Page 91 of Sequel to the Easter Bunny

Something about this empty place makes me feel the smallest amount of pity for him.

He may have dozens of devotees lurking in Babel with their bull masks, but he is alone here, just as Jack was.

Perhaps the trickster god can’t trust anyone else, because he himself isn’t trustworthy.

Pity softens me, but I can’t let it overrule common sense.

He wants this to feel real, and I can pretend. I faked so much with Jamus…. What’s one more performance?

With his focus fixated on my breasts, he doesn’t seem to notice my hand move until I touch the velvety plane of his cheek.

Then, he freezes.

He’s so still I question whether he’s turned to actual stone, but his dark eyes rise to meet mine. There’s suspicion and something else buried deep inside that look. He might not know I’ve already tricked him, but I’m certain he suspects I’ll try now.

To keep my Easter Bunny, I’d fuck Death himself. Convincing the trickster god I could love him….

I draw his chin up, pressing a chaste little kiss to his lips.

Still, he doesn’t move.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of little old me.” I glance sideways at the hourglass. “Time’s passing you by.”

His hands spear into my hair, drawing my head forward and he kisses me roughly, his wide mouth working over mine, his rough tongue parting my lips to play with mine.

That tongue will no doubt find its way inside of me before the sands run through.

His large hand finds my waist, drawing me against him in a hard pull that presses me against the front of him, and I feel that cock I remember too easily.

He’s hard, and it pulses against my stomach.

There’s a power in this deception I probably shouldn’t like.

I let his hands play over me, expecting him to tear away the latest creation Jack has clothed me in, but instead….

Minoka drops to his knees in front of me, looking up with a level of devotion I don’t trust.

I can’t be real.

But his gaze drags down me and the dress opens as though a zipper runs down its front.

His deceptively soft hands trace over my exposed skin and I shiver at the touch.

I meet Jack’s eyes, watching him, making sure he’s still okay. When he leans back against the ornate headboard and takes his cock in hand and strokes that long shaft, I wish I was closer.

But Minoka wants to play his game, and I’m determined to win.

He pushes the gown back, and it slithers from me to the floor.

The silky whiskers on his muzzle brush against my stomach, and I flinch away, laughing as they tickle me.

“Sorry.” Minoka’s words are a breath on my skin, and I don’t know how to take them.

I don’t imagine he’s ever apologised to anyone before.

“I can’t be the only one naked if you want to have your fun.” I honestly don’t know why he’s wearing the black toga-like garment, but it evaporates a moment later.

Glancing up at Jack once more, I take Minoka by his muzzle and draw him up. “You want to come on these lips, don’t you?”

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