Page 287 of Mayhem and Minnie

It’s all too…neat.

And I can’t help but feel that we’re missing something.

Who wrote those letters and what was their goal? We don’t even know that.

But I can’t say anything to Minnie now since I don’t want to ruin her moment of happiness. I’ll have to find a later time to broach the subject and suggest we tread carefully—that this might be a trap.

I dry my hair with a towel after a long-awaited shower and place my clothes on a chair to dry for tomorrow.

As I take off the towel from around my waist to climb into bed, Minnie suddenly stops me.

Her eyes flare with shock as she slowly takes in my body.

She releases another squeak, but this one imbued with her maidenly outrage.

“Yo-you aren’t wearing clothes.”

“Fine of you to notice,” I reply drily.

I’m still wearing my underwear, though it’s only semi-dry. Her maidenly sensibilities should thank me for that since I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by sleeping in the nude.

“Uhm…” she murmurs as she stares at my dick. She wiggles to the edge of the bed, rolling on her belly until her face is almost at the same level with my crotch.

Fucking hell.

“Soon. I’ll see you soon,” she whispers to my dick as she gives it a small poke. Then she giggles.

“What the—” I startle.

She smiles lazily, her attention still fixed on my dick.

“Look, Marlowe. It knows we’re going to mate soon, too,” she exclaims as she points to my rapidly hardening cock. “It’s so big, too.” She gasps. “You’re going to break me in two, aren’t you?” she coos at it.

Of all the things she could have said…

Jesus Christ, this woman is going to be the death of me. Now I won’t be able to stop thinking about shoving my cock into her cunt so hard, she’ll scream in both pain and pleasure as she stains my shaft with her virgin blood.

“Minnie.” I take a deep breath. “Go shower.”

“But I’m too happy. And this is exciting,” she says as she tries to touch my dick again.

Oh yes, something is excited all right. Perhaps overly excited might be the term.

It’s official. I require sainthood. I’m performing a miracle right here and now by not spreading her legs and breaking her in half just as she wanted. Hell, with how close her mouth is to my crotch, I’m surprised my dick isn’t already down her throat.

See? Saint material.

Saint Marlowe of the Hard Cock.

I berate myself for my stupid thoughts as I grab her wrist before she touches me. I suppose it’s the exhaustion. It must have gotten to my brain.

“No, it’s not fun.” Oh, it’s way too much fun, but my control is too strenuous as it is. “You need to shower. Wash your hair too.”

She blinks, then looks at me with puppy eyes.

“Now?”

“Now.”

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