Page 78 of The Minotaur's Valentine

“That’s one Mom-point. Let’s say we don’t break up... are you okay with me being what I am, a minotaur?”

“Yes!”

“Do you think that one day—if everything goes right—we could be... permanent?”

“Oh, yes.” Her words are choked out. I can feel wetness puddling on my tail as she leans forward, giving me better access to her pussy.

“Those are all points in your favor. Do you ever want a family?”

“Only with you?”

I stop using my tail inside her and replace it with two fingers. Libby has earned herself the best orgasm I can manage, short of breaking out the big hardware.

“Fuck! Fuck, yes!” Liubby squeals and bounces on my hand, cupcakes and clothing dilemmas forgotten.

“You were my dream girl. You turned into a reality and you made my reality a dream come true. Think about someone you love. Could you want anything better than that for them?”

Libby shakes her head, unable to make words.

After a few silent, breathless minutes of pounding her pussy while my tail flicks her clit, Libby falls forward over my arm, coming.

It’s all I can do not to plunge into her.

“I need to go get cleaned up. So do you. And then... you have to stay ten feet away from me until we get in the car,” Libby laughs. “I can’t resist you.”

I beam. “You’re going to fit in just great with my family, Lib. Trust me.”

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Libby

Milo’s mother is shorter than Milo and broader than his sister-in-law Selene (at least from the picture), but she still radiates size and beauty. She’s a minotaur goddess in a flowing royal blue dress and an acre of gold jewelry.

Milo’s dad is even bigger than his son, reminding me of a Sherman tank in a nice white button-down with jeans. While he is taller than his son, his horns are shorter and curved more steeply, and his fur is shaggier and darker. When I see him, two words that have never been connected in my brain meet up. Buffalo-teddy bear.

Rapid, affectionate Greek explodes around me as I’m hugged in a bosomy blue embrace, and then a barrel-chested hug that threatens to break my neck.

“Mom, Dad, this is Libby. Libby, these are my parents, Christos and Angelina.”

“Call us Angie and Chris,” Milo’s father says, pumping my arm so hard that I’m afraid it’ll come off in his hands.

“Nonsense! Call us Mom and Dad like Milo does! Those cupcakes smell divine, my darling! Libby, come with me to the kitchen and get them away from Christos. He has a sweet tooth the size of Brooklyn.”

I like this lady.

DINNER IS DELICIOUS. It starts with some rich golden broth that tastes like lemons and garlic and has tiny pasta floating in it. Then there’s a cheesy roasted eggplant thing that makes me moan with every bite. I feel like I’m being rude, but Angie is exchanging proud looks with her husband and chuckling softly, a delighted, musical sound that comes from deep in her chest.

“So. Hrm. Tell us about yourself, Libby. Do your parents know that you live in Pine Ridge? Well, that is to say, do they know Pine Ridge is so unique?” Mr. Angelakis asks. His voice is slower than Milo’s and even deeper with age, but instead of making me tremble with lust like Milo’s voice does, it makes me feel relaxed.

Until that question anyway. “Oh, no. They don’t. But mainly because my mom passed away and my father was never in the picture. But,” I hastily sip the red wine paired with the meal, “my mom would have loved Milo. He’s everything you could want in a boyfriend.”

Milo’s parents look grave.

“Oh, sweetie.” Mrs. Angelakis is up and embracing me, her blue sleeves billowing out behind her.

Mr. Angelakis says something in Greek and Milo shrugs. I have to learn Greek. But Mr. Angelakis—I mean, Chris, also rises and kisses me solemnly on the top of my head.

“You are in our family now, little one. Milo’s little queen.”

“Dad!” Milo puts his head in his hands.

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