Chapter 17
“What is that?!”
Rourke scowled from across the lawn, pushing his messy hair from his eyes long enough to glare before it tumbled back into place. She had previously joked that he didn’t own anything less formal than a three-piece suit, and although it was an exaggeration, it was only a slight one. She wasn’t sure what shocked her more now—the sight of him casually dressed in the white t-shirt, tight around his biceps and straining across his broad back, or the fact that it was emblazoned with the words MEGA MILKER and the Farm’s logo.
“What?” he demanded defensively. “It’s not like I wear it out of the house, I’m doing yard work!”
“Yeah, but how did you get it? She held up a hand, groaning, already knowing the answer to her question. “This was in one of the ‘reward tiers’ I’ll bet. How many loads did you need to shoot to work your way up from the coffee cup? Wait, actually, I don’t think I want to know.”
“Happened a lot faster since you started,” he called smugly, restarting the mower with a roar. “I went from the water bottle to the coffee cup in a month. You start milking me like your little cow boys, we might have a tote bag by Halloween, you can use it for trick-or-treating.”
He easily dodged the shoe she threw at him and pushed the mower away, the rumble of his laughter competing with the motor.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head with a scowl, limping with one sandal into the house. “Ido all the work, andyouget the free company swag.”
Geillis responded to the text she sent immediately.
How did it go? Do I need to drain one of the neighbors?
She’d had university friends that would have jumped at the chance to have been taken care of by a partner, had had friends who’d done exactly that, trading their independence for the ability to splurge on lunches and shopping and makeup. The thought of having an allowance as an adult had never sat well with her, and she had no doubt Rourke’s home would be open to her if she were to express the slightest desire to not find her own place, and even though he’d made good on his promise of spoiling her both in the bedroom and out, wasn’t willing to ruin what they had by rushing things. She needed the security blanket of having her own place, her own independence, a way to keep herself from growing too dependent on his money and bossiness and desire to have her around all the time.
I want to talk to someone from your LEASING OFFICE. I don’t want you eating your neighbor. Wow, I can’t believe I even need to say that.She sighed, smiling before continuing.I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think it went really well. I told them about how my boyfriend took me to Mapplethorpe and that I thought I wouldn’t need to rely on so much synthetic reproduction for their project. He seemed really happy with that.She’d taken all of Rourke’s little lessons on who pulled the strings in town and banked on there being a rivalry between families, a hunch that had seemed accurate.
Brilliant. Everything’s coming up roses, effluvia. I’ll send the number today.
She heard the back door pull open a short while later. The white noise of the mower was gone, and the only sound she could hear coming from outside was the distant yip of Lurielle’s little dog, probably barking at a squirrel. She could hear him in the kitchen, shifting around at the back door, pressing his hooves into the silicone gaiters she’d learned most hooves residents wore indoors to prevent catching their sharper edges on carpeting and preserving their bed linens. When she heard the shower in the master bedroom start, she was certain he’d be grateful for some company to soap his back.
She’d never get tired of the sight of him, she was certain. Warm, nutty brown, so strong, and so soft for her when she needed him to be. Water ran in rivulets down his broad back, cutting tracks through his hide as she stepped into the steamy, stall-like shower. He was ticklish just under the base of his tail, and she’d discovered that the seam of his scrotum was covered in the same barely-there velvet as the inside of his soft ears. She kissed his sac, laving her tongue against the spot where he was most sensitive until his cock began to thicken and swell, fat and firm in her hand as the glass shower wall steamed completely.
She loved the way his big balls slapped against her clit when he entered her from behind, just as she loved the way his brow would furrow when he concentrated on his laptop screen; loved the way he snuffled and snorted up her skin before dipping his mouth between her thighs, and the way he sometimes made the same sounds in his sleep, huffing against the pillow as she pressed to his chest. He was solid and warm beneath her when she slept in his bed, and solid and steady for her when her anxiety obliterated her good sense, as steadily as he held her then, aloft in his arms with her legs wrapped around his hips.
She fell apart beneath the water as he pumped upwards into her: squeezing shut her eyes, tightening her legs as her inner walls clenched around him, gripping him tight. He’d slowed his movements then, always enjoying the way she squeezed his cock, before resuming his shallow upwards thrusts. The odd angle meant he was barely halfway in her on every pump, but when his cock erupted inside her, spattering her inner walls with rope after rope of his thick release, Violet kicked, twitching in his arms, the pressure and fullness making her spasm once more.
“How did it go?” His voice was a low whisper into her neck, none of the command; none of the snarl; only the tender softness he reserved for her.
“I think I got it.” His arms tightened when her entire body trembled, the act of saying the words aloud so much scarier than merely thinking them in her head, and Violet wondered if he’d be able to tell the difference between her tears and the water still gusting from the shower.
“Good. I knew you would.” His cock slipped from her like a particularly corpulent eel, swinging loose with a gush that sent a ripple up her back, splashing to the shower floor like an overturned bucket. “Fuck, it’s going to clog the drain . . .” She squealed, tightening her arms around him when he reached, pulling out one of the pods from the net around the shower head and ripping it open, sprinkling the enzyme to the deluge below. After a moment, it began to sizzle, breaking down the protein that would absolutely clog the drain, the protein for which he practically earned a second income. “Everything is going to work out just fine, sweetheart. You’ll see.”
* * *
“A little higher.”
Violet squinted in frustration, not understanding just how high this minotaur wanted her hand to be. It was the third time he’d made the request, and each time she moved her hands farther apart, and each time it evidently wasn’t enough.
“Just a little bit more . . .”
“Why don’t you tell me exactly where you’d like them,” she cut in, tired of playing this guessing game. The bull was close,soclose, but something was keeping him from being able to tip over the edge, and the longer they spent playing hotter-colder, the longer it would take him to get there. “I’ll do whatever you need me to, it’s fine.”
“I-I need them to hit my balls.”
She closed her eyes, thinking she should have known. She understood exactly what he liked, because she too loved it when her face was pressed to the mattress and her ass high in the air, Rourke’s heavy balls slapping into her clit on every thrust. “I can definitely do that.” Raising her hand like a paddle, she slapped into the minotaur’s sac as he resumed humping against the bench, coming with a groan before long.I wonder if he’s a Mega Milker.
A pin had come with Rourke’s coffee mug, small and white and glinting, and she’d put it on the strap of her bag, wearing it as a badge of honor, wondering if anyone would see it and give her a knowing look. The bull’s bottle weighed in at eighteen ounces, not quite the volume of the elite, certainly not tote bag-worthy, she thought, giggling as she loaded the tank on the conveyor belt, her mirth interrupted by an insistent buzzing in her pocket.
By the time she made it into the last collection room of the day, he was already settled against the bench, giving her a lascivious smile as she entered. “I want to be milked like a good little cow today.” A command that brokered no argument.
Violet rolled her eyes. “You’re completely ridiculous.” Thick and veined, fatter than it had the right to be, his cock jerked when she took it up in her slickened palms, and above her, he sighed contentedly.