Page 59 of Bred By the Minotaur
“They never tried to get us back. We wrote to them, hoping to hear from them, but they returned our letters. They didn’t want us.”
I don’t cry as I tell him this story. I think I’ve already shed all the tears I can, years and years ago. But still, I feel the stab that first time a letter came back, and I thought it must be a mistake until our foster dad explained what the stamp meant.
“I’m sorry,” is all Hank says. He tugs me into a hug, tucking my head under his chin. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe. No child deserves that.”
I shrug, saying nothing more. I don’t know how to put together all the words I feel about how inadequate I am, how woefully unprepared I am for the type of life Hank envisions.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” he says, rubbing his hand down to my shoulder. “You don’t have to say yes or no right now. But just... think about it.”
After a breath, I nod. “I can do that.”
I’m not ready yet to end this, but neither can I accept his offer. I need to sort myself out first.
I’m grateful when Hank doesn’t leave. He lowers his nose to my ear, nuzzling the shell of it with his lips.
“Can I persuade you?” he asks in a rough voice.
“Yes.”
He gently tugs me down to the bed in his arms, my back to his front so I can feel him getting hard under his jeans against my ass. He unbuttons my pants and pushes them down, his hand finding its way right to where it belongs.
Hank knows just how to touch me to rile me up and uses his powers with abandon. While he fingers me, he shoves down his jeans so they’re stuck on his hooves. He spreads the lips of my pussy, splaying them wide to make his way inside me easier.
I moan as he glides home, now that my body is well-trained to take his. His hand slides up my body, over my bra to my mouth, which he covers with his palm as he sinks in deep.
My cry is muffled, and the sensation of his palm clamped down on my face is so acutely erotic that I spasm around his cock. Hank grunts, panting as he remains seated inside me. He likes to hold me this way, completely speared on his cock, soaking in me before he starts to move again.
His hand mutes another cry as he pulls out and thrusts in again, all while he keeps my thigh held up. Now he’s fucking me relentlessly, sinking all the way in before yanking back out. I’m so close that I’m shuddering all over, but he maintains his rhythm, even and practiced.
“Yes, Phoebe,” he murmurs to me, lowering his head to rest his cheek against mine. “Let go for me. Drench me.”
I sob into his palm as I finally let it sweep through me. I’m a bird in a whirlwind, swirling around as Hank grunts behind me, and his cock fills me even more. One more firm thrust and he’s releasing everything he has to give.
We’re both reluctant to say goodbye after we’ve cleaned up. Hank kisses me on the nose, then trails his fingers through my hair.
“Rapunzel,” he says after a beat, tilting his head. “That’s what I called you the first time around. When you had Milo.”
I blink. “Huh? Why?”
“Your hair.” He pats my head, stroking it. “It was so long back then. But I like it short, too. You have the most beautiful hair.”
I don’t know what to make of that compliment as Hank releases me and gets up to leave.
“We have to tell him soon,” he says as he reaches the door. “I don’t want to rush you, Phoebe, but I think for Milo, we should make up our minds.”
I nod in understanding as he leaves, shutting it quietly behind him.
Hank
I was ravenous for Phoebe when I got home from work. I needed to have her, just like I have every moment of every day. Now, I’m hooked on her. Her smell is a drug, her pussy a salve on my soul, her moans and whimpers all the music I need.
But she’s struggling, I know. She feels like she’s responsible for everything, like the weight of the world rests on her shoulders. I wish I could show her that she doesn’t have to carry it alone, and we could conquer life easily if we were together.
Phoebe is willful, stubborn, and so full of heart when it comes to those she loves—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I hope I haven’t pushed her too much, but I do wonder what would happen if Phoebe left. As much as I’ve been certain I can convince her, I’m afraid of her hesitation and what it would mean for me and for Milo. He’s gotten attached to her, too, and it might break his heart if she left.
No. I won’t give up. Not when a perfect life with Phoebe as my wife is so close, so within reach.
