy to guide her, flying ahead and showing off with fantastic aerial loops, dives and spins.

  Past a tight cluster of younger trees she found the falls. Water spilled from high bluffs into a crystal blue pool ringed by rocky outcroppings. The banks were thick with emerald moss and bright yellow and orange flowers.

  You like the centaur. It wasn’t a question.

  Tree agreed.

  They were all against her.

  “I do like him. Even though it couldn’t possibly work between us.”

  Both of the entities sharing her head space waited for her explanation. Instead of putting her fears into words, she imagined her thoughts. Different species. Different sizes. Different ages. Different worlds and cultures and expectations.

  “He called me cheroush you know,” she said, wiping at the tears that spilled down her cheeks unbidden.

  Murial’s ears perked with interest. That is high praise indeed. You heard what he said—prized allies, intuitive. clever. Very powerful mages. The cat-bird bared his sharp teeth and a couple sparkles flickered around his muzzle.

  “Not very modest, though.” She wondered if A’pone really saw her that way.

  Are you unhappy that I chose you? Murial asked, landing on a rock at the shore of the intricate cluster of springs.

  “I wish I would have been given a choice.” She looked down at herself and sighed. She was a mess. Her dress was filthy, her knees were scuffed and bright orange silk bound bo
th of her hands. The cloth reminded her of the care A’pone had taken to bind them. Veronica didn’t want to take it off.

  I couldn’t help myself. You have the Blessed Tree’s spirit in you and he called to me. She felt his apology and also his absolute delight in being with her. I will never let you go.

  Tree wasn’t sorry at all. I waited long eons for you, Chosen. An unspoken, deal with it, did not translate into actual words.

  She sat beside Murial and stroked a hand over his head, enjoying the plush softness of his pelt. “I guess that’s all right. Although, what the hell am I going to do with you back home?” She regarded the beast as he nuzzled her fingers, wrapping his whiskers around her wrists to secure her hand to his jaw to rub the spot. Waves of unfiltered affection spilled from him. He was way larger than a normal house cat; even the Maine Coon cat her administrative aide owned wasn’t this big. Or blue. Or feathered. Or tentacled.

  The reality was that needed to leave him behind along with A’pone and the tree.

  God, she was so fucked.

  5

  Spring Moon

  Once she was clean she returned to where she’d left A’pone. The reeds Murial found for her to soap herself left her skin feeling delightfully tingly. It left her smelling like a Thai salad; a blend of lemon grass, basil, and cilantro.

  A’pone leapt to his feet when she came into view. His gaze echoing the longing that swelled in her chest. She wanted to run to him and throw herself into his arms. The need to kiss the haunted expression off his face almost overwhelmed her. His gaze traveled over her, catching at her neck where he’d bitten her.

  God, that bite had been so hot.

  His tongue darted out, pinker than his full lips and she knew he was remembering it, too. Did he like the taste of her?

  She lifted her hand and covered the spot, wishing Murial had resumed his perch rather than flitting about, displaying his flying prowess.

  “Your hands.” A’pone’s voice was low and rough.

  She’d done her best but it wasn’t possible to keep them dry when she needed to get her whole body clean. “I’m sorry I messed up your work.”

  “It is my pleasure to serve you. Come, Te’acina.” He wore both sword and pack now and was already reaching into the later, pulling out his kit. A’pone withdrew more orange cloth and arranged the folded squares meticulously.

  While he removed the old binding and re-wrapped her from wrists to fingertips, Murial attempted to perch atop the decorative pommel of A’pone’s sword. With angry chitters he finally gave up the game and supervised them from a nearby tree branch while conducting a serious grooming session.

  The first time A’pone had done this, she’d had so many questions that she had not paid much attention to his actions. This time he had her full attention. Every touch was like foreplay. A slide of his thumb across her palm. The graze of his fingertips against the pulse point at her wrist. By the time her first hand was wrapped she was ready to throw herself at him and beg him to put her out of her misery.

  Because she ached for him.

  “I’m so sorry A’pone,” she said as he was just finishing the last twist of her bandages.

  He lifted his gaze, miss-matched eyes searched her face. “For?”

  “Using you last night.”

  For the first time that day he actually laughed. Unfortunately, there wasn’t humor in it. “You didn’t use me.”

  “I should have treated you better.”

  “You mean not cringing at my touch?”

  She sucked her lower lip between her teeth, the skin was still raw and sore from the previous night. “I’m not used to being intimate with a…non-human. You surprised me.” On impulse she reached forward and pressed her palm against his equine shoulder.

  His hot flesh shivered under her touch and he sucked in a sharp breath through bared teeth.

  “This is all new to me.” She ran her fingers through the fur of his equine shoulder to lower chest, enjoying the velvety plush texture of his pelt. “I should have explained that. We don’t have centaurs where I’m from. We have humans like me and then animals called horses that look like your lower half. They are not sentient and it’s criminal for humans to be intimate with them. I’m not making this any better, am I?”

  He covered her hand with his, pressing it there so she could feel the solid thump of his heart. “You are very different to me, too, twin legs.” He gazed at her as his walls came down, letting her see the self-loathing and shame. “I gave myself to you last night and surrendered my role as guardian only to shame myself by spilling my seed onto the earth.” His lips twisted into a thin line. “I am no better than a non-sentient beast. I understand why you would not accept me.”

  “What?”

  Tree was listening, displeased by this revelation. The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. Thank goodness it couldn’t launch a branch-spear at her from there. Could it?

  “I’ve sampled the pleasures of the flesh. I am no longer a virgin.”

  “That seems like a pretty strict rule. We didn’t even have intercourse. I didn’t even touch you.”

  “I filled you with my fingers.” He admitted in a low, throaty growl, “I tasted your essence. And, despite the lack of your touch, I still lost control of my lust. I released my spend into the dirt without even obtaining your permission.”

  “My permission?”

  “Yes,” he murmured, miserable. “Because you are my one. I know you reject my customs but it doesn’t change anything for me.” He tapped his fingers over the pulse she felt pounding in his human chest. “I feel it. You are my life partner. I would court you better if I knew how. I thought the cheroush would soften your heart toward me but I even blundered in that. I should have explained, but I thought he would be frightened away if I did. They are so rare and…in my tribe, it is a great honor to have one of them bond to you. The Ov’Eartha-human tribe are so…difficult.”

  He is still guardian, Tree stated with finality.

  And that was that.

  Good.

  What a stupid regulation.

  Reaching up, Veronica cupped his face, but for a moment his head remained turned from her. When she finally coaxed his attention back to her, his eyes were glassy with emotion. “Are you saying you’re not up for a challenge?”

  He held her gaze and blinked once as he processed her question.

  She brushed her thumb across his lower lip when his mouth opened but no words came out. “The Blessed Tree assures me that you remain the guardian and have not been released from your duties.” Her fingertips traced the sharp peaks of his cheekbones, savoring the exquisite texture of his skin.

  “As for spilling your seed, well, since you’re giving me the power over when you are allowed to release, I don’t have a problem with your actions last night. Consider it a well-earned reward after making me feel so fucking good.”

  “You’re not disgusted? Disappointed?”

  “Oh, no. I’m not.”

  And to assure him just how she felt about it, she stood on tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his oh-so pretty mouth.

  He gasped in surprise, his lips brushing hers and his breath teasing. An electric spark shot from their contact directly to her sex. After only a brief connection he jerked back, out of her range.

  “What was that for?” He asked, one hand lifting to press to the spot she’d kissed.

  “That’s a kiss. Your people don’t kiss?”

  His ears were so red the tips nearly glowed. “No. I mean, I don’t think so.” His eyebrows pinched together in serious thought. “I would have remembered.”

  “Humans do it to show affection and deepen intimacy,” she explained.

  The pupils of his eyes expanded as he focused on her lips. “Does this mean you feel this way about me?”

  She nodded and pulled his head down to her again. Her fingertips stroked over his hair and raked through the carefully bound tail at the nape of his neck. She did quick work on the leather t
ies, unfettering him. She slid both hands through the silken locks, grasping a handful at each temple.

  “I do as well. I feel so much for you. I want you to know how deeply.” He allowed her to draw him down and stepped closer so she was against his chest. This is how my tribe shows it.” He brushed his nose along her cheek from just under her eye down to her jaw. As he moved, his breath washed over her— warm grass, honey and that delicious, male scent, spice and earth.

  It was more than just the contact, slow and careful, as if the world had stopped just for them. It was the focus on her that made her clamp her thighs together with the blooming of her restless need.

  “Do you like it?” he whispered, lips grazing the corner of her mouth. His hand lifted to her head, stroking lightly through her tresses. His fingertips leisurely sank into the mass of waves and gathered a handful into his fist as he drew her even closer to him.

  “So much,” she answered, turning her head to catch his mouth with hers.

  His hearts beat with hers. Human heart. Equine heart. Centaur hearts. Pounding out the primal call of life and lust and need. She melted into him as he echoed her movements with his lips and tongue. His other hand slid around her body, supporting her as she sagged, knees going weak.

  “Veronica,” he growled into her mouth.

  Their tongues touched, withdrew and then twined together before her mouth captured his hungrily. She wasn’t sure if she was feasting from him or he from her, only knew that the taste of him intoxicated her and she couldn’t seem to get enough.

  His fingers spanning her lower back then dropped to her ass and he gripped her, lifting her into him. Her legs parted against him and without thinking she hugged her thigh around his powerful equine chest and rubbed herself against his lower abdomen muscless.