Page 13 of Longing for the Minotaur
I nod.
“Fuuuuuck.” He rubs his face. “You should never have seen that. No, no, no.” He drops his head into his hands, and I worry I’ve severely messed up.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want you to even think about that!” He sits up abruptly and glares down at me. “Don’t ever, ever think about that, Valentina. That wasn’t about her, not ever.”
“How could it not be?” I ask. “You were… inside her.”
Banon groans miserably. “Yeah, I was. Fuck. I was. But…” He turns his head away, like he can’t look me in the eyes as he says what comes next. “It was always about you. About how much I wanted you. I’ve only slept with other women because I can’t haveyou!”
Words I could have never dreamed of, never imagined. Words that ripple through me, from my chest down to the emptiness between my legs.
Banon. The minotaur jock who’s been the subject of my fantasies for years, wants me.
Suddenly, I don’t just want to kiss him. I want to get on his lap and give us what we both want, what we both deserve. I need him to wrap those arms around me and tell me this all over again, that it’s for real and I don’t have to hide from how I feel anymore.
I want to know him. To learn him, without this wall between us. And then I want more, and more, and even more than that.
“I won’t ever think about it again,” I whisper to him, raising my hand to brush along his cheek. “If you give me something else to think about instead.”
His breath hitches. “You don’t mean?—”
“I do mean.”
Banon licks his lips, his eyes homing in on me. With his other hand, the one not trapped by mine, he skims down my shoulder to my side, then over my hip. There, he stops and grasps it tight.
“You don’t have any fucking idea what you do to me, do you?” He tilts his head. “No clue. This whole time.”
I shake my head, unable to utter a word.
“You make me crazy.” He shifts me closer to him, his neck bending further down so our faces are very close together. “And you felt the same way. All this time.”
His mouth is dangerously close to mine now. If we do this, we can’t go back. There’s no reversing it.
“All this time,” I agree.
When he finally kisses me, it’s rough. It’s rough and demanding and so ravenous that all I can do is cling onto him and go along for the ride.
I’ve never been kissed like this, as if he’s everywhere, surrounding me. He’s invading my mouth with years of pent-up need and unleashing all of it at once. I feel the dam break, too, and then I’m practically in his lap, our hands all over each other, our lips moving in a sensual, messy rhythm. He’s pulsing under me, his fingers everywhere, tracing the outline of my tits, the curve of my hips, cupping my ass. They dig in, squeezing me, and his mouth grows even more urgent and insistent. His hips buck up into me, and under my hands, I can feel his heart racing as fast as mine.
“Valentina,” he moans, and the sound of my name in that throaty, lusty voice makes me want to rip off my clothes and do unspeakable things to him. But we’re in public—in a park, no less—and we have things to do or the parents will get suspicious.
Reluctantly, I pull away, and we’re both gasping for air. Then Banon grabs my face in his hands and brings me in again,whirling me into a bruising kiss. Finally, he releases me, and he’s hard as a rock under his jeans.
“Heh,” he says as I stand up, and he follows me. His erection is tenting his pants in a noticeable manner. “You should walk in front of me for a while. So I can admire your ass.”
Hearing those words in Banon’s voice does something to me. My thighs clench, but I try to ignore it as we resume walking down the path. After a few minutes, he takes up step beside me again, and it looks like he’s mostly returned to normal.
I’m most surprised when he scoops up my hand in his much larger one, twining our fingers together. When I glance up, he’s smiling down at me, and now I don’t have to wonder anymore what it would feel like if he smiled at me that way.
When we get back home, it’s all hands on deck getting ready for Thanksgiving. We’re all in each other’s way, despite how we prepared and scheduled, because our little side quest took some time.
Banon finds an opportunity to glance his hand over my ass as we pass each other by the sink, and I nearly jump out of my skin. He winks as he goes by with the container of flour.
We take breaks while things cook, snacking on vegetables and ranch dressing. Marissa turns on some holiday music, and we take turns dancing along with it. Dad takes Marissa by the hand and twirls her around, making her giggle.
Banon glances at me like he would if he could.
