Page 3 of By the Horns
Nor can I demand someone go to the underground mancer’s shop and ask for my weekly dose. Without my regular dose of the potion, my needs have come rushing back. The god’s hand—which the potion stays—has returned with a roar. My sexual hungers are making me twist in agony. Most Taurians are only god-touched during the Conquest Moon, but some of us are god-touched permanently, and it makes us insatiable.
“Can I get you anything?” the healer asked me earlier.
“A woman,” I managed. “A sex worker.”
“Oh.” The healer seemed flustered at the request. “Is there a Taurian moon—”
“No.” I pull the sheet off and show the permanently swelled knot at the base of my cock. “God-touched.”
“Oh. Oh, mercy.” The elderly healer made a few other fluttery, anxious noises, but I couldn’t see her face to know if she’d agreed or not. It’s been hours now, though, and I was about to get up from the bed—wounds and all—and demand that someone send a female to me. Anything to get this wild ache out of my groin. I can’t even take care of it myself because my mucking hands are bandaged.
But it seems as if my request has been fulfilled after all. I lift my nose, trying to pick up her scent. Normally human females smell like sweat and musk and all kinds of delicious things. This one just smells like…soap. Soap and cleaning supplies, and lemon. They love to soak this hospital in astringent things, though, so my senses might be numb after days of being here. Shesoundsfemale at least. “You’re the female they sent up?”
“Aye, that’d be me. I’ll get you taken care of and then I’ll be on my way, promise.” Her voice is sweet and cheerful, all business. I like that.
“Good.” I’m so relieved I could jump out of this bed and do a jig…but the burns on my body wouldn’t be too happy with that. Instead, I simply pull the sheet off my groin, my already stiff and aching cock leaping free. “As you please.”
There’s a little pause. “Is that a knot?”
Inwardly I stiffen. It’s something I despise hearing. Something I hate having to go over with every new sex worker, because it brings up problems. Some fear my size, as my knot just increases the girth of my already-large Taurian cock. Some are anxious and don’t want to be knotted under any circumstances and will scream it loudly to all who will listen and make me feel like a monster. Most behave like I’m an unforeseen issue that can only be solved with a lot more coin. No matter what, I’m treated like I’m a problem, and I hate it. I go through the rote explanation I offer to every sex worker I encounter, my voice tight. “SomeTaurians are ‘blessed’ by Old Garesh to have a knot at all times. It makes our need constant.”
“That sounds…distracting.” Her voice grows breathy. A moment later, I hear the click of the lock in the door. “Lucky for you, I’m all about distraction today.”
I groan. Gods, yes. This is exactly what I need—an eager, willing partner. “I’m yours to play with, woman. Be as rough as you like.”
Two
Gwenna
What in allthe mucking hells am I doing? The thought bounces in my head even as I lock the door to the Taurian’s quarters and approach his bedside. He clearly thinks I’m here for a hand job—or more—and not that I’m here to clean the windows. I should tell him no.
And yet…I love this idea.
I’ve been crawling out of my own skin all afternoon with the dead man nearby. Haven’t I been going on and on in my head about how I need some sort of diversion? A release of some sort to distract my body? This is perfect. Anonymous, delicious sex. Zero strings attached, tons of distraction. “I’ll do it,” I tell him, setting my bucket down quietly. “But I have rules.”
“Rules?” He huffs, his snout turning in my direction. “What rules, exactly?”
“I want to come, too. If I get you off, I need at least one orgasm of my own or else I’m not touching you.”
His mouth curls into what looks like an amused smile. When he speaks, his voice is a low, sultry purr. “Oh, sweet female. That’s an easy task. Just come climb on my knot and I’ll make you feel very, very good.”
I shiver, and this time not because there’s a body in the alley. This time it’s because of anticipation.
“Do we need to discuss your payment?”
“Already taken care of by the guild,” I lie. No need to point out that I’ll be using him as much as he’s using me. I shimmy out of my bloomers and skirts, then strip my tunic off after a moment’s hesitation and kick off my boots. Umala likes for the nestmaids to wear skirts, repeaters or not, so my clothing is a bastardized version of a guild fledgling’s uniform, along with the black repeater sash. But if he realizes that, he won’t think that I’m a hired sex worker, so it all goes by the wayside. I leave my frayed and much-patched corset on, since it’s trickier to get on and off, and move to the edge of the bed.
He immediately reaches for me, gripping one of my butt cheeks in a bandaged mitt. The Taurian’s groan of pleasure is loud in the room. “Nice, thick flanks. My favorite.”
And he squeezes even as he hisses with pain.
I bite back a squeak because his handling makes me slippery with arousal. The buzzing from the corpse in the alley below is fading behind nervous excitement. I’m not the type to jump into bed with just anyone, though I’ve had my share of lovers in the past. Before, I’d always had a relationship of some kind with my sex partner.
Before, they’d always been human. The sheer size of this Taurian and the knot are all new to me.
But new is definitely distracting. It’s just what I need.
I reach out and stroke his cock, fascinated at how thick he is. A long strand of pre-cum glazes the head of his cock and I run my fingers through the wetness, using it to slick my hand.
