Page 74 of The Minotaur's Valentine

“Mmhm.” My Milo. She called me hers. I speed up. I have to mark my girl. My Libby. I have to make her come, I have to make her gush her hot, sweet nectar all over me. I want to be marked, too. “You want me to cum in you?”

“Oh, yeah. Yes. Soon, baby?”

“Oh, very soon. But only if you cum first. Only if you cum hard. Gush all over me.”

“Unnhgh.” A strangled noise escapes her lips, not one of pain, but I feel her muscles work against me, pushing out and down.

I smirk, closing my eyes and pushing up, swimming against the tide of her pleasure. This time I don’t stop to let her rest. I take her to the edge and don’t let her dangle. I send her over, waiting to catch her at the bottom.

Speaking of bottom... I grip her cheeks hard as she writhes back, and her clit, a furious red from all of her rubbing, glares at me like a beacon. My tail tip flips up and smacks it flush on the sensitive place where it joins her lips.

There’s a squeak, a harsh curse, and then her cum dots my muzzle and flows down my cock. Her thighs shake and she grabs my forearms as her head bows. “Milo. Milo. Milo!” My name on repeat, from her lips, a babble of desperation as the orgasm rocks her.

The milking of her muscles is more than I can resist. I made her come once, and I’ll make her come again later. Right now, I lose the battle, letting her go as my shoulders heave and my cock erupts.

“Ohh!” Libby’s breathless noise of surprise finds its way to my ears, even over my own loud cries. I don’t know why she’s surprised. She wanted me to cum.

Maybe she’s surprised by the volume.

It’s significant, even for me.

“Wow.” That’s all I can say.

Libby falls forward and rolls off of me, her leaking snatch a sight for my hungry eyes. My Libby. Full of me. As it should be. I strut internally.

But I don’t forget who turned me into a raging waterfall, who makes my heart happy. “You are my Pasiphae. My queen.” I whisper to Libby as I nuzzle into her ear, mindful of my horns.

“I’m... a queen? I’ve never been a queen before. Of anything,” she whispers back, eyes sparkling in surprise.

“You will always be my queen. You rule me, heart and soul. Body, too,” I add as an afterthought.

Libby curls against me, head on my chest, arm draped over the part she can reach, which isn’t enough to go all the way across.

My stomach growls.

Hers growls back.

“We have to do dinner.”

“And laundry.”

“I have to go to work.” I stroke her hair.

“I have to file my taxes.” She pouts.

Neither of us moves.

I forget all about the present in my duffle bag. Tonight is gift enough.

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Libby

It’s the weekend. I don’t have to do anything but hit the grocery store, cuddle up next to the big hunk of minotaur who curled back up beside me around two in the morning, and play with our cats.

Our cats.

And meet his parents.

“Oh my God!” I gasp and sit bolt upright.

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