Page 26 of The Minotaur's Milkmaid
“Maeve,” he groans, his lips finding the curve of my neck.
I’m still trembling, my body oversensitive, when I feel his cock slide out of me, and a whimper escapes me at the loss. But before I can protest, his fingers are there, catching the spill of his cum, pushing it back inside with a rough, possessive growl.
“No,” he rasps, pushing his release deeper “Every fucking drop stays where it belongs. Inside you.” His palm is pressed firmly against my lower belly, as if he can keep his seed buried inside me by sheer will.
I twist in his grip, seeking his mouth, and he meets me in a savage kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperate, clawing need. When he finally pulls back, his amber eyes burn into mine.
“I love you,” he grits out like it’s been dragged from somewhere deep within him. “Fuck, Maeve, I love you. My mate.”
The rawness of it steals my breath. There's no poetry, no pretty words, and somehow that makes it mean more.
“And you’re mine,” I breathe out and lean in to gently catch his bottom lip between my teeth. “Always.”
He makes a satisfied grunt and pulls me into him, crushing me against his body as his mouth finds mine again.
When sleep finally finds us, I’m still held tight against him, still full of him, his arms wrapped tight around me, his heartbeat steady and strong against my back.
Chapter Fourteen
I’m Always Yours
Maeve
The wildlands stretch endlessly around us, all tall grasses and sunbaked stone, until the landscape begins to change. The hills grow steeper, the trees older and taller, and the path beneath Dakar’s hooves turns to smooth rock, worn by time. I ride on his back, my arms looped loosely around his shoulders, being careful not to brush the wound still tender beneath the fresh bandage.
He’d reopened the wound last night. And I let him. Again and again, until I could barely breathe. I didn’t even realize he was bleeding until I saw it dripping down to his forearm. I made him sit still while I cleaned and wrapped it properly, even when he tried to distract me with kisses and jokes.
I rest my cheek against the side of his neck as he carries me. My body is still aching in the best way.
Ahead, something rises in the distance. It’s not a castle, exactly, but it looks like one to me. Great towers carved from the cliffs reach upward, softened at the edges by ivy and moss. Rope bridges stretch between them, swaying gently in the breeze. A massive wooden gate stands open, flanked by two towering Minotaurs. They nod at Dakar as we pass.
I squeeze his neck gently, heart fluttering as we cross into his world.
There are people everywhere, Minotaurs and Hucows alike, their voices bubbling with laughter. Hooves clatter against stone, and somewhere nearby, someone is playing music. Homes are nestled into the cliffs and trees, some perched high with ladders winding up like vines. Smoke drifts from chimneys in soft curls, carrying the scent of herbs, firewood, and something I can’t quite name, but already love.
The moment we step into the large courtyard, Dakar sets me down. There's a loud cheer as a group of Minotaur warriors with broad shoulders and curved horns stride toward us. They greet Dakar with heavy claps on the back, rough voices full of affection and respect.
“Commander,” one says, grinning as he takes in the sight of me. “You finally brought her home.”
Dakar only nods, his expression proud as his hand reaches out to grip my waist as he pulls me closer. I duck my head, suddenly shy beneath so many watchful eyes. But then I hear soft gasps, and I glance toward the far side of the courtyard.
There, near a stone well, are several girls, dressed in flowing linen, their hair braided with ribbons and flowers. My heart leaps. Annie waves excitedly, her whole face lighting up, and beside her, a few others beam with warm smiles. They look…happy.
Relief floods through me so quickly that it almost knocks the breath from my lungs.
“Maeve!”
A blur of blonde hair and blue fire barrels toward us. Beatrice.
She stomps up to where we’re standing, and before I can even speak, she hurls a wooden bucket straight at Dakar.
The contents, something white and sticky, maybe milk, splatter across his chest and face with a wet smack.
I gasp, horrified, my hands flying to my mouth. Dakar doesn’t move, only blinks as the liquid drips down his face and soaks into his tunic.
“You brute! You absolutemonster!” Beatrice’s voice rings through the courtyard, trembling with rage. “You took her! You stole her, and no one knew if she was alive or dead!”
The whole stronghold falls into a hush. The other Minotaurs stare at their Commander with shock, waiting for him to lash out.
