Page 20 of The Minotaur's Milkmaid
Yours, and you’re mine.I think fiercely. The thought burns through me, liquifying my bones until I’m certain I’ll melt right into his palms. Gods, how does he do this to me? I’m drunk on it, on him, on the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing he’ll ever worship.
He tugs me up, his arms wrapping around me. The kiss he gives me is deep. His tongue sweeps in to taste himself on mine, as if he can’t bear to let even that much distance between us. It’s messy, possessive, and perfect. I melt against him, my fingers clutching his mane, my body still thrumming from what I’ve just done.
When he finally pulls back, he nuzzles my cheek, his breath warm against my skin.
“Sweet little milkmaid,” he rumbles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Let me take care of you now.”
Chapter Twelve
She Owns Me
Dakar
Ilower Maeve onto the furs. Gods, she’s perfection. My hands can’t help but trace her creamy skin, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. Every inch of her is a feast, but her breasts…
“My beautiful mate.” I sigh, cupping their fullness, thumbs brushing over peaked nipples. “These were made for me.” For my hands, my mouth, my cock. The claim surges hot in my blood as I bend to take one taut peak between my lips, suckling deepwhile my palm kneads the other. She arches, a gasp catching in her throat, and I groan against her skin.
My own need is a vicious ache, my cock is already straining again, but I need to worship my mate.
I lavish her nipple with slow, wet pulls, my free hand sliding down her belly to tease the heat between her thighs. So fucking wet already. My fingers glide through her slickness, circling.
“Let me hear you,” I murmur against her breast. “Tell me how much you want this.”
“Oh Gods, Dakar!” she moans as her fingers twist in my hair, holding me to her breast. I don’t let up, sucking, milking her with slow, deliberate pulls that make her thighs shake against me. She gasps when I circle her nipple with my tongue while teasing her clit with my fingers.
“P-please.” It tears from her throat, half-sob, half-plea, and the sound goes straight to my cock. I growl against her skin, sucking harder just to wring out another broken cry.
“That’s it, my sweet milking maid,” I rumble, lapping at the peak I’ve drawn taut. “Drench my fingers.”
I don’t relent. My tongue flicks her nipple while my fingers work her in firm, slick circles, matching the rhythm of my mouth to the greedy clutch of her cunt. She’s so responsive, hips jerking, thighs squeezing around my wrist like she can’t decide whether to pull me closer or escape.
“Look at you,” I praise, biting lightly just to hear that whimper. “I could milk these perfect tits for hours…watch you come undone on my tongue again and again.”
“D-Dakar!”
Her back arches off the furs, that sweet scream punching straight through me, and fuck, I love it. Love how her body is writhing for me.
“Good girl.” My thumb presses flat against her clit. She won’t come like this. No, she’ll come when I’m buried between her thighs.
A high-pitched whine escapes her lips as she thrusts against my hand. I can feel it, how her toes curl in the furs. Every muscle in her perfect body is shaking with need, aching for release.
“No…please,” she begs so sweetly. “I can't…it feels too good…”
She says it like she's being tortured, like she's drowning in pleasure, and it makes my cock throb. I don't relent, my fingers circling that perfect little clit, drawing out every shudder, every gasp.
“Dakar, I need…” Her words dissolve into panting as she writhes beneath me. This is where she belongs, trembling on the edge, completely at my mercy.
I lean down, my lips brushing her ear as my fingers keep going. “I know what you need, little cow,” I growl. “But you'll take what I give you. WhenIdecide.”
“Please,” she sobs, hips grinding against my hand. “I’ll do anything!”
Fuck. I’m hard enough to ache, but I ignore it. Her words unravel as much as they fuel me. And Gods, I’ll give it to her. I’d give this woman anything she ever asks of me. But notjustyet. Not until she’s so far gone she forgets her own name.
“You're not going to come until it's on my tongue.”
Maeve’s eyes go wide, and that look alone could make me ruin her right here. Her thighs spread wider and I drop between her legs with a groan. Her scent is so sweet.
“Such a good girl,” I praise, blowing hot air over her soaked cunt just to watch her squirm.
