By the Horns Page 12

  I’d just fucked a Minotaur, my Minotaur, as I’d started to think of him, and I was going to continue to do so until he agreed to take me with him, and probably long after.

  I was just about to heft myself up when a hand at my back, sliding up my spine, entreated me to stay. He was thickening again, pulling out to lazily pump back inside me until his cock was once more hard as a rock.

  My body was still sensitive from my recent orgasm, the tender flesh clenching around him in reaction.

  A hand slid around to my belly button, delving lower. His fingers found my clit and he flicked it once, twice, a hungry moan that had my skin prickling, doing naughty things to my insides, rumbling my back. I should be saying no. My core screamed, hell yes!

  “I wish you again,” he mumbled into my skin, pausing long enough for me to press back against him, the only sign of consent he needed, and the dance started up all over again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A fine buzz filled my head, a post orgasm euphoria, though I couldn’t recall it ever lasting this long. We’d fucked for far too long, one row after another, until I couldn’t take anymore.

  When my bull companion finally slipped free, his cock too soft for my body to hold him any longer, he pulled back.

  My legs felt limp as noodles, as evidenced when I tried to step away from the pedestal and promptly tumbled to my ass.

  The action sent dust kicking up around me, an occurrence I’d grown used to quite fast, considering. My head swam but in the most pleasant of ways. My sex was throbbing, his semen running down my legs, dripping from my core, my body sticky with it. I was a half a foot away from the puddle he’d left under the pedestal. I was one wrong angled fall away from having plopped down into the middle of that.

  Attempting to stand, I shook my head. First things first, sensibilities aside, I needed to piss.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” my horned lover admonished. A tall shadow fell over me, lean hips, strong, corded muscles running down thick thighs. My gaze paused at his cock but didn’t linger, moving on to his hands and forearms, thick biceps capable of lifting heavy objects.

  Maybe he could even lift me. I was no lightweight, knowing I wasn’t the kind of bride built to be carted over the threshold, but as a little girl I’d been romantic and for a while it’d been all I’d dreamed about.

  “I wish to... relieve myself, then wash.” My face flushed in embarrassment at my blurted admission but I ignored it.

  My bull watched me with assessing eyes.

  Holding my hands up as proof, ignoring my daggers for the moment, so close I could reach out and grasp them, I waggled my fingers at him, squinting in the lights embedded in the ceiling.

  “You’re in need of assistance.” I couldn’t tell if he was teasing, asking the question, or telling me.

  He answered it for me when he bent down and scooped me up, ignoring my shocked gasp, to tote me over to a small area off in the far corner, a pit of a hole with a smaller hole in it and water swirling inside it by some invisible force, quietly circling the drain.

  Face redder than a tomato, I waited until he snorted a laugh and walked a ways away before tending to my needs.

  When I’d finished and waddled away and he’d had his turn he lifted me once again. I didn’t even protest this time. With a funny clicking sound he made with his teeth, he toted me to the water on the far end of the cavern.

  “Oh, couldn’t we just-”

  “No.” His tone brooked no argument. He spoke like he was used to being in charge, but something in his expression softened at my scowl. “This is to be the way of it,” he said in way of explanation.

  My hands went to his nape, where I buried them in the short scruff I found there. His shoulders rolled, neck moving this way and that as if he enjoyed my touch.

  “Thank you.” When he looked to me questioningly I smiled. He looked startled but glanced away, but not before I caught that quick look on his face. Shame? Guilt? Strange, I thought. Was it my weight? “I’m not too heavy, am I?”

  His snort had my eyebrows shooting up. “You’re round but you’re not filled with stones. Tauran females are at least twice your size, possibly heavier. Compared to my kind, you’re small.”

  My face flamed in embarrassment as he pointed out the obvious. It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but there it was. You’re round. Egad.

  “You’re tense.” His heavy brow furrowed, maroon eyes sliding from the water to my sex. “Are you...” he paused, grimacing, “are you injured?”

  “Injured?” Frowning one moment, brow popping right back up the next, I blinked, following his gaze, and shook my head.

  “I was rough,” he admitted gruffly. “It was not... It is not my way.” His eyes strayed towards the pedestal, then the lip of the passageway I’d used to get in here. The way he said it implied he had no clue why he’d felt the need to fuck me within an inch of my life, either.

  Unlike me, he almost sounded contrite.

  If possible, I stiffened up more.

  We’d reached the small pond when I remembered, “I have soap in my bag. I-”

  “You will go in the water, and I shall retrieve it,” he offered, hastily setting me down along the water’s edge to turn on his heel and charge up the way, headed right for my pack.

  “O- Oop.” Down like a bundle of bricks I went. My legs collapsed and I flopped to the sand. Thinking of all the places sand had a tendency to creep, I carefully pulled myself up onto my knees.

  Awkward didn’t even begin to describe this... well, whatever it was. Moments after sex oddness? Minotaur regrets? I just fucked a human, what was I thinking? Who knew what was going through that mind. He didn’t strike me as the sharing type.

  Just great. Exactly what I needed.

  With a shrug and a long, tired sigh, I wiggled my way out of what was left of that stupid dress. Leaving it on the beach-like black sand to rot for all that I cared, slowly standing, my feet sinking into the dark sand, my toes wiggling in it, I made my way carefully into the water.

  ˜˙˜*˜˙˜

  Undoing my braid, tossing the tie towards dry sand, I shook the wavy length out. It was getting long, longer than seemed suitable. It was more an aesthetic thing than functional, my one true fit of vanity. I’d been told a time or two I had pretty enough hair. It was soft and silky when just washed. I had a horrible habit of running my fingers through it if it wasn’t tied back.

  Shaking my lengthy mane out, I smiled, bending to cup water and pour it over my head. The water was just below my belly button, my back to the Minotaur so he didn’t have to see my boxy body in all its unhindered, rounded glory. Mostly, I hoped he’d spare me any further comments about my person.

  So perhaps he didn’t find me entirely to his tastes. The sex was, well, I was surprised by the sex. Being with him in that sense would be no hardship. So long as he didn’t speak...

  The water was warm, much warmer than I expected. Tiny flecks twinkled along the bottom, bits of purple and green.

  Sinking down to my neck, I took a deep breath and ducked under, scrubbing my face under the water until my skin didn’t feel tight. Popping back up, I pushed my hair away from my face, slicking it back.

  Movement caught my eye, a flash of white. Swiping at my eyes, I found the Tauran pacing along the water’s edge. He had my bag in hand, his gaze alternating between the edge of my entrance to the cave, then back to me.

  “I’ll get you out of here,” I said casually.

  When he grunted and his head snapped up, I smiled and shrugged. Glancing away, I continued to cup water, pouring it over myself. Nudity? What? Oh no, I haven’t a care in the world, trah-lah-lah.

  My beast lover sure did seem anxious enough, though, pacing along the sandy bank.

  “You’ll have to take me with you, of course,” I added steadily, without missing a beat. I was pretending, wearing a pleasant mask. On the inside I felt like I was dying. He hadn’t necessarily outright rejected me, simply stated
a fact, I’m round and small, unlike his kind, he didn’t know why he’d done what he did, and to me seemed confused as to how he felt about it. The beast was neither putting me down nor building me up. Yet it ate at me. He was harboring more than regrets. What? I’d no clue. But I just knew there was something else.

  When I dared to peek at the beast I found him scowling into my pack. The soap was already there, clutched in his right hand, the side of the bag pinched in his grasp to hold it open.

  “What’s-”

  The Minotaur pulled the neatly folded, bloody handkerchief I’d discreetly stowed away, shoving it down the side. Lifting it up, he gave the dirty piece of cloth a sniff.

  “It’s my blood.”

  My borrowed trousers came out next. Dropping the pack to his feet, he shook the brown pants out.

  “Also mine.” Holding my hand out for the soap, my lips pursed. Nosy, rifling through my things. I highly doubted he’d be so calm about it, should I have done the same to him.

  Truth be told, I was enjoying his fit of pique. If I didn’t know better I’d say he was jealous. Strange, and after he’d basically said he regretted our little, well, not so little, bout of moments ago.

  At his questioning look I smirked, gesturing towards my tattered gown. “You didn’t really expect me to go wandering around stuffed into that bloody thing, did you? It’s little more than scarves sewn together.”

  “These aren’t yours.”

  “Of course they’re not. I borrowed them from a... friend. Now,” my fingers wiggled, “my soap, please.”

  Nostrils flared, his jaw tightened. Someone didn’t like my answer.

  Ducking down until the water was just above my lips, hiding my expression, I floated along, arms working, legs moving, and waited. My hair floated around me, preserving what little modesty I had left. The water clear enough to see straight to the bottom, I held no delusions he couldn’t see all of me, should he so choose.

  Plopping to the sand, he chucked the grey lump of soap at me, ignoring my startled squawk as it fell in, starting to sink, and I had to scramble after it.

  I was still cursing a blue streak when I heard it. My head whipped towards the sand to find it empty but for my sack and a large pair of boots. Just about to turn around in search of my missing bully, I squealed as strong hands gripped my waist, lifting me up out of the water, and I was swung around.

  Momentarily airborne, I screamed, shouting the roof down, cursing the wild beast turning me this way and that, despite my struggles, until I was facing him.

  “Brute,” I shouted, pounding on his chest as he held me to him tight. “You wild brute!”

  Gripping an ass cheek in one meaty hand, he held the soap out to me with the other. His expression was perfectly neutral, not a trace of envy for the pants I borrowed from Thess or the bloody kerchief.

  When I went to reach for the soap he dipped it in the water, ignoring my huffing chuff. Squirming, I managed to wriggle loose, but not before I’d rubbed up on him and he’d grown nice and stiff.

  Fat erection bobbing along in the water, he stood there watching as I floated backwards, headed for the stone wall the water poured from.

  “You will lead me out,” he commanded, advancing on me swiftly. By the time my back hit the wall and I went to stand he was right there, pressing himself right up against me.

  “I said I would,” I argued, water slipping down my back. Stony look firmly in place, I pushed off and reached out to grip the end of the soap in his wide palm, his thick fingers curled around it digging into the speckled, grey lump.

  He didn’t see fit to let go, so I rubbed my hands all over it, and those massive digits of his, pulling away to rub the soap I’d gathered over my person. I started at my neck, then my chest, taking my time as he stood there, towering over me, and quietly watched. My hands came away soapy, tinted w pink from the dried blood I’d scrubbed away. His eyes were narrowed, an odd tint what bits I could make out from the tiny slits he peered at me from.

  “You have to take me with you,” I murmured, reaching up to cup a breast in each hand, circling my nipples. Smiling softly while he watched, I gave each a squeeze, rolling one nipple and then the other before letting go. They swayed with the motion, thrust out, nipples tight little buds. My companion made a needy sound in his throat, the noise part bull, all hungry male. “You like this? Want me?”

  The bull man actually gave a small, barely perceptible nod, swallowing audibly.

  “Want all of me? For as long as you like?” My hands slid to my belly, then lower.

  Another nod. He licked his lips.

  His slits for eyes were starting to look a little glassy, which had me pausing to watch him. There was mesmerized, and then there was whatever was going on with him. Frowning, my eyes went to the water. Had his irises taken on a purple hue? And another thought hit me. It was rather strange, my aches and pains washing away in the water. I looked to my companion.

  His eyes had never left my chest.

  Strange, and growing more curious by the minute. I studied the male a moment longer.

  My hand lifted and I snapped my fingers in front of his face. He finally blinked. “Have I lost you, handsome?” I murmured.

  A grunt. Another hungry noise.

  Again my gaze fell to the water. I couldn’t help this funny feeling in the pit of my gut.

  “Take me with you,” I whispered, letting my hands fall to reach out for him. Sliding over his thickness, my fingers wrapped around his shaft.

  My hand formed a loose fist, pumping his fat cock until he groaned. The second I stopped his eyes popped open and his chin dipped. Maroon swirling purple eyes narrowed on me.

  “I’ll lead you out of here,” I promised, “but you have to take me with you.”

  “Whose pants are those?” His voice was deep and gravelly, heavy with desire and something else.

  “Mine. Does it matter?”

  When I would have pumped his shaft again he pried my fingers loose and shoved them away, though he looked pained to do so. Pressing into me until I was backed up against the wall once more, the stones biting into my back, steam slowly seeping from his nostrils, his eyes bled red with deep violet, pupils expanding right before my eyes, until they changed colors entirely. Red darkened, mixed with blue, lightened, swirling with silver, before settling on purple. Deep, glowing purple eyes stared into mine wildly.

  A deep, hissing snarl rent the air.

  “Your eyes look funny,” I blurted.

  His lips pulled back in a snarl and he growled out fiercely, “A name. I’ll have a name, human.”

  “Whuuuu-uh?” My eyes widened, lips parting. What on Tsiamuun was he-

  “A name!” he roared. His voice was off, the tone, cadence, my Minotaur lover wasn’t exactly himself in more than one sense of the word. “Who has touched your flesh before me, woman?”

  I could feel it, an extra sense.

  “Uhm, George,” I lied, blurting the first thing that popped into my mind off the top of my head—George, the local baker—staring up at him blankly.

  A tremor wracked my frame when thick fingers went for my neck. A shocked gasp left me, my hands going up to my throat protectively, cupping his hand and tugging at it to stop him, but those long fingers, trembling as if fighting the impulse, never entirely closed over my throat.

  “You thought to cuckold your mate, but you won’t me.” The words were hissed between clenched teeth. The fingers pressing into my nape gripped my neck hard enough to make me call out, pulling me back to slam me against the stones.

  I went sliding, until I was right underneath a heavy cascade of water.

  A sharp cry ripped from my throat and I screamed, scrabbling to breathe with a hand at my throat and water tumbling from the stones in a miniature waterfall drenching me.

  “He-help!” I yelped, gagging, forced to swallow the funny tasting water. Water splashed about everywhere, my arms flapping the top of the water, aiming right for the Minotaur’s face. “Hel-
help!”

  “Drink up. Come to me, my queen. Let us play.”

  “Wh-a-at?!” My cries were useless, but I tried anyway. The harder I called out, the more water I ended up swallowing.

  Just when I didn’t think I could handle anymore I heard it—heard her. Everything inside me relaxed against my will, until I felt myself slowly slipping inside the metaphorical third pew in my mind.

  “Peacock?” A trilling laugh spilled from my throat. But that couldn’t be right, I hadn’t said anything! “Oh, Puck-nacious, she calls you Peacock! Oh- And, ugh, get your hands off of me. Really? The jealousy game? What do you think me, some common peasant?” A hand slapped at a white-furred wrist. I was giddy, I was gay, I was filled with the hot shivers for the idiot who’d obviously taken over my beast lover’s body. Some other person was playing house inside of me against my will—the queen was in residence. But how?

  My Minotaur paused, staring down at me. “M-my queen?”

  “Thessen, you dolt. Tell that grumbling buffalo you’ve chosen to drown to inhabit, to please your queen, the borrowed pants are from some Thessen. The one she gave her sister to. Not that the beast seems to actually care. A male with the right of it, if you ask me. The way you were carrying on,” she tsked, “you’d think you were the one jealous over her former lover. Hah! Now you quit fussing, I can sense him struggling in there. They’ve formed a connection. They’re bound. Now,” her lips pursed, slipping into a smirk, “he agreed when he accepted our aid, same as the girl. So tell him to shut it, he’s had his fun.” A wicked gleam lit her eyes and she reached out, gripping the hair on his chest to give the fur a vicious yank. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “Oh?” A dazzling smile that didn’t fit my beast at all lit his features. That smile was exactly how I’d pictured it on the confident Peacock, the Queen’s Puck.