Chapter 5
Brutus
My first match came faster than I expected. Apparently, a lot of women have expressed interest, but Brooke takes the matching very seriously.
I’m glad. I can hardly handle the idea of a line of women ready to fuck me, let alone the reality.
I fidget in the staff break room, drinking too much coffee. This room has the cozy charm of a farmhouse kitchen, and I’m once again glad that Honeysuckle Farm isn’t so… clinical. I definitely couldn’t handle that.
My tail lashes anxiously behind me.
A warm hand clamps over my shoulder, and I jump.
Alexander’s rich laugh surrounds me. The brown bull tangles his horns with mine in a familiar—and flirtatious—greeting.
“You look like you’re about to get a root canal,” he says. “You’ve never been this nervous about trying to stick your cock into me.”
I snort and shove at his horns. “Also haven’t managed to.”
“Just relax. Trust your instincts. You spill beautifully for me.”
My cheeks warm. I think I know what Alexander is doing—trying to rile me up, get me competitive, bring out the bull in me who’s ready to claim a female.
It almost works.
My ears pin and the tuft of my tail flicks against my calves.
“It’s different with females,” I say quietly. I think I mean I’m different with females. Different than minotaurs are supposed to be.
A breeding stud who’s too shy to breed? What a joke.
Alexander’s expression softens, and he bumps his nose into mine before leaning back. His furry brown hand tousles my ears.
There are hardly any bulls big enough to even try that, and Alexander’s certainly the only bull I’d tolerate it from.
Still, I snort.
“Attaboy,” Alexander says.
I crumple the empty paper cup in my hand and toss it into the trash can. “It’s the waiting I hate. I’m sure I’ll figure it out once we… get into things.”
Alexander nods. “A woman’s scent is a powerful thing.”
“I know,” I grumble. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He lightly punches my shoulder. “Can it get any worse than being dragged away from a park because you’re being testerical?”
That gets a chuckle out of me. “No. Okay, fair.”
A sly smile spreads across Alexander’s snout. “And hey, if you chicken out… I’ll be there to finish the job.”
Instinctive fury boils in my chest, and I snort, lowering the points of my horns towards Alexander.
He just lets out a cool laugh.
I huff. “Prick.”
“That is what the dames love about me,” he teases, sheath twitching. He slaps my arm. “Get in there, stud.”
He knows it’s time because he’s seen the piebald goat satyr open the door behind me. The satyr’s spots continue from his haunches up the dark brown skin of his torso, reminiscent of vitiligo, and there’s a white streak in his micro braids.
“Ready for Brutus,” he calls.
My tail flicks. “That’s me,” I say, mustering my most charming smile. As if… what, I’m going to shake this woman’s hand, then bend her over?
The satyr leads me down the climate-controlled hallway. The soundproofed doors and walls are mostly successful at suppressing the moans and cries from the rooms currently in use.
Little flags above each door signal the room’s current status: empty, ready, in use, needs cleaning.
I focus on these little details to distract myself.
“Here you are,” the satyr says, opening a door marked Ready.
I force myself to step inside, not quite breathing.
There she is. Human. Plump. Gorgeous.
She’s on all fours straddling a padded breeding bench, back arched and slick cunt presented.
Her skin is sun-kissed olive, and nearly black curls cascade from her head, shimmering with inner warmth. With the angle, I can just see the bridge of her aquiline nose with its elegant arch and the round curve of her cheek.
Everything about her is round and plush and luscious, and my sheath twitches as my eyes drag down her curves.
Then I take a breath—and I smell her.
Sweet like honey, spiced like cloves, rich like musk, and ready.
She’s clearly in heat.
Ovulating.
Whatever.
I snort as blood rushes to my cock, and I take another deep breath of her.
Instinct takes over, and I step forward, sinking my fingers into her soft hips.
Thick, curly hair frames her pussy, and I dig my thumbs into her ass and pull, revealing the pinkish-brown skin.
My mouth waters and I lean down, plunging my thick tongue between her folds.
She whimpers, and my ears swivel toward her as I slide my tongue deeper, drooling at her perfect taste. Sweet and earthy and oh-so-ready for my cock, which bumps the breeding bench as it throbs, already fully erect.
I let it ache as I bury my nose in her cunt, tracing her cervix with the tip of my tongue. My cock weeps at the idea of my cum pouring into her, working past that tight ring, filling her womb.
Drool runs down my chin as I tighten my grip on her ass, eating her like a bull starved.
She moans, quaking, and her muscles clench around my tongue. As I circle her cervix, she cries out. I give special attention to that spot toward the front of her body, and she shudders.
“H-holy shit!”
I slide a thumb over to her clit, working it in time with that spot that makes her gasp.
Her voice tightens into high, shameless moans that send me dripping onto the floor as she begins to fall apart.
“Oh, fuck!”
My tongue presses through her rhythmic clenching as she climaxes, and her exultant cries nearly make my cock burst untouched. She gushes around my tongue, and her arousal drips down my fur, soaking my chest.
As I massage her plump ass, bringing her gently down from climax, relaxing her so she can take my cock, I realize I have a problem.
A grave, serious problem.
I’ve failed. I’ve completely and utterly failed.
I knew I wasn’t cut out for this.
I’ve made a total mess of things, letting down both her and myself.
Because she’s the first woman I’ve ever been matched with, and…
I am completely and totally in love.