Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
JOLIE
Idressed slowly the next morning, my hands clumsy from lack of sleep and... other things.
Some nerves. Some embarrassment. And maybe I was slightly turned on by the monster that had chased me off to my room the previous night.
Who could blame a girl for helping herself out a bit to the image of that bull having his way with her?
The uniform Beatrice had provided was simple but well-made. A soft, navy dress with buttons down the front, a crisp white apron, and a modest neckline. I tied my hair back with a ribbon, then hesitated before the mirror.
I almost didn't look. But curiosity won out in the end.
My reflection stared back at me. Familiar yet foreign in this new setting.
The ribbon and the pins I normally stuck in it barely contained my dark hair, which normally fell in loose waves.
My hazel eyes, set too wide, made me look younger than I was.
Everyone always said so. My skin was pale from years of indoor work, my mouth was too full, and my freckles too light to count as charming. And my figure...
I smoothed my hands over my hips. Too soft. Too round for my length.
A knock startled me so hard I nearly tripped over my own shoes as I went to answer it.
"Miss Jolie?" a bright voice called.
I opened the door to a girl no older than fifteen, her curls bouncing, her smile unbearably sweet.
"I'm Fifi! The master says you're to join him in the dining room for breakfast." She bobbed a curtsy, and I made a mental note of her form for when I needed to imitate it. "If you'll follow me?"
My stomach gave a swooping lurch. Time for breakfast. With the Minotaur. With the monster who had glared at me, growled at me, and then sent dinner to me in complete contrast to the convincing villain he'd impersonated.
I followed her down the hall, hands clenched in front of me.
The manor was even more beautiful in the soft morning light. It might have been gloomy, but it still had a romantic feel to it. Almost nostalgic.
When we reached the dining room, Fifi gestured me inside, and then promptly vanished before I could beg her not to leave me alone with the master.
He sat at the head of the enormous table, broad shoulders hunched over a plate he hadn't touched. His horns caught the morning light, polished obsidian curved in a way that made my pulse skip. His fur seemed darker today, or maybe it was simply that I wasn't staring at him through a haze of tears.
His gaze lifted when I entered.
I curtsied so fast my knees cracked.
"Tha–thank you for the dinner last night, sir." My voice squeaked. I winced. "It was very kind."
His nostrils flared. The low rumble in his chest was not quite a growl, but it was close enough to send a shiver down my spine.
"Sit down, Jolie."
I stared.
Sit?
With him?
I thought I was just here to get my instructions and be on my way.
"S–sit... where?"
He gestured impatiently to the chair beside him, close enough to feel his body heat and touch him if I felt daring enough.
"Oh, no sir, I shouldn't! I'm only a maid.
I can eat in the kitchen, or... or after everyone else.
Really sir, I don't mind. And I can start working immediately after.
I already have a list in my head of things that should be dusted, and I can polish silver, wash linens, and even clean out the fireplaces. "
A roar split the air.
I froze.
Was he...
He was... laughing.
A deep, booming, startled laugh that shook the damn walls!
My face burned as he leaned back in his chair, shoulders shaking, his teeth flashing.
"You truly have no idea why you're here," he said at last, wiping at the corner of his eye. "Do you?"
My throat worked uselessly. "I answered an advertisement for a maid, sir."
He nodded. "You were hired," he said, voice dropping into something rumbling and terrifying. "As my maid."
I swallowed hard, confused about what was so funny.
He shifted in his chair, the massive muscles of his chest tightening under his fur. "Jolie... you're not here to sweep floors and wash dirty laundry."
I tried to connect the dots, but it didn't make sense.
He leaned forward, his voice a dark purr that had that naughty girl inside me perking up.
"You're here to be my milkmaid."
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
"But... you're a man?"
One thick brow lifted.
"I'm aware."
I shook my head, my hands fretting in front of me as I tried to figure out how to get my thoughts across without offending my new employer. "I mean... men don't have—you know—udders."
Heat raced up into my ears, and I wished for the floor to swallow me whole.
The master watched me, though. Quiet for a while before finally explaining.
"You will be milking me, Jolie." His voice didn't rise, but it didn't have to. It crawled over my skin, warm and heavy. "Twice a day. And no, I don't have udders."
I stared at him. Confused... and oh-so-curious.
"Milking... what, exactly?"
A long silence. Then his tail flicked once, slow and deliberate.
"My cock, little flower."
My breath left me in a sharp, helpless sound.
He didn't elaborate. Didn't soften the blow, or backtrack, telling me it was all a joke. He simply watched me absorb his words.
"Why?" I managed to whisper.
His jaw clenched, and I realised I'd made yet another mistake. It was not my place to question the master. Beatrice had made that clear.
"How does it work?" I wanted to know, not thinking about why on earth I wasn't running for the hills.
He stared at me for another long moment and I worried that I'd overstepped again.
But then something in his expression shifted.
Bloody hell, did the monster just soften?
Not much, mind. But enough that the air between us felt different.
"It works," he said slowly, "the same way it would on any overfull man."
My stomach flipped.
"My body produces far more than it can safely contain. If it isn't drained regularly..." His expression darkened. "The consequences are unpleasant."
For him?
For me?
For the damn world?
But I knew better than to ask now. "So you need me to... help you out?"
His nostrils flared. "Yes," he rumbled. "It only ever works if someone else does it."
Heat curled low in my stomach, chased by a flicker of fear. I should have been horrified. I should have been planning my departure.
But instead... There was a traitorous spark inside me whispering to me that someone needed me.
I dropped my gaze, trying to gather my thoughts.
"When would I start?" I asked, barely above a whisper, unable to make eye contact with him.
His answer came easily. Quickly. "Tonight."
A shiver rippled through me.
"Now, eat your breakfast, Jolie. We'll go over your schedule and duties."
I managed a nod, though my throat felt too tight for words. I took a seat, picked up a fork and started eating without taking in anything about the meal.
The master watched me.
Tonight.
The word echoed in my mind with each bite I took.
Holy shit.
What had I gotten myself into?
And why was it so damn tempting?