The Centaurs and the False Maiden (Monster MMMF Menage) (The Erotic Adventures of Heraklea Book 4) Read Free

under her tunic.
    Klea licked her lips and tried not to breathe harder. She took another swig of the wine; half-gone, now, and her head was beginning to swim. “I’m indebted to King Eurystheus, and he gave me the task,” she said. Arctos was slowly leaning closer to her.
    “Indebted for what?” asked Pholus, the blond one, watching Arctos’ fingers.
    Why hadn’t she thought ahead? The warm, dry fingers were tracing up and down her arm, from her neck to her elbow, the soothing, delicious feeling combining with the wine to make her feel a little like swooning.  
    “My father is Zeus,” she admitted. “And my parents wanted to marry me to someone I didn’t want to marry, so I ran away and this is my punishment.”
    “Marriage can be hard on young ladies,” said Chiron. His blue eyes flicked over her body. “Why didn’t you want to marry?”
    Klea looked up, tried to flutter her lashes at him. “I didn’t like the man they wanted me to marry. I couldn’t imagine—well, you know.”
    “Imagine what?” Arctos asked softly from behind her. Klea turned her head, realized his face was inches away from her own.
    “I couldn’t imagine,” she began, and his lips met her shoulder. He moved slowly up to her neck, his mouth slow and hot on her skin. “Lying with him,” she said in a rush. “I couldn’t imagine lying with him.”
    “Why not?” said Chiron. He put one hand on her knee. Had he moved closer? How had he moved without her seeing him do it? Klea put her wine goblet down, realizing it was now empty. She drew her leg away from Chiron, just a little, looked into his blue eyes. How much longer did she have to act?
    “He was old,” she said. That, at least, was the truth. “He was ugly. He had a belly.”
    Chiron slipped his hands between her knees again, and Arctos’ mouth was hot on her neck. From his cushion, Pholus just watched, sipping at his wine, blond hair and dappled fur gleaming in the firelight. Klea looked him in the eye and bit her lip, breathing faster. He didn’t react, just lowered his eyes to where Chiron’s hand was moving slowly up under her tunic, stroking over the crease where her thigh met her hip, moving the fabric up with his hand.
    “Oh,” she said, in the breathiest voice she could manage.
    “Will you have to marry him when you go back?” asked Arctos, his lips barely moving from her skin. His hand had moved to her side, stroking her from hip to ribs, just barely stroking the underside of her breast through the rough cloth. Chiron was slowly hiking up the bottom of her tunic, almost to the top of her thighs. With one hand, she grabbed it and pulled it down, over his hand lodged between her legs.
    “I don’t think so,” she said. “He took another bride.”
    “As lovely as you?” asked Chiron. He took her hand off of the bottom of her tunic and held it to his lips, moved to her forearm, the inside of her elbow. The wine and the firelight made every feeling seem amplified, even the tickle of his mouth against the inside of her arm, and she sighed. Lightly, she touched his shoulder. The muscles were rock hard and smooth, and she ran her hand down them as he went back to the hem of her tunic.
    Klea didn’t know how to answer that question. Was that the kind of question you were supposed to even answer? Chiron’s hand was back between her legs, centimeters from her throbbing cunt, and that was all she could think about.  
    Arctos had slid his hand to the front of her body, delicately tracing the outline of one nipple through the cloth of her tunic. Klea’s eyes closed, and almost involuntarily, she lifted her hips from the cushion. In one smooth motion, suddenly her tunic was around her waist and Chiron had one knee in each powerful hand, turning her body toward him, teasing her legs open. She looked at Arctos, upside down, his curls falling in front of his face.
    “She can’t be this lovely,” he said to Chiron, and slid his hands up her torso. He pinched her