Page 10 of Minotaur Bar (Minotaur Bar #1)
I grab the bottle and down a healthy gulp of whiskey as Havoc disappears to find supplies to stitch up my wound.
I’ve never had something like this happen to me.
Sure, I’ve scraped my knees countless times, the odd sliced finger while cooking.
But being almost gutted by a minotaur horn while on the job? Hell no.
This is extremely new territory.
And now my hot ass boss is about to fix me up because I’m uninsured and not about to rack up an ER bill that shatters any monetary progress I’ve made.
“Keep working on that bottle, red,”
Havoc says quietly as I nod and obey.
“You alright with me slipping your shirt off?”
Call me a wounded idiot but I didn’t even think about that and now my fucking pussy is heating at the thought of stripping for this sexy bull.
He looks down at my clenched thighs and a low growl leaves his throat, his fingers clenching the island beneath me, caging me in.
He looks at me hungrily, nose to nose with me.
“Take it off,”
I reply breathily as he helps me try to lift my arms. I cry out in pain, my side protesting angrily at the movement.
“Fuck it. Hope you aren’t attached to this shirt. I’m cutting it off, babe.”
I nod, not even caring. He grabs a pair of scissors and begins to cut me out of my top. I feel my nipples harden beneath my bra as he works it off my body.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,”
Havoc mumbles to himself under his breath.
“Really?”
I ask stupidly.
I know he’s attracted to me, and I know I’m attractive.
I’ve been a plethora of different sizes throughout my life.
Small and slender and now what I currently am, which is curvy and sexily busty.
I decided one day I was going to love myself despite the number on the scale or the size of my clothing and ever fucking since, I’ve been a happy bitch.
That doesn’t mean I don’t like to hear this mammoth minotaur relaying his attraction to me.
“Tell me I’m pretty,”
I demand, grabbing his crop top in the center of his chest and pulling it taut.
“You’re more than pretty, Tess. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
He places his hand on the side of my neck and holds me steady as I gaze up into his eyes. I take another swig of the Jack.
“Again,”
I demand as he smirks, a small snort leaving his black snout.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, babe.”
He kisses the side of my neck he isn’t touching. I moan feebly, my eyelids fluttering closed.
“Take my bra off, Havoc.”
My tone leaves no room for argument.
He leans back, his eyes raking over my tits before he complies.
My heavy breasts spill out gratefully, sitting on top of my soft stomach rolls as Havoc puffs air out of his muzzle.
It’s so primal and animalistic. I can feel myself getting wetter as he snorts a few more times.
“I can fucking smell your arousal, red,”
he says as he leans me back on the island. He lightly smacks my hand with the bottle and urges me to drink more. I do, grunting out loud at the burn of the alcohol. I have no chaser. I never needed one.
“You even drink sexy. Fuck, you’re trouble.”
“Havoc!”
I say urgently as he begins to pick up the tools he’s going to use on me.
“Hey, shh. It’s ok, Tess. Take a deep breath,”
he soothes as my eyes begin to tear up again.
“I’m so fucking scared,”
I whimper as he nods and places a gentle kiss to my brow. I chase his warm snout with my head, leaning into his soft nose.
“I’m so fucking scared,”
I repeat even softer, the tears falling down the side of my face.
“I’m going to take care of you. I can’t promise it won’t hurt, but I’ll make it worth your while if you’re a brave babe for me,”
he says gently.
“How?”
My jaw is trembling as I brace myself for the stitches. I can hear my teeth chattering incessantly.
“I’ll lick your pussy after I stitch you up. You want me to eat you out after I’ve fixed your gash, red?”
I don’t even have to think about it; my head is nodding profusely as he joins me.
“That’s what I thought,”
he says quietly, his hands going to the ties on my Docs.
“I’m going to take the best care of you, red. You’re safe in my hands. You’re mine to serve. My pretty mistress.”
“Madame,”
I correct him as he pauses, and dark arousal fills his gaze.
“Madame Red. I’m here to worship you, babe.”
My chest is heaving at his submission. It’s so fucking hot to have this hulking bull at my command. I’ve always assumed a more dominant role within my relationships, but never have I had such a powerful beast under my control.
“Good boy, cookie. Strip my beautiful body bare so you can patch me up and make me better.”
He hears every word even though I’m barely able to get them out through my joint pain and arousal.
“Yes, madame,”
he growls back, throwing my boots the floor. I know if I weren’t hurt, this would be a hell of a lot more aggressive. Unless I told him to go slow. But tonight, I’ll allow him to remain half in charge. I am fucking bleeding out on his damn kitchen island.
“Fuck me, red,”
Havoc groans as he finally pulls my underwear from my body after adding my pants to the growing pile of clothing beneath us. He immediately lifts my panties to his nose, taking a giant whiff. He moans like he’s also in pain as he grunts out his approval.
“You smell just as sexy as when you sat on my desk, babe.”
His giant tongue gathers the crotch of my panties, licking my slick away. I’m able to get a sneak peek at the piercing there as he wets the fabric further with his tongue.
“Fuuuuuuck.”
I can literally feel the arousal seeping out of me as he turns me on with his noises. Male moaning. Enough said.
He throws my underwear to the ground after getting his taste of me and turns to the sink, washing his large hands.
“If I don’t start this now, I’ll never get your sutures in,”
Havoc says gruffly.
“But fuck, I’ve been dreaming of how you taste for the last month and a half. You did not disappoint, red.”
“Madame,”
I remind him as a shiver rocks his giant frame.
“Yes. Madame,”
he says after me, drying his hands.
“If it’s ok with you,”
my perfect sub continues .
“I’m going to walk us through what I’m about to do.”
“You may,”
I reply, trying not to let the hint of fear running through me be audible in my voice.
If Havoc does recognize it, he doesn’t say so.
I’m grateful for it.
I’m trying my best not to be terrified of the needles I see in the pack that he opens.
The first thing he does is don the largest pair of latex gloves I’ve ever seen.
His hands look so fucking sexual encased in the plastic material. I’ve always had a thing for them. I do my best not to jostle my torso as I squeeze my thighs together.
“You like these gloves, madame,”
he says, watching me squirm. It’s not a question. He can smell what they’re doing to me.
“Very much so,”
I whisper, my pussy uncomfortably swollen without having been touched or relieved of my ache.
“You’re so handsome, cookie. How have we waited this long to do this?”
“Never again. I shouldn’t have waited for something this dire to be our catalyst.”
I see a flicker of sadness behind his dark eyes.
“This wasn’t your fault, Havoc,”
I reply, needing him to know that.
“I should’ve kept you safe,”
he tries to protest but I shake my head.
“It wasn’t your fault!”
I yell as he stills, his gaze settling on my gash.
“You didn’t do this. Some shithead drunks did. You’re not to blame. And this isn’t scaring me away from wanting to work at the bar either.”
“It’s not?”
he asks, surprise and hope lacing his question.
“Hell no. It’s gonna take a lot more than tonight to chase me away, big guy,”
I say with a smirk.
“Thank you for saying that. It’s been at the forefront of my mind since I smelled your blood tonight.”
His gloved hands rest on the island as a wave of emotion hits him hard. He sniffs, trying not to cry as I grab his wrist and hold it tight.
“It’s ok, baby. I’m ok. Just breathe,”
I speak softly as he nods and takes a couple deep breaths.
“That’s it, cookie,”
I assure him sweetly, rubbing my thumb over the hair on his arm, helping him to ground.
“Fuck me, that damn nickname is already sticking in my head,”
he says with a dark chuckle.
“Only you could get me to fall for something like that, madame.”
“That’s right,”
I say with a wicked grin.
“That’s my job, baby. Now back to the instructions you were about to give me.”