CENTAURIAN
All Rights Reserved © 2022, Rick Haydn Horst
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
CHAPTER SIX
Released by the gods from its disconcerting doldrum, the wind continued its characteristic oceanic breeze, and when the captain gave the order for the ship to return to cruising speed, it rode the swells of the relatively calm waters at a fuel-saving twenty-two knots.
Since the entire incident with Kratos took less than sixty minutes, it left a few hours before the next work shift. Those who had awakened from their slumber tried to rest a little longer before morning, hoping they had seen the last of the overnight events.
As Emma, William, and Ronan, mounted the staircase, Liam, who trailed behind them, noticed a change on Ronan's back and seemed alarmed by it. "Ah, Ronan...were you aware you have a new tattoo?" Liam tapped its location in the center of his back just below the one that read STALLION.
"I do? What is it?"
"It's some kind of symbol about three inches tall and a bit less in width."
Emma and William paused on the next floor before continuing upward, so she could have a look.
"It's your mark," she said. "I meant to tell you about it, but I hadn't realized you would use your powers so soon."
"I have my phone," said William pulling it from his pocket. "I'll take a photo and show you."
"What does it mean?" asked Liam.
She traced it with her finger. "It's the astrological symbol for Chiron fused to a backward 'R' for Ronan," she said. "It marks upon his skin a visible sign of the permanent connection of Chiron to his former self. So, he could use it as a symbol for the name Ronan Stallion or for the Centaurian. William, dear, please send me a copy of that. I'll send it to Caleius for inclusion on Ronan's future clothing."
"It is an attractive design," said Ronan studying the image on the screen, "but I happen to know that someone invented this astrological symbol for Chiron in the twentieth century for a newly discovered orbiting body."
"That doesn't matter," she said. "It's just symbolic. If people refused to use a symbol due to its recent invention, no symbol would ever become old."
"This was your idea, wasn't it?" he asked her.
"Prometheus decided long ago using the power would result in a mark, but nothing distasteful, of course. Since I stay
au courant
[conversant] with life on Earth, its appearance and location he left to me. I put a lot of thought into it and considered assorted designs over the years, but I settled on this one due to the name of the orbiting body, and just as with you, it has a hybrid nature. Do you disapprove?"
Ronan shook his head. "I like it; it makes a great tattoo. While you're at it, let Caleius know that my Centaurian shirts need to leave my back unobstructed for my wings." He gazed upon Liam. "Regardless of my angelic appearance, I will use those when necessary."
"I can't say I blame you," he said. "They're too awesome to forgo. But now that you've used your power, why don't you just manifest your own clothing from now on?"
"I'm sure I could, but I'm not a designer. I would need a pattern to copy."
When Liam noticed Emma studying his eyes, he opened them wide to give her a better view.
"You must be absorbing Ambrosia in quantities that no one ever has," she said. "The gods are lucky to get a few glasses on Olympus. So, if you made a guess, how much do you think you're getting?"
Liam shrugged a little. "Two liters, maybe."
"Every day?" asked Emma.
"No, every time. So, six or seven liters a day, probably."
She gasped. "Oh, sweetie, I don't know what that will do to you."
"That's a lot of anything to put into your body," said William.
"It won't kill him," said Ronan.
"Well...no, it won't do that," she admitted.
"So far," said Liam, "it seems to make me leaner, more muscular, tan, and green-eyed." He shrugged. "Let's see what else it will do."
"Very well," she said, "that's up to you, but just know you've entered unknown territory."
They parted ways, and upon entry of their cabin, Ronan headed straight to the sink, not that he had an overly fastidious nature, but he had touched that foul-smelling god and wanted to remove any residue. As he stood there washing his hands of Kratos, he gazed into the mirror at himself and asked how he felt about having—in all honesty—executed him. He questioned whether he had made the right choice, but he hoped that having the knowledge of his ability to destroy a god would deter Zeus from further action, but he wasn't the sort to give up, and Ronan had a much greater vulnerability than his lack of buoyancy.
Liam had removed his clothing and kissed him the moment he emerged from the bathroom. Ronan held him in his arms, appreciating his ability to save himself from a long sojourn away from Liam at the bottom of the ocean.
Straddling Ronan's body on the bed, the head of Liam's cock lay on Ronan's lips. He kissed it repeatedly. Liam bent down kissing Ronan who moved back and forth between kissing Liam's lips and the head of his cock.
"I like you this big," said Ronan.
"If it were up to you, you'd have me leaving three trails in the sand, wouldn't you?"
Ronan's brows rose in interest. "At least three!"
"Oh, at least!" Liam laughed. "And preferably more, right?"
"Uh-huh." Ronan smiled, pulled Liam's face to his, and kissed him. "You never have to say it back to me, but I meant what I said to you earlier on the bridge. I do love you."
"I know. Would you really not want to hear me say it back?"
"A lot of people feel an expectation of having to say it in return when told they are loved. I know you prefer to avoid mushiness, so you never have to say it. To me, your actions practically yell it from the mountaintops."
Liam kissed him for several minutes and felt the heat on his back from Ronan's erect Centaurian appendage. Once they had begun having regular sex, it always leaked a stream of slippery precum when erect, making entry into Liam's body smooth and pleasurable.
They moved to Ronan's favorite position with Liam lying on his back, Ronan deep inside him, and Liam's cock in his mouth. He rubbed the head on Liam's hole, which had become nothing more than a port of entry to give Liam orgasms and fill him with Ambrosia.
The soft-coated steel bar of Ronan's cock began its long slide into Liam's interior world, a place to bond in waves of mutual pleasure. He fucked inch after inch deep inside Liam, giving him exactly what he needed, that stretched and full sensation.
Liam ran his hands over Ronan's impossibly muscular body, and he marveled over how it flexed as he thrust into him. He knew, if he wanted, Ronan could fuck him continually for a hundred years—one orgasm after another—and not make a dent on the sustained pleasure his body was capable of supplying. In all the universe, no one else like Ronan existed and his love came with a privilege that only he would ever know.
One inch. They had reached that last inch his body had trouble accepting, defying his wishes with its stubborn refusal to allow entry. Ronan never complained, but Liam wanted it all, so he could get that rough pelvis-to-ass banging he so often needed. The continuous pistoning, the thrust and pull of cock went on for fifteen minutes. Ronan lifted Liam's cock and bent to stuff the head into his mouth. Liam's would need to be even longer if Ronan were to perform that maneuver with greater ease, but the simultaneous suck and fuck had him on the verge of orgasm. He jacked his monstrosity into his lover's mouth and when he came, Ronan began to fill him. He allowed himself to savor the pleasurable waves of paroxysmal spasms that accompanied every jet of Ambrosia filling Liam's body. It went on and on, and Liam loved to watch him knowing he helped make it happen, and he could feel every surge of the magical liquid like the mild quake of a gasoline pump, filling Liam's tank with Ronan's nozzle deep inside him.
Lost in the sensation, Ronan kept slowly fucking a few inches in and out of Liam as he filled him, and when their usual stopping point—the fifteen-minute mark—came and went, it continued. Curious to know how long an orgasm Ronan could sustain, and how much Ambrosia he could hold, Liam allowed it. He had already reached the point of saturation and adding more had begun to supersaturate every cell in his body. When the twenty-minute mark came, and his belly felt like a balloon, he began to feel strange.
"Ronan," he said placing his hand on Ronan's chest, "you need to stop."
His eyes opened. "Okay." He laid his hand on Liam's belly. "Wow. How do you feel?"
"As content as a kitten with a belly full of cream. Don't pull out. May I sleep on you a bit before morning?"
"Of course." He pulled Liam to him and kissed him. He held him in place as he laid upon the bed with his sleepy man atop him fully impaled on his long nozzle.
As Liam slept, Ronan thought about what had happened with Kratos. As per his information, if Prometheus foresaw him dethroning Zeus and had kept vital information from him—or whatever may be the case—if necessary, he knew he would forgive him anything for bringing Liam into his life. There were things beyond price, especially the love of a good man.
In the darkness, Ronan concentrated and sensed the swirling imagery that accompanied his connection to Prometheus. The minutes slipped away, but he never had to ask his question, and he barely had time for an answer; morning would soon arrive.
"I know what you will ask, my son," he told Ronan. "The answer is not a simple yes or no. Have I seen you dethrone Zeus? The answer is yes, but I have told no one of this. What you have experienced, is someone manipulating both you and the future by lying in the present. Their lie has created a chain reaction that will result in Zeus's removal from the throne because he will give you no real choice but to remove him. I'm uncertain who has started this lie, but know this, having told it, doesn't necessarily make them your enemy. There are mitigating circumstances."
