Page 53 of Bull Moon Rising

“I see.”

She’s quiet for another long moment, and it takes everything I have not to look over at her. If I do, I worry she’ll see the smolder in my gaze and get skittish. It’s too soon for my eyes to turn red with the Conquest Moon but five hells, I’m feeling its nearing presence in every throb of my cock.

Aspeth is oblivious to my internal turmoil, however. Her voice grows bemused. “I suppose I shouldn’t find it strange. My parents were a marriage of convenience and I don’t recall ever seeing them kiss. Lots of marriages are for convenience’s sake and I know I’m not the first human to marry a Taurian. I suppose I’m not missing out.”

Missing out?

Missingout? Because of marriage to a Taurian?

I stand fully upright, letting the water sluice off my form. My cock is fully hard and dripping water just like the rest of me, and I look over at her, making sure she sees every last bit of what is on display. “I’ll make sure you don’t feel things are lacking. Trust me.”

She’s comfortable on the bed, snuggled up with her cat. At the sight of me, her gaze goes to my cock and stays there, her eyes wide as if she’s just now realizing our size difference. She blinks. Squints. Blinks again. Bites her lip.

Doesn’t look away, though. Not even when I reach over to pick up a towel and dry my arms off, making sure my cock continues to swing free, stabbing at the air with hungry need.

Aspeth sits up slowly, setting the cat on the floor and hanging her legs over the side of the bed. Her expression has changed to thoughtfulnesseven as she continues to stare at my cock. It prickles with the heat of her gaze, and I can feel pre-cum sliding down the domed head.

“I—” she begins, her voice a croak.

I bite back a chuckle.

She clears her throat and tries again. “I cannot help but think about how you showed me your cock. Would you like to see my body, too?”

“YouknowI would.” If bulls could purr, I’d be purring right now.

She gets to her feet and tugs at the front of her boxy blouse, at the brown buttons that line the front. It’s the most unflattering of garments on her, but I know what she looks like underneath. I know what she looks like wet. The guild uniform is just a tease. “If I was a bolder sort, I’d make a joke that I welcome critiques.” Aspeth gives me a nervous little half smile, glancing up. “But I confess that I’m an absolute ninny when it comes to my body. If you find something repugnant, please don’t tell me about it. I’m nervous as it is.”

As if I’d ever tell her that she was anything but splendid.

She fiddles with one of the buttons and then glances back at the bed. “Should I be sitting or standing?”

“You should be however you’re comfortable.”

“So in the library with a book upon my lap, then?” she jokes, tossing her blouse to the floor. Next go her boots and stockings, then the trousers she wears. She strips it all off methodically, and when she’s down to nothing but a corset and her thin chemise, she pulls her hair down from its pinned bun and shakes it loose. With trembling hands, she pulls the laces free of her corset and tosses it aside. Her chemise follows after it a moment later.

Then she slides back onto the bed and lies atop it like a corpse at a viewing, her legs tightly together, hands folded at her waist, eyes closed.

It’s not the sexiest of positions, but I’d have to be an idiot not to realize how unsettled she is. I move toward the foot of the bed, giving her space, and eye her pale, plump legs. I like them. I like the rounded curve of her calves, her delicate ankles, and her large feet. She’s tall and solid and made as such, and I’m dying to skim my hand up one strong, thick thigh so I can watch her legs part.

But I can tell she’s nervous. It’s the whole corpse thing, her eyes squeezed shut as if she expects me to take her measurements with atailor’s tape and tsk over what I find. I curl my fingers around her ankle, lifting it up, and rub her foot.

Her gaze flies open. “Oh—”

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “You’re fine. We’re just a naked married couple in our room together. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“Says you. You’re beautiful.” She watches my hands move over her foot, her gaze heavy-lidded. “You’re covered in muscle. I don’t think I have a single one.”

I bite back the laughter that threatens to huff out of me. “I’m pretty sure I spotted one. At least one.” I let my gaze move over her again, lingering at the gentle swell of her belly. She’s soft here, too, an indication of her pampered life, but I rather like it. I like the thought of cuddling up to pillowy softness in a wife. Her breasts are just as large as I expected them to be. Flat on her back, they pull toward her arms, her nipples dark and prominent and tight. All of her looks soft and touchable, and I can’t stop staring.

“There we go,” I tease. “There’s a muscle.”

She laughs, trying to crane her head to gaze at the foot I’m holding near my chest. “Where?”

I lean in, nuzzling her ankle. “Right here.”

Aspeth whimpers, the sound soft and utterly enticing.

“Is this all right?” I ask, even as I run my muzzle against her soft skin. “Or should I stop?”

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