Chapter Twenty-Six

Stephanie

A lazy smile stretches across my face as I unfold pictures of what we shared last night in this bed after our disco party. Afie’s an Other, as in otherworldly. Even though we’ve been together for three months, I’ll admit I never expected that sex with him would qualify for that description.

This male knows how to make love, but something about what happened last night felt like it was the best sex to ever happen on this planet or any other. Dear Lord, that male is a freaking sex god, or maybe it’s that we get emotionally closer every day.

I feel my nipples tighten to hard points as I imagine us performing a replay this morning. No. Not a replay. Sex gods don’t have only one play in their playbook. As I’ve already discovered, he has hundreds of other, possibly better, ideas up his sleeve.

When I roll over to sneak a peek at the male lying next to me, prepared to see the minotaur face that has grown so dear to me, I’m surprised to find his side of the bed not only empty, but cold.

“Bad manners,” I whisper, then take a deep whiff of the scent currently curling in my nostrils. “Bacon!”

I sit up, eyes wide, sniffing wildly as I confirm that yes, indeed, someone is cooking bacon in this very house.

“A male of many talents.”

Not only did he make me come so hard my muscles are still aching, but he’s also making me bacon. If he were to write a dating profile that consisted of only three—or is it four?—words: “Sex-god, cooks bacon,” he’d have to beat the women off with a stick.

Instead of grabbing some of my clothes, I rummage in his side of the closet, which is filled with few things other than dozens of Labyrinth tees with deep V necklines. I find one in robin’s egg blue that has a khu’rinn on it. The triangular box of the instrument has a minotaur standing in front of a labyrinth. Naked, of course.

“Perfect,” I say as I shrug it on. It hangs to my knees. After what we shared last night, I’ll almost feel overdressed wearing this to breakfast.

A brief picture of Ashley walking naked to the kitchen pops into my mind, but I banish it as I descend the stairs and make a beeline to the kitchen. The scent and sound of bacon sizzling is like a magnet pulling me closer.

“I’ve got your vanilla roast coffee pod in the machine, just waiting for you to push the button,” he calls before I press through the swinging door.

I knew he had superhuman hearing, but wasn’t the sound of my approach muffled by the pound of beautiful bacon sputtering in the pan?

“Do you like it crispy?”

“I like my minotaurs hard, but my bacon flaccid.” I shrug, knowing it’s not a popular position in this world of unsophisticated carnivorous palates.

“Great minds think alike. Crispy bacon is for squares.”

“Speaking of 70s slang. I had such a good time last night.”

He stops flipping the bacon and spears me with a serious look as he asks, “Really? What was at the top of your list? The à la King? Saturday Night Fever? Dancing?”

“Two things tied for first place. Those homemade biscuits… and you.”

Sometimes Alfie has a bit of an ego, and who would blame him? He single-handedly carved out a musical empire against all odds. But it’s nice to see his shy smile in response to my words.

“Nah, Alfie, I take that back. Upon further review, I’d have to give you a slight edge over the fluffiest homemade biscuits I’ve ever tasted. But don’t tell my mom.”

“Don’t tell your mom where she sits on the biscuit-baking totem pole, or don’t tell her about me?”

He’s not looking shy now. His brow is furrowed with worry.

I approach and slide into his arms. “I’m not ready to introduce you to my mom, Alfie. It’s far too soon. Don’t worry. They know about you, about us, and they approve. So when the time comes, I’ll do it proudly.”

“Mmm.” His voice is so deep it rumbles through his chest into mine. “Do you want a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit sandwich or all the ingredients separate?”

“A sandwich, thanks.”

I’ve had fun with boyfriends before, had things in common, and I’ve had good sex. At least I thought it was good until I met Alfie. But with him, I have it all.

“We’re going to have another picnic in the backyard. Fix up your coffee. I’ve got your favorite creamer, dulce la leche.”

Half an hour later, we’ve eaten Alfie’s amazing sandwiches, and I’m swallowing the last dregs of my coffee. Something’s up. I can tell by the sparkle in his eyes. Finally, he spills it.

“I would say I’ve been a good sport. You know, the whole disco thing? You’ve got to give credit where credit is due. It wasn’t easy to embrace that kind of music. Although it’s an acquired taste, I’m growing… fond of it.”

“Okay, props to you.” I wonder where he’s going with this.

“So, how about giving a try to something I love?”

Mmm. If it has anything to do with sex, I’d be hard-pressed to turn him down.

“You’re not filling me with confidence, but okay…?”

“One of my favorite things,” he pulls his shirt up and works it over his horns, “is absorbing the sun on every. Inch. Of. My. Body.” As he spoke, he worked his pants off. Of course, my minotaur male goes commando.

“Naked? You want me naked? Happy to do that… in bed.” I do my best imitation of a leer and an eyebrow waggle, though I’m not sure how well I succeeded.

He approaches, grabs my hand, and lifts me out of my seat. “Yes, to the naked part. No, to the in-bed part—at least not right this minute. You, my dear Stephanie, are going to experience my backyard in a whole new way.”

My first impulse is to push back. Nudity isn’t my thing, except for sex. But he’s right. He gave disco a shot. The least I can do is see what he loves about roaming the great outdoors without a stitch of clothing.

“Alright.” I wait for him to pull my shirt off, to sexualize the experience, which is what I thought would happen, but he doesn’t. He simply waits for me to take off my tee.

“We’re going for a stroll.”

It takes me a few more seconds to get my mind right, then I pull off his Labyrinth shirt. When I glance at him, looking embarrassed, he gives a soft chuckle.

“My property backs to county lands. No one will see you. Trust me.”

Trust. Okay. I can try that.

The grass feels cool and ticklish beneath my bare feet as Alfie leads me toward the thick stand of pines bordering the rear of the groomed part of his yard.

“Just breathe and be present,” Alfie instructs, his deep voice calm and reassuring. “Feel the breeze, listen to the sounds of nature.”

I close my eyes and do as he says, taking a deep breath. The air is pleasantly warm from the sun. Birds are singing joyfully in the tall pines surrounding us. I hear the rustle of leaves and smell the loamy scent of the earth.

Although I’ve grown up with these sounds and smells my entire life, there’s something about experiencing it in the nude that makes it different, somehow—more real, more sensual.

Slowly, my awareness expands beyond my uncovered body. I relax into the experience.

We meander leisurely along a winding path. Sunlight filters through the tree canopy, dappling my skin. I marvel at how different everything seems without the filter of clothing. Colors seem more vibrant, scents more potent.

I trail my hand over bushes, leaves, and tree trunks as we pass, delighting in the contrast of textures—prickly pine needles, rough live oak bark, downy new leaves.

“How are you feeling?” Alfie asks, his amber gaze trying to read me.

“More connected,” I reply with some surprise. “It’s like I was missing an entire layer of experience before.”

Alfie smiles, looking pleased. “That’s how it always feels for me too. I never feel as present, as… awake as when I’m nude.”

We continue in comfortable silence. With Alfie by my side, my self-consciousness fades. I understand the appeal of his nudist tendencies. Out here, surrounded by nature, it feels natural and liberating.

When a light breeze blows by, caressing my bare skin, I close my eyes and tip my face up with a smile. I could get used to this.

“Do you think this will stop your endless teasing about my nudist tendencies?” He turns to me and brushes a strand of hair off my cheek. I must admit, he could have spent the last half hour ogling me and making sexual innuendos. Instead, he’s simply been present, friendly, and acted as though this were the most natural thing in the world. I guess it is.

“Absolutely.” I cup his cheek tenderly with my palm, then smile and shrug. “Give me a day, two at the most, and I’ll find something else to mercilessly tease you about.”

“Well,” his voice lowers to that lusty bass tone that indicates his thoughts have turned to sex. “While you’re considering what to tease me about, I have two things I’d like to tease right now.”

He slips a hand around my waist, tugs me close, and bends his head to lave one nipple while he plucks the other. Although I’d half expected our naked walk to take this direction, the swiftness of the subject change pulls a startled gasp from me.

I grip his horns at the base, trying to find that sweet spot that makes him low with pleasure. When I get it perfect, he rewards me with a shake of his ropey tail—high praise indeed.

He doesn’t give a soft bellow, though. He grunts in pleasant surprise, then lifts me gently into his arms. I straddle his waist, and he manages to keep walking along the path while he licks the column of my throat with his rough, wet tongue.

I cling to him, the silken texture of his fur against mine sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. Every touch, every caress from his minotaur hands feels different, more intense out in the open air. I’m acutely aware of his muscles flexing beneath my fingertips as he carries me effortlessly through the forest.

Alfie’s kisses grow more urgent, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that ignites a fire within me. I lose myself in the taste and touch of him, forgetting everything except the here and now. The trees around us seem to sway in time with our passion, the air crackling with excitement.

He kisses me deeply, his tongue exploring the depths of my mouth as his hands roam eagerly over my bare skin. I’m lost in a haze of desire, my body responding to his every touch. The urgency builds, a primal need surging between us.

Without breaking our kiss, Alfie carefully lowers me to the soft grass. The earth cradles my back as he positions himself above me, his eyes burning with raw desire. I can feel the hard length of him pressed against my thigh, and a surge of excitement washes over me.

He’s a male of many moods. This is nothing like the tender Alfie he sometimes shares with me. This is an alpha minotaur in all his powerful, focused glory.

He slips a hand between my legs and his amber eyes flare, then slam closed for a moment.

“So wet for me, Steph. Ready?”

I don’t say the thought that flies through my mind, that I’m always ready for him, that I woke up ready this morning. Instead, I smile, nod, and lean close to nip his velvet-soft bottom lip.

With a growl of need, he thrusts into me, his movements slow and deliberate. My body welcomes him, arching into each deep, powerful stroke. Pleasure courses through me, igniting every nerve ending, and I’m lost in a swirl of sensation. The combination of his strength and gentleness overwhelms me, and I surrender to the raw passion between us.

We move together, lost in a rhythm that matches the beat of his song “The Talurine Sea”. His coppery gaze captures mine, and I’m fully drawn into the here and now: the fur of his legs stroking along mine, the sounds of his pants and grunts—a combination of passion and high praise—and the volumes of affection pouring out of him, though no words are spoken.

All of this stokes my arousal. I’m so needy, so ready. I widen my thighs, wanting impossibly more of him, although I’m stuffed so full of his thick cock another millimeter might break me. His fur caresses my hardened nipples with every thrust.

He lifts my leg, draping it over his forearm, which allows him to surge even deeper inside me and changes the angle, so every drive collides with my sweet spot. It pulls a startled yelp of pain/pleasure from me.

His eyes flash open, clearly fearful that he’s hurt me. Before he can pull away, I grab his ass cheeks with both hands to keep him close.

“Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. His rhythm increases, pounding me against the soft grass, coaxing my need higher until something bursts inside me. My moan is loud, feral, in keeping with the wild surroundings.

He’s huffing now, thrusting so hard his pelvic bone grinds against my clit with every forward pulse, pushing my bliss even higher as wild swirls of ecstasy circle outward from my epicenter, setting my body ablaze with pleasure.

He speeds up with long, powerful drives, pulling almost all the way out and then slamming home again and again until he comes with a bellow that would wake the neighbors, if he had any.

Now panting with exertion, he eases to the soft ground next to me. He shifts my leg and rests it over his hip, keeping us locked together as he sweetly kisses the tip of my nose as though he didn’t just pound into me with the force of a hurricane and the strength of a wild man.