Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
JOLIE
It was okay to admit I was freaked out, right?
Getting freaked out by this situation was totally normal.
What was a bit less normal was the fact that it wasn't me milking a damn beast that was freaking me out. Nope. Nuh uh.
I was totally losing it because I was looking forward to it.
There was more than a small part of me that was desperate to see what it felt like to have him in my hand, and work him over until he spilled his seed for me.
There was still so much about it that I didn't understand, and other than it had to happen twice a day, I didn't get any of the rules.
But I did know that the thought of him, this incredibly large, virile, attractive beast, having his way with me excited me to no end.
I mean, I wasn't an idiot. All my adult life—and young adult if I was being completely honest—I've known that there was something other about me. A part of me wanted to submit to a partner.
Which is probably why I was still a virgin.
Because finding the right person to intrigue me enough to have me offer that to them was impossible. Not to mention the fact that at first, looking after Papa was pretty much a full-time job until I got him the care he needed.
Ugh. Why was I even thinking about this? It's not like me going down on my knees in front of the master to stroke him to completion was anything more than what he'd told me.
Okay, saying it like that, I totally got why my thoughts went there.
I shook myself as I walked through the dim corridor, candle in hand, heading toward the room Beatrice had told me about. The room I would always meet him in for my evening duties.
Evening duties.
Goddess, help me.
My thighs squeezed together on their own, and I pretended it was because the manor was cold. It wasn't.
It was all for him.
The damn master.
Somehow between this morning and now I'd convinced myself that this was more than just a job. More than a paycheck and a way to help my papa.
"Stupid," I whispered to myself, cheeks burning even though no one was watching. “You're not here to fall for him. You're here because you were hired to do a damn job!"
But the memory of his voice telling me my purpose rippled through me again.
I stopped outside the door at the end of the hall, gripping the brass handle just to keep my fingers steady.
This was it.
My first milking session.
What if I was really, really bad at it?
It would be the first time I touch another person like that. Not to mention... he wasn't just another person.
He might be a monster... a Minotaur... but he was so much more. In my limited interactions with him, it was quite clear that he was one powerful creature, and his intense stare still had me shivering at just the thought of it.
And because he was so intriguing, so delicious, so much more, I found myself incredibly desperate to please him.
Please him more than any milkmaid before me.
Which was ridiculous.
I swallowed down the nerves and prepared myself to open the door.
"Just do your job," I muttered to myself. "There's no need to get clingy and turn into a stage five clinger with your boss. Whom you have to milk. Sexually."
The door opened from the inside before I could finish my pep talk and I jumped back in fright.
He stood there filling the doorway, looking down at me like he'd been tracking my heartbeat through the walls. His fur glowed warm in the light, shadows clinging to the carved muscles of his chest, and his horns curved like polished obsidian.
"Pretty flower," he practically purred in greeting.
It wasn't the first time someone has used this pet name on me. And previously I hadn't thought it particularly imaginative as it was the direct translation of my name and surname. But coming from him it had a different ring to it.
"You should probably know, as a beast, I have remarkable hearing, and can normally pick up whispers from the other side of a closed door."
My heart stopped.
Oh shit. He'd heard my pitiful pep talk.
Did that mean he would send me away?
Dear goddess I hoped not.
My heart beat a million miles a minute and my already sweaty palms grew so clammy I was grossed out by it, but before I could make my excuses or come up with some lame reason for what I'd said about becoming obsessed with him, he spoke up.
"Come," he invited me inside by taking a step back, allowing me to pass.
My feet moved before my brain caught up.
Inside, the room was warm, lit by a single standing lamp in the corner. It made it seem almost... intimate.
When the door closed behind us with a soft snap, I jumped at the unexpected noise.
"Master," I started, but the words I'd been practicing dried up, and I couldn't think enough to form a proper sentence.
His breath caught before a low rumble filled the air, and I realised it was coming from him. It was almost like a purr.
And I swore it went straight through me, down to my core. My very needy, aching, wet core.
I was in so much trouble.
He stepped closer, his shadow coming over me, until he was just over me and I could feel the warmth of him brushing my skin.
"Tonight, we will start with the basics."
My heart thundered.
"O-okay," I stammered.
He lifted an eyebrow before taking a deep breath as if gathering patience.
"When responding to me, you will always complete your sentences by properly addressing me. Do you understand?"
Again—why was that so damned hot?
"Yes, Master," I responded, unable to control the tremor in my voice.
"Good girl," he rumbled as he lifted a hand to brush a knuckle down my cheek. The touch was shockingly gentle for someone with hands as large as his. Yet I knew, if he wanted to, he could snap me in half.
"You're trembling," he murmured. "You've no need to fear me, Jolie. Do your job, and do it well, and I'll reward you beyond measure."
"It's not you, sir," I somehow found the courage to respond. "I've just never done anything like this before."
His gaze darkened as he stared at me intently. "What do you mean, pretty flower?"
I swallowed down my nerves. "I-I mean, that to-touching you, will be the first time I touch another person like that."
Another low rumble filled the air, and I had to physically restrain myself from moving those last few inches and plastering myself to him.
"You'll learn." His thumb grazed along my jaw, tipping my chin up. "I'll teach you everything you need to know."
I breathed in sharply, my chest tightening against the sudden intensity of his gaze. He moved past me, toward the table where a thick dark cloth had been laid out with a large metal bowl filled with water.
"Come here," he ordered.
I instantly obeyed, because my body refused to do anything else.
"Wash your hands in the bowl," he told me.
I quickly rushed to do as he bid, first rinsing my hands then drying it on the dark cloth.
While I'd been doing that, he'd moved closer again, his large frame right behind me.
He was so damned close I could all but feel him against me. Master's breath fanned the back of my neck and a shiver ran down my spine as I suppressed the urge to whimper or moan in response.
"Your hands will be doing the work," he told me quietly. "But first... you must understand what you are tending to."
My knees nearly buckled. I didn't dare turn around.
"Look at me, Jolie," he ordered.
I turned. Slowly.
His eyes were a molten gold, fixed entirely on me, and having that much attention focused on me was a heady experience.
And then... he began to untie the belt at his waist.
My breath caught in my throat.
The room felt too hot, too small.
The sound of a zipper being opened was so loud in the quiet room that I almost winced. This was soon followed by the rustle of fabric as his trousers fell to the floor.
I had no control over what happened next.
My gaze instantly lowered to take all of him in.
And there was a lot.
Oh... I was in so much trouble.