Page 54 of By the Horns
I can do this now, before I have the chance to talk myself out of it.
Sliding out from underneath the covers, I sit up and put my feet on the floor. After two quiet breaths, it’s obvious no one is waking up, so I tiptoe the short distance over to Raptor’s bed and kneel beside it. He’s enormous, his big body taking up so much space that the bed seems inadequate and downright uncomfortable for someone his size. Even the blanket doesn’t look sufficient.
I have no idea why that fascinates me so much. Why I can’t stop thinking about him. Why I increasingly search out his amused comments or his wry laughter. I can’t afford to have a crush on a fellow student. On anyone, really.
I tell myself that I shouldn’t be doing this, even as I reach for the blanket and peel it back, just a fraction.
A big hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. Raptor’s awake.
“You’ll get in trouble if you get caught, little bantam.”
Oh, I know that. But he’s not telling me not to touch him, either. I pull free from his grasp and give him my best saucy look. “So bequiet.”
The darkness hides his face, but he gives just the faintest huff that tells me he’s amused by my response. He releases my wrist and his hand goes to his stomach.
I could stop now. Or…not.
My hand goes under the blanket. I find the waist of his pants, the worn-out ones that he always sleeps in, with the patches on the knees. I walk my fingers along the band, giving him a moment to acclimate himself to my touch, and then slip my hand under the fabric.
Immediately, my knuckles brush against the hot, heavy head of his cock.
A gasp rises in my throat, and I bite down on my lip to keep it at bay. Quiet, I must stay quiet. I’d just forgotten how very large he is. My hand feels as if it’s being scorched just by proximity to his heat. I run my fingers along the head of him, unsurprised to feel that he’s dripping pre-cum already. How long has he been lying here, listening to me try to sleep? Or did he guess what was going through my mind? Whatever it is, I’m in this moment now, and I know what I want.
With my good hand, I tease his cock a little more, letting my fingertips lightly drag over his length, learning him again. It seems like he hasn’t forgotten that day in the hospital, and while I haven’t had it on my mind too much, I remember his knot more than anything. I curve my hand around the thick length of his shaft, stroking it. I’m going to need lubrication if I want to give him more than just a dry hand job.
I contemplate my options.
Giving him a dry hand job is the easiest, but I also want this to be memorable. I could finger myself until I’m wet and use that as a lubricant, but that might take a while and involve too much rustling of clothing. Plus, one of my hands is bandaged.
Actually…
Now that I think about it, I wrapped my hand again and reapplied salve just before bed. It’s still wet underneath the bandage because I applied far too much. Pulling my hand free, I ignore the slight shift of his body—I’m sure he’s wondering if I’m losing my nerve—and unwrap my injured hand. I run my fingers down my palm, getting a lot of the herbalsalve on my other hand, and then rub the two together. A moment later, my good one is back under the blankets, and this time when I grip him, my hand is slippery and glides over his shaft.
I hear him suck in a breath.
Reaching forward—because he’s so enormous that I’m having to stretch—I press the back of my injured hand to his muzzle to keep him quiet as I work his cock with my good hand. I start with long, firm strokes, until he’s so rigid that there’s absolutely no give to his cock. Once I’ve got him good and teased, I toy with his balls a little, and the hot ring of flesh at the base of his cock, before starting a quick pumping motion under the blanket.
The room is silent except for the occasional wet sound of my hand on his skin, and I glance over at the other two, who are fast asleep and oblivious. One of Hemmen’s ever-present books is over his face, and Arrod continues to snore. I fight the urge to laugh, especially when Raptor arches his hips, trying to rock into my grip. He’s got my other wrist now, holding me tight but careful not to touch my self-inflicted injuries. All the while, I jerk his cock with a bit of smug precision and my own arousal growing by the moment.
His muzzle goes to the back of my hand again, and the ring in his nose presses against my skin as he holds me tight. His hips lift again, and his tail swats against the side of the bed, far too loudly.
I work him harder, using my thumbnail against his knot to push him over the edge.
To Raptor’s credit, he doesn’t make a sound when he comes. There’s a wave of tension through his large body, and then heat spurts all over my hand. I continue to work him, dragging my fingers through the mess to milk everything he has. When he gives one last shudder and grips a handful of my hair, I know it’s time to pull away. I’ve made my point.
As I do, though, I drag my hand up his chest, making sure to leave a messy trail. It’s like I’m marking him as my territory, and I drag one cum-wet finger around one of his nipples, and I could swear he shudders all over again.
Then I give him a pat and get to my feet, picking up my bandage and heading quietly out of the room and toward the garderobe.
The moment I get into the hall, I run into Master Jay.
My eyes widen at the sight of him. “M-Master. It’s late.”
“It is. I’ve just returned from outside the city. Why are you up?” He eyes my hands, covered in an absolute mess, gripping my wadded bandage tight.
Oh, fuck me. I can’t think of anything except the mess on my hands that’s now more Taurian semen than salve. “Ah, my bandage came unwrapped in my sleep, and I made a mess with the salve while trying to fix it.”
He glances down at my hands, then at my flushed face, and grunts. “Are you going to be too injured to participate this week? We will be heading into the Everbelow soon, and I need everyone at their best.”
