Page 24 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs (Haven Ever After #8)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MANORIN

S aturday morning, Catherine’s eyes are saucers as we step out of the portal to Pine Gulch and into the vintage western-style train station.

I laugh at the look on her face as I squeeze her fingers.

“I take it you’ve never visited, despite your…

role?” I can’t speak of how she architected the magic that holds the haven system together.

I’m not even supposed to know that, although she confided in me when we dated.

It would’ve been hard to hide that secret, serious as we were at the time.

She shakes her head as she spins a slow circle, taking in the wood-paneled floor, giant plate-glass windows and the wood plank ticket counter on the far end.

“I painted so many places into existence,” she whispers, staring around before bringing her gray gaze to mine. “I’ve only ever seen most of them on canvas, though, and even those are in safekeeping at HQ. And I never know how they actually get developed.”

“Well,” I stroke gray waves away from her cheeks. “I can’t wait to introduce you to Pine Gulch, pretty girl.”

The Pine Gulch portal station’s bustling with monsters coming to visit for this weekend's moving of the herd and the associated festivities. It’s busier than usual, though, I’m guessing because it’s easier for folks to travel here with the new portal station.

I’ll admit, it was really fucking nice to take just two portals to get home.

That’ll make it easier for me to visit more often without planning two days of portal travel.

Not to mention dealing with my nephew Alarion, yet again.

I’m not gonna let him sour my mood today, though. I’ll have to handle that soon enough. I sling Catherine’s bag high over my shoulder and guide her toward the magic-powered train that’ll take us into downtown.

I get my fair share of looks from the locals, but other than a few friendly nods, they don’t crowd me the way monsters usually do when I travel. It’s one of the things I love about coming home to the Gulch.

Here, I’m just Manorin Longhorn, Yet Another Minotaur.

We exit the portal station onto the train platform. Waving at the giant black and red locomotive, fashioned after human steam engines of old, I look at Catherine.

“The train runs on a useful bit of touristy magic we might want to consider for Ever, if the monorail idea becomes a reality. This same train travels all over the Gulch, to literally every corner and every town. The ride takes about six hours altogether, but it sits in its own time warp. So, if you’re not actually on the train, it appears to show up at the station every quarter hour.

It’s perfect for when you’re not in a hurry and just want to enjoy the ride”

Catherine’s mouth drops open. “So you never wait longer than fifteen minutes?”

I nod. “That’s right. Off the train. On the train it takes much longer, but it’s a lovely journey.” I point to a small parking lot beside the train station. “You can always rent a truck as needed if you don’t want to wait around for Mabel. ”

The train’s also an impeccable hostess, but I think I’ll let Cath experience that for herself.

A door swings open in front of us, the train welcoming us into one of the passenger cabins. Catherine goes in first but stops dead in her tracks once inside.

“Another bit of magic,” I whisper in her ear, pressing my body to hers.

The interior of the train’s a bit larger than the exterior appears.

A half dozen seating areas with big plush sofas and coffee tables sit on either side of the long train car.

The aisle down the middle’s wide enough for any species of monster, the roof tall enough to accommodate horns like mine, or wings, or whatever.

A train attendant pops round the corner with a welcoming smile. “Welcome to Pine Gulch, where the land kisses the sky! May I offer you a map of the train? Each car is a little different. It’s almost like visiting a haven inside a haven when you ride us.”

I hold back a chuckle at the innuendo in the pixie’s welcome speech. It’s another part of what I love about the Gulch. Everyone here has a sense of humor.

Well, everyone but our sheriff, Bishop Rygold.

Catherine takes the proffered map and thanks the pixie, who pops into small form and zips away. In front of us, the floor beams begin to flip and turn red like a carpet.

I laugh, pointing. “Mabel, the train, will give you the red-carpet treatment all the way until you reach your seat. I picked a spot for us ahead of time, thinking to give you the best view, so follow the red carpet, Sunshine.”

She smiles up at me, eyes full of wonder.

Mabel flipflops a couple more pieces of wooden flooring, catching her attention.

With a laugh, Catherine follows the red flooring down to the far end of the train and a neat little walled booth at the back.

It’s got space for eight or so monsters, but when she takes a seat on the plush velvet bench, I slide in next to her .

When she looks up with a grin, I wink back. “We’ve got an hour to kill before we get to downtown, Sunshine. I’ve got a few ideas how we might do that.”

Pink flushes her cheeks, and she looks around.

I chuckle and bend down, nuzzling at the side of her neck. “I can be very discreet, Catherine. Just don’t scream. That would draw attention.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but the wooden table in front of us begins to morph. The side closest to us flips over, revealing a hand-painted menu.

I pat the table lovingly. “Thank you, Mabel darling. Give us a moment for Catherine’s order; she’s a train newbie. I’d like my usual.”

A tiny purple flag flips up, sticking a little way into the aisle, indicating we’ve submitted a partial order. If it takes Cath more than a couple minutes to figure out her order, the flag’ll turn black and call an attendant to offer suggestions.

Catherine marvels at it all. “This is absolutely marvelous, Manorin!”

I point to the menu. “I’ve never had anything bad on the train. You can’t go wrong, no matter what you pick.”

It takes Catherine another five minutes to decide on a summer sangria. As always, the drinks arrive quickly, delivered by the pixie attendant.

While the train chugs through beautiful Montana countryside, I point out some of the bigger ranches we drive through to get to downtown. We won’t pass through any other towns until we get to downtown Pine Gulch.

Catherine sips her sangria as I debate whether or not to turn and slide my hand up her skirt.

Just as I’m about to do it, the table jostles the train overview packet toward Catherine.

When it lands in her lap, she picks it up in one hand and pats the table lovingly with the other. “Thank you, darling Mabel.”

The table vibrates with excitement .

“Do that vibration on the bench seat, though,” I encourage.

Catherine playfully swats me with the brochure, then snuggles against me and opens it. The very first flap has a stunning picture of the library car, toward the back of the train. “Oh gods, that looks incredible.”

I bend down and nuzzle the top of her head.

“It’s stunning, glass walls and glass roof and nearly sixty thousand books on the shelves, something for everyone no matter what you’re interested in.

It’s also spelled so it looks like you’re at the front of the train.

You can grab a book and drink, sit at the front of the library car, and simply stare out at the Gulch as you go by.

Heaven… I used to do thinking loops around the whole haven whenever I needed to sort out a problem. ”

Catherine rests her head against my chest and looks up at me. “It’s been so long since I’ve traveled, and this trip is already magnificent. Thank you. I can see why you’d have no desire to ever leave this place.”

I wrap an arm around her middle, holding her tightly to me. “Well, you haven’t seen the best parts of the Gulch yet. I haven’t even taken you dancing. You may remember I’m a better-than-average dancer.”

She laughs lightly, rubbing my thigh with one red-nailed hand. “I do seem to remember something like that. The barn dance is tonight…is that right?”

“Mhm.” I tighten my fingers over her soft belly, wanting to dig in and do inappropriate things.

There’s something about having her with me in my home haven that dredges up memories of all the plans I made when she and I first dated.

Plans I didn’t tell her about because I wanted to surprise her.

Things that didn’t work out when we parted ways.

“How long is the ride again?”

“An hour to town.” I stroke her gray waves, breathing her in as I envision her swinging around the wood-plank dance floor I grew up dancing on .

“For today, I think I’d like to just relax here with you. But perhaps on our way back to Ever, we can check out the library car? I’ve got to tell the Hector girls. I think Wren, in particular, would be enthralled by such a thing.”

“Done.” I slide my hand lower, playing at the edge of her skirt. I slip it to the inside of her thigh and move up, up, up. Surprise rushes through me. “No underthings, Cath? My naughty girl.”

She smiles up over her shoulder. “Thought you might appreciate that.”

“Oh yeah.” I snuffle against her shoulder as gentle tan and green hills roll by. “I’m going to thoroughly appreciate it until you’re soaking this bench, Sunshine. Stay quiet, though. I’d hate for the attendant to come over to see what you need.”

She wriggles against me as I cover her with my larger body, sliding the tips of two fingers along her outer pussy lips. She’s as sensitive as ever, soft little moans tumbling from her mouth.

“Quiet, woman,” I remind her, dropping my tone lower. She loves it when I get bossy. Reaching around, I clap one hand lightly over her mouth, the other stroking her softly as she lets one leg fall to the side.

She brings both hands to my forearm and pushes me, trying to get me where she wants me. Footsteps and a throat clearing indicate the arriving attendant, who carefully places our drinks on the table. Thankfully, she can’t see what I’m doing to Catherine around my broad back.

“Will there be anything else, Mister Longhorn?”

I smile over my shoulder at the pixie as I slip a finger into Catherine’s pussy. “That’s all for now, thank you.”

The pixie smiles and flits off to the next purple-flagged table.

“Oh gods,” Catherine manages around my fingers. “More, Manorin. Now.”

“Or what?” I add a second finger and stroke, curling the digits inside her to rub at her G-spot. I want her on the edge before I let her fall over. If I’m lucky, she’ll squirt all over my hand, and I’ll have a mess to clean up before we arrive at our destination.

Maybe I’ll make her come until we get there. Once she’s over the edge, it’s possible to turn her into a blubbering mess of nonstop orgasms. I want it, I decide.

Chuckling at the idea of her soaking my fingers, I bend down and lick a path softly along her exposed neck, nuzzling her skin as I thrust slowly in and out of her. I use the pad of my thumb to rub her clit gently from side to side, pressing enough to activate that most sensitive of nerve bundles.

She rocks against me, legs falling open wider as she claws at my forearm. “Nor, oh gods, anybody could see us!” She’s practically hissing, even as the sound falls off into a moan.

“No one can see you through the booth and my big, hard body, Cath,” I whisper into her ear. “Enjoy yourself, my pretty little succubus. Enjoy watching the Gulch fly by outside as I finger you.”

She groans, the sound cutting off when she remembers where we are.

Her hips rock faster, more desperately as she mewls against me.

I chuckle, delighted by the way she responds to me.

“Fucking you is my favorite thing,” I growl under my breath. “Come for me, pretty girl.”

On cue, she detonates, back arching as she claws at the seat and my arm and anything she can reach. Her nails leave great raised welts under my fur, and all it does is turn me on. I can’t wait to get her into a bed and do more of this.

Stroking her through the orgasm, I wait until she’s a heaving, soaked mess of honey. Murmuring softly, I praise her, telling her what a good, sweet girl she is, how pretty she looked coming on a public train, how much I want to see another orgasm from her .

And then I start it all over, because I’m an asshole who wants more.

I need all of her. I want it. It’s mine, and I’m taking it again, and again, and again.

I shouldn’t let this obsession continue.

I shouldn’t let it build and blossom the way it is.

But if I’m honest with myself, it’s too fucking late.

Far too fucking late.

I am. Obsessed. With. Her.