“That’s the one. See that table of elves at the edge of the bar there? I want to send one to the blonde in the blue dress. No alcohol, and if you can add one of those little paper umbrellas, all the better.”
The satyr had narrowed their eyes dubiously, looking from Violet to the big minotaur before turning to put the order in with a shrug.
“Did you just buy another woman a drink right in front of me?
“I did, but just wait. She’ll be stomping over here in a minute. This way we can make introductions without needing to get up.” He’d leaned down then, easily covering the distance between them at the small table, and she’d barely had time to suck in a breath before he was kissing her, stealing the air from her lungs and doing nothing to ensure the continued dryness of her panties. “Thank you for meeting me tonight. I know Wednesdays aren’t exactly the most romantic date night, but the idea of not seeing you until next week didn’t sit well.”
The baritone vibration of his voice went directly between her thighs, her head practically lolling as the edge of his muzzle grazed the shell of her ear.
“I can’t believe you have to cancel for Friday.” The news that she’d not be seeing him at the farm that week had been a crushing blow, and she’d been mourning the opportunity to milk him, the first time she’d have done so since he’d come to meet her in the city. Taking his cock in her hands and listening to his tightly controlled gasps and grunts—now that she knew exactly where her head came up on his chest, now that knew he preferred to start his meal with dessert, now that she knew how searingly hot his mouth was on hers—was the most erotic thing she could imagine, and she’d been looking forward to his weekly appointment since he’d left her on her doorstep the previous Saturday.
“You didn’t think of taking this trip while Stiff Grip Sally was covering for me?” She hadn’t had the chance to fully appreciate his full-throated laugh, as a woman had appeared at his elbow, petite and full-figured with long, tapered ears, her sapphire eyes narrowed as she jabbed Rourke’s shoulder.
“You know, joke’s on you because I actually like these.” As if to prove her point, the elf tipped back the fruit-adorned drink she carried, smacking her lips defiantly. “Please tell me you didn’t tell Xenna I’d absolutely be at her party.”
“Because that sounds like something I’d do, after all. Do you mean to tell me Mr. Perfect isn’t overjoyed for the opportunity to ooze and schmooze with the whole neighborhood?”
The elf cocked her head, considering, and Violet had used the opportunity to gawk. Her dark blue eyes were wide-set and fringed in pale lashes, with a spray of freckles over her tiny button nose. She was lovely, and Violet was forced to wonder if she looked as drab and boring in comparison as she felt. “Actually, he would, you’re right.” Her lips curled into a self-satisfied smile as Rourke snorted, and then the elf’s eyes turned, taking Violet in for the first time.
“Hi, I’m Lurielle. Are you planning on making introductions, Rourke?”
She was introduced to the infamous neighbor, the full apples of other woman’s cheeks rosy-pink as she smiled, blue eyes flashing as she looked from human to minotaur with an approving hum. “Violet, I’ll warn you now—he’sverybossy, and if you go to get ice cream, hewillharass you for a taste of your cone. It doesn’t matter if he sampled it at the shop, he’s greedy. But he’s a very good neighbor, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t convince him to move away. Oh! We just got a new patio set, you’ll both have to come over for drinks and dinner. Khash likes to pretend that he single-handedly wrestled down a mastodon every time he turns on the grill, it’ll be great.”
She’d left the table soon after, extracting a promise from Rourke that they’d come over some evening soon, before disappearing through the press of bodies to return to her friends. Violet liked her enormously.
Dinner had been just up the block on the vibrant little town’s Main Street, and when the bill arrived, she’d attempted to pull a handful of carefully folded bills from her wristlet, before he’d stopped her.
“No, that’s absolutely not happening. Put that away.”
She’d not thought about it until the day after their first dinner together, realizing in mortification that she ought to have attempted to pay her half.What kind of feminist are you?!She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out andhadn’tpaid for her half, including her coffee date with Carson Tinsley, which accounted for how infrequently she went anywhere. She had come prepared that night, several weeks of her tips smoothed and tucked into her wristlet.
“But I didn’t even offer to pay half the other night and I should ha—”
“Violet.” If the commanding rumble of his voice hadn’t silenced her, the heat of his hand dropping to her knee would have. “I don’t want you to feel that you don’t have any agency here. I might be the one giving all the orders, but you hold all the cards. Your comfort is the only thing that counts right now, and if I overstep, I want you to know you can tell me so. Butthat’snot happening. Don’t think I’m unaware we’re at different points in our careers. You can say no, you can say you don’t want to see me again, you can tell me to stop coming to the farm when you’re working. It’s dinner, not a down payment on your time. But I’m in a position to comfortably spoil someone, so when you’re with me, I’m spoiling you. End of story.”
Shewasa good feminist, she’d told herself, and she definitely couldn’t be bought . . . but if he’d have suggested at that moment that he would have appreciated a blow job, she would have fallen face-first on his cock with an open mouth without a shred of hesitation.
Like the previous weekend, the night had ended with a kiss that had nearly turned her inside out, the hot pressure and texture of his tongue reminding her of her suppositions over what it would feel like licking her sex. His giant hand wrapped around her hip, drifting lower as he nibbled on her neck until he palmed her ass, kneading over her cheeks. She could feel the heat of his erection through his neatly tailored trousers, pressing herself tighter, eager for whatever would happen next.He leaves on a business trip tomorrow and he’s missing his milking appointment, he’s not going to want to leave town without letting you suck him off at the very least.She’d been about to ask if they were going back to his place when he released her, locking his hands around her elbows when she swayed.
“I’ll miss seeing you this week, but I’ll call once I’m back in town.”
She’d somehow managed to make it back to her apartment, texting Geillis in aggravation. She appreciated that he was acting like a gentleman and that they were taking a bit of time to get to know one another, shedid. She was certain if they hadn’t that she’d be doubting his interest in her as anything other than a casual human dalliance, her rational mind reminded her of that regularly . . . but the other half of her; the base, animalistic side that thought of nothing but his cock and how it would feel erupting inside her, was ready to climb out of her skin. Her friend’s suggestion to her ire had been typical.
Send him nudes.
She’d not had the courage to go that far, but had instead sent a casual photo of herself wearing a thigh-skimming slip of a nightgown, curled atop her blankets. It had taken nearly two hours to set up and artfully arrange herself on the bed in a way that didn’t look like a jumble of knobby knees and chubby thighs, taking and discarding photo after photo before she’d sent it off with a message thanking him for dinner, and that she’d miss him while he was gone, opening an incognito tab on her phone to load up some minotaur porn, scrolling until she found a bull with similar coloring to him, and set to work rubbing circles against her aching clit as the human on screen was taken from behind.
* * *
“So you started your business out of spite.”
He’d blown out through his wide, pink nostrils, hard enough that it lifted the pecan-brown hair that fell in his face. “That’s a tremendous oversimplification.”
She’d dissolved into giggles at his wrinkled nose and offended tone, leaning forward in a swoop as she laughed, the solid grip of his hand the only thing that tethered her to the earth until he swung her around to crash into his side, his broad body absorbing her laughter.
“You did too. You took your ball and went home and started your own game.”
“A better game,” he grumbled in response, earning another peal of laughter from her. “More respectable. Absolutely more profitable.”