Page 61 of Simon

As I relaxed in his arms, my eyes closed, and then he blurted, “I-was-a-goat-when-Calliope-found-me.”

My eyes popped open, and I leaned back to stare into his eyes. There was shame written all over his face, then fear. He’d got me to relax and then dropped the biggest bomb I have ever heard.

The question was, did I care?

He was a goat?!

“What?”

“I tried to save Calliope. There was a potion; a pixie tried to rid her of the spell that the fae king had put on her, to keep her life happy. I wanted to save her from the pain it would release. I jumped in the way to block it. It got on me, and I passed out. I woke up and was—this.” He waved his hand down the length of his body.

Ten long seconds passed by. My hand still gripped his dick, as my head needed time to reboot.

Magic. It was what floated around in this realm. I tried to understand it, but even the witches at the palace said that magic was not always understandable. It grew; it evolved. Potions, spells, curses, hexes - they all sounded the same to me, and in my lifetime, I knew I would never understand.

“What kind of potion?” I whispered.

Simon gripped my thighs, his claws digging into my skin. “It was supposed to release curses.”

With that one line, I knew that Simon was never meant to be a goat.

Call it my gut intuition, but I knew it. I didn’t care if he lived his life as a goat; I cared about who he was now.

A potion that relieved curses? That meant he was a faunbeforehe was a goat. Did he not understand that?

“What do you mean ‘supposed to’?” I ran my hand up his shaft to relax his thoughts.

Hoe Lucy is here.

“Calliope was rid of her memory curse, but it turned me into a faun! It works differently on an animal.”

I giggled and ran my finger down his cheek. “Simon, I think you were always a faun.”

“I remember nothing else but being a goat—an animal.”

“Just because you were an animal does not mean it wouldn’t have the same effect on you.”

I didn’t understand how he couldn’t remember his life before he was a goat, but I knew that walking and talking wasn’t a new concept to him. He was learning way too fast.

His mouth opened to argue, but I leaned forward and did something so outrageous; I licked the head of his cock. Simon’s body shuddered beneath me when I held a firm grasp at the base.

“Fuck,” he breathed loudly and put his hand on my head. “Fuck, I can’t...”

I couldn’t fit the whole length inside my mouth. Instead, I concentrated on my tongue and swirled around the head. His claws scratched down my scalp and dug his fingers into my hair. His hips bucked him into my mouth.

Oh, this was so much better than reading and imagining it in my head.

Simon growled. “Suck me harder, mate.” I hummed into his cock, and he shouted a beastly snarl as the hot jets of his come slid down my throat.

I’d never tasted come, but I thought it would be salty and bitter. His was not. It tasted like the roots we had eaten earlier.

Like a damn good churro.

I definitely needed to write this down.

“Female,” he snarled and pulled me up by my hair. His hand, like a vice, tightly encircled my throat, constricting my airflow. I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin as he brought me closer, his lips crashing against mine with a feral intensity. His rough hands roamed my body, tugging at my clothing with an urgent hunger. “I want to sink my cock so deep inside you that you will not know your life before me.”

He pinned me to the ground with both my wrists with one hand. His cock was swollen and dripping from the cock head.

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