Page 22 of Mochas and Minotaurs

“Providing skin-on-skin contact.” I lifted the blanket and sheets, climbed into the bed, and was immediately treated to her body heat. Holy hell. It was like an oven in there. “How are you so warm, woman?”

“I’m not warm. I’m cold.”

Suddenly a twin set of ice cubes pressed against my legs, and it took me a moment to realize they were her feet.

“You’re warm, but you're also freezing. How does this make sense?”

“I don’t need to make sense.”

I pulled her close and tucked her into the hollow of my body, marveling at how perfect she was as my little spoon. But despite my intention to keep everything PG-13, my body decided it had other ideas. It was impossible not to react with her delectable form pressed up against me, the scent of her filling my lungs.

“Ignore it,” I said when my cock sprang up between us, pressing insistently against her ass. I moved it so it lined up with the centerline of her back; it was least intrusive that way.

But my attempt at chivalry proved to be in vain when she arched back, rubbing her ass against me, and her lust thickened the air between us until I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t the only one who was recalling our night of passion and wanting an encore.

“It won’t help my magic, but it won’t hinder it either.” She gave her hips another suggestive roll.

I wanted her to be well-rested for tomorrow, and if we got started, there might not be a lot of rest on the horizon. But I couldn’t leave her wanting either. The scent of her need was driving me half mad, and if I didn’t relieve it, we’d both get no sleep tonight.

“Let’s compromise,” I said, my voice raspy. “I’ll give you what you need, but you let me do all the work.”

“How can I say no to that?”

That was all I had to hear. I shoved the blanket down and moved to position myself between her legs. The satin short shorts stood between me and my prize, and I pulled them off in a single fluid motion, exposing her to me. She gasped, and her arousal bloomed. Running a palm up her body and under the thin, silky tank top, I marveled at how soft and smooth her skin was compared to mine. I palmed a breast, glad that there was no pesky bra in the way.

I crawled up to cover her body, shoving the tank top over her breasts so I could capture a beaded nipple with my mouth. Gigi arched against my touch, biting her full bottom lip as I gave each nipple a thorough lathering with my tongue before kissing my way down her body.

Realizing I planned on tasting her, she protested. “But we can both—”

“You agreed to let me do all the work. I’m holding you to it.”

I pinned her wrists down to the bed by her sides, and she struggled ineffectively.

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s very fair. For me.” I settled myself between her legs and bent my head, my horns keeping her knees open wide.

I inhaled the scent of her lust and licked my lips. The slit of her cunt glistened with a hint of wetness, and I couldn’t wait to taste it and draw more from her.

I bent my head and licked, letting my tongue travel languidly up the slit to the apex where her clit hid between the folds. Her breath hitched, and she froze when I thrust my thick tongue into her warmth.

Gods! She tasted as good as she smelled, and my cock was jealous of my tongue.

I released her wrists, and her hands went to my horns automatically. That was where I’d wanted them the other night, but the magic had encouraged her fingers to slide into my hair instead. She squeezed my horns, demanding I continue, and I could do nothing else.

Chapter 11

Griselda

Who would’ve known thathorns made such good handles? I grabbed the curve of them, my hips moving involuntarily, grinding my pussy against his mouth. His tongue was thick, but I needed more.

As if reading my mind, Marcus moved his mouth higher to focus on my clit, his fingers replacing his tongue. He pushed two digits into me. They weren’t slim, elegant ones, but thick, masculine fingers used for labor and weights.

“Yes!” I hissed, tossing my head to the side.

He drove his fingers into me, pumping in rhythm with his tongue and lips. My impending orgasm started to build, and I held my breath, anticipating it. But it was too slow. I gasped for air and squirmed, rocking my hips and shoving at his horns.

“Faster,” I begged.

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