Page 33 of Wrangled By the Minotaur
His entire body stills above me. “You’re telling me you’re a virgin.”
“Yes.” The word slips out so quietly I can barely hear my own voice.
For a long moment, he just stares at me, his expression cycling through surprise, protectiveness, and something that looks like hunger. When he speaks again, his voice is strained with barely controlled desire.
“That explains why you taste so sweet,” he rumbles, leaning down to nuzzle against my throat. “So innocent. So untouched.”
The possessive edge to his words makes me shiver. “I want you,” I whisper. “I’m just… nervous.”
His laugh is dark and rich. “We’ll work up to it. But first…” He trails off, his hands moving to the hem of my shirt. “I need to taste you again.”
He doesn’t ask permission this time—just strips me with efficient movements that speak to his growing impatience. When I’m finally naked beneath him, he sits back on his heels to look at me, and the hunger in his eyes makes me feel like prey in the most delicious sense.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands skimming up my sides. “So small. So soft. I could break you without even trying.”
“Then don’t try,” I whisper.
His grin is all teeth and dangerous promise. “Oh, little bee. You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
Then his mouth is on me, and I lose all capacity for coherent thought. He uses everything he learned about my body yesterday morning, his textured tongue working me with devastating skill. But this time feels different—hungrier, more possessive.
The sounds he makes, low rumbles and satisfied growls, vibrate against my sensitive flesh. His breathing is heavy through his nose, hot puffs of air that add another layer of sensation, and I can feel the way his horns brush against my inner thighs as he moves.
When he focuses on my clit, using the rough texture of his tongue in ways that make me see stars, I arch off the bed with a cry that echoes through the room.
“That’s it. Let the whole valley hear you. Let them know who’s making you scream.”
The possessive command in his voice, combined with the relentless pressure of his tongue, sends me spiraling over the edge. My first climax crashes over me with devastating force, my entire body convulsing as I scream his name.
But he doesn’t stop. If anything, he becomes more determined, using his knowledge of my responses to push me toward another peak before I’ve even recovered from the first.
“Too much,” I gasp.
“No such thing,” he says firmly, his massive hands gripping my hips to hold me in place. “You can take everything I give you. Youwilltake it.”
The dominance in his voice, the way he’s completely in control of my pleasure, sends me spiraling toward another release. This one is deeper, more devastating, leaving me boneless and gasping beneath him.
When he finally crawls back up my body, I can barely form words. My skin is flushed and sensitive, my pussy still pulsing with aftershocks.
“You taste like honey,” he murmurs, settling beside me and pulling me against his chest. “Sweet and addictive. I could spend hours between your legs and never get enough.”
The casual possession in his words makes me shiver with renewed want, but I’m too wrung out to do anything about it. Instead, I curl into his warmth, letting his steady heartbeat ground me as we both catch our breath.
For a while, we just lie there in comfortable silence, my fingers threading through the thick fur on his chest like a quiet meditation. But gradually, the events of the day start creeping back into my consciousness—the interview, the stares from townspeople, the reality of what we’ve set in motion.
“What happens when the article comes out?” I ask quietly.
His arm tightens around me. “We find out who our real friends are.”
The truth of that statement hits harder than I expected. But I know he’s right.
“Thursday feels like a lifetime away,” I murmur.
“Whatever happens, you’re mine now. That doesn’t change.”
The possessive certainty in his voice should probably concern me. Instead, it settles something anxious in my chest. For once in my life, I don’t have to be the one making all the decisions, carrying all the responsibility.
I close my eyes and let myself sink into that feeling, storing up this peace against whatever chaos Thursday might bring.
