Page 51 of Bred By the Minotaur
I bring her into my arms, and she winds her hands around my neck with a happy sigh.
There she is. The sweet, tender animal inside her. She clings to me like a leaf in the wind, her legs still trembling where they’re wrapped around my waist. It’s so marvelous to be with her again, to smell her scent, to feel her around me, to get to see her lovely face as I bring her pleasure.
My eyes feel tight, like my face is too small for them. It’s the way I felt when I saw Milo for the first time, when he was just a sobbing infant, coated in a thin layer of white and brown fur and wailing with his eyes squashed closed. Then he had opened them, and when those unusual blue irises looked up at me...
“Hank?” Phoebe asks in a small voice. She slides her hand down my cheek, up to my eye, and catches my tear with her fingertip. Her bow-shaped lips purse, and her brows tilt down.
“I’m just—” I wince at the crack in my voice. “I’m so glad I could look at you, Phoebe.”
Tears spring to her eyes, too, a moment before she buries her face in my neck.
“I’m so happy,” she says, though I can only make out half of it with her voice muffled. “It was... amazing.”
Slowly, I withdraw from her, because I want to hold her in my arms fully. My cum sloshes down her thigh onto the comforter, but I ignore it, curling one hand under her legs to bring her into my embrace. My hand brushes over her toes, and Phoebe shivers.
I pause, then return to her foot, sliding a hand down her ankle to her heel. She shivers again as I run my fingers over her toes, and she curls into me tighter.
“Sensitive?” I ask, tilting my head down to peer at her. She has such tiny feet compared to my big hooves, and they’re so fragile. I imagine they’re also sensitive when she has to wear shoes everywhere.
Phoebe nods as I run my fingers over her toes again. They’re dainty, but when they flex, I’m amazed by them. Soon I’m massaging her flesh and she’s making quiet, pleased sounds, snuggling even deeper into the fur of my chest. It won’t be too long before I’m hard again with her rubbing against me like that.
When I take her a second time, I lean back and rub her little feet while I fuck her, and she has to bite her hand to keep from crying out my name.
Phoebe
Damn, the man has moves.
Man, minotaur, whatever. But wow, the way his abs flex as he plunges that cock inside me, how his pecs go hard as bricks as he crouches over me, completely encircling me with his arms. His neck is so thick that I think it would take three of my hands to go all the way around it.
The way he speaks to me in that low voice, telling me how good I am, simply enjoying me? He’s a monster, and he’s mine. Right now, with my head resting on his big bicep, his gentle breaths ruffling my hair while my hands tangle in the fur at his chest, I think that for tonight, Hank can be mine.
Unfortunately, my watch buzzes at five in the morning so I can find my way back to my own bedroom before Milo wakes up. I don’t want to deal with the questions that might come if he found us curled up together, totally naked, in Hank’s bed.
Fuck, we’re going to have to deal with that. But maybe, just for a little while, we can hold this spark between us in our hands so only we can see it. If we were to tell Milo, that would invite all sorts of questions that I’m not ready to answer.
For now, for this tiny moment, I want to enjoy what I have.
By this time, I know the name of Milo’s teacher, and even some of his classmates. The goblin is used to seeing me, but whenever he says, “Milo, your nanny is here,” he quirks an eyebrow like he knows it’s not the whole truth.
Thank goodness the morning sickness passes quickly so I don’t have to worry about Milo asking more questions. But suddenly, I want nothing to do with half the food in the fridge. Everything smells bad except for fried chicken, and I make Milo and Sandra both come with me to get Crunchy’s frequently. We spread out a picnic blanket in Hank’s yard to enjoy the fading warm weather, and Sandra makes sure that Milo uses plenty of napkins on his greasy hands.
Unfortunately, it hasn’t been convenient yet for a repeat of the night Hank and I had together given our vastly different sleep schedules. But he promises that he’s swapping with someone else soon and will get a different shift for the next few weeks.
One of the other side effects of being pregnant: I’m ridiculously horny. It wasn’t like this last time, but somehow, being around Hank has cranked it up into overdrive. I definitely masturbated while he was at work last night, and I’ve been thinking about the sight of his bull cock ever since he made me come so hard I saw the afterlife.
And then, finally, we end up on the same schedule. As much as I love Imelda, dinner that night drags by. Then I run over to Sandra’s, where I try to act like I’m not in a rush, even though Hank is putting Milo to bed right now and soon, we’re going to be alone together. Again.
My sister has a funny look in her eye when I set out the meal I brought over.
“You seem... spritely,” she says, her lip quirking. “Something good happen?”
I try to school my expression, even though half of my brain is stuck on the prospect of seeing Hank naked later.
“Just thinking about work. My boss really liked the art I turned in today.”
Sandra totally doesn’t believe me—I can tell by her face—but she just says “Hmm” and finishes eating.
Imelda’s still there when I get back, even though Milo’s gone to bed. Hank shoots me a look while his mother talks about her latest book club book, and that look says everything. The moment we’re alone, he’s going to carry me up those stairs again, drop me onto that bed, and fuck me. And maybe tonight, he’ll fit all the way inside me.
