Page 5 of The Minotaur’s Maze (Bathhouse Beasts #3)
"Such tension," he murmured, his massive hands coming to rest on my shoulders. His fingers began to knead the knotted muscles, and I couldn't help the moan that escaped me. "Your body carries far too much pain that doesn’t belong to you."
His thumbs dug into pressure points I didn't know existed, and pain bloomed briefly before melting into relief. I let my head fall forward, surrendering to his touch.
"That's it," he encouraged, working his way down my spine. "Let go. Give in to me.”
His hands were magic, finding every knot, every point of tension I'd been carrying. When he reached my lower back, I was practically swaying on my feet, drunk on the sensation of finally, finally releasing the physical manifestation of my stress.
"Lie on the altar," he instructed, guiding me forward.
The stone should have been cold, but it was warm beneath my skin as I stretched out on my stomach. The surface was smoother than it had appeared, worn by time and use into something that cradled my body perfectly.
Lakovos’s hands returned to my body, this time with something slick and fragrant coating them. Oil, I realized, as he worked it into my skin with long, firm strokes.
The oil's warmth spread through me, carrying hints of sandalwood and something earthy I couldn't identify. His massive hands worked their way down my legs, each stroke unwinding years of tension. I moaned softly against the stone, my body melting under his skilled touch.
"That's it," he murmured, his voice rumbling through me. "Let everything go."
When he reached my feet, he massaged each one thoroughly, his thumbs pressing into pressure points that seemed connected to every part of my body. I'd never experienced anything like it. It was as if he knew my physical form better than I did.
"Turn over," he commanded gently.
I obeyed without hesitation, rolling onto my back. My cock was fully hard now, jutting up toward my stomach. I should have felt exposed, vulnerable, but instead I felt seen in a way I never had before.
Lakovos stood at the foot of the altar, his amber eyes glowing as they traveled over my body. His own massive cock had thickened, hanging heavy between his powerful thighs.
"Beautiful," he said, and I felt myself flush with pleasure at the simple praise.
He began working up my legs again, his oil-slicked hands moving with deliberate slowness. When he reached my inner thighs, I instinctively spread my legs wider, inviting him to touch me where I needed it most. But he bypassed my cock entirely, continuing up to my stomach and chest.
"Please," I whispered, my hips lifting slightly off the stone.
"Patience," he rumbled, a hint of amusement in his deep voice. "Tonight is about more than just release. It's about surrender."
His massive hands worked over my chest, thumbs circling my nipples until they hardened into sensitive peaks. When he pinched one lightly, I gasped, arching into his touch.
"Good boy," he praised. "Don’t hold those sounds back."
I basked in his words, letting them wash over me like physical caresses. My cock throbbed, untouched but harder than I could remember being in years.
"Tell me what you want, Julian," Lakovos said, one hand sliding down to rest just above my groin, tantalizingly close.
"Touch me," I breathed. "Please."
"Where?" he asked, his voice gentle but commanding. "Be specific. Tell me exactly what you need."
The directness of his question broke through my hesitation. "My cock. I want you to touch my cock. Please."
His smile was approving. "Good boy."
His massive hand wrapped around my shaft, and I moaned at the contact, my hips bucking involuntarily. His grip was perfect, firm but not too tight, slick with oil that made his strokes glide effortlessly.
"Look at you," he murmured. "So beautiful when you give in."
I whimpered as he stroked me with a rhythm that seemed to match my heartbeat, his massive hand engulfing my cock completely. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making my toes curl and my back arch off the warm stone.
"That's it," he rumbled, his free hand coming to rest on my chest, pinning me gently to the altar. "Let me hear how good it feels."
I hadn't realized how loud my moans had become, echoing off the hedge walls surrounding us. But with his encouragement, I stopped trying to hold back, letting every gasp and whimper escape freely.
"Please," I begged, though I wasn't even sure what I was begging for. More? Release? Something deeper?
Lakovos seemed to understand my incoherent plea. His strokes slowed, becoming more deliberate, his thumb circling the sensitive head of my cock on each upstroke. Pre-cum leaked from my tip, mixing with the oil to create an exquisite slickness.
"Not yet," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I want to taste you first."
Before I could process his words, he was moving, his massive form shifting until his bull's head was level with my groin. The sight of him poised there, those powerful horns framing his face, those amber eyes locked on mine, nearly made me cum on the spot.
"Hold still for me," he commanded, his hot breath ghosting over my sensitive skin.
His tongue, longer and wider than any human's, lapped at the underside of my cock in one broad stroke from base to tip. I cried out, my hands flying to grip the edges of the altar.
"Oh god," I gasped, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.
Lakovos chuckled, the vibration traveling through his tongue as he repeated the motion. "No gods here, Julian. Just you and me."
His massive hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them. The vulnerability of the position should have made me nervous, but all I felt was anticipation, a desperate need for more of his touch, his taste, his attention.
When his mouth finally enveloped me, I thought I might pass out from the pleasure.
The heat was incredible, his tongue wrapping around my shaft in ways that defied human anatomy.
He took me completely, my entire length disappearing into that impossible mouth, surrounded by wet heat and gentle suction.
"Fuck," I moaned, one hand moving to rest atop his head, fingers brushing against the base of a horn. The texture was smooth, warm like living bone.
He hummed around my cock, clearly pleased by my reaction. His massive hands slid beneath me, cupping my ass and lifting me slightly to improve his angle. The display of strength, the ease with which he manipulated my body, sent a thrill through me that was equal parts intimidation and arousal.
I watched, mesmerized, as his head bobbed between my thighs, those magnificent horns swaying with each movement.
His tongue worked magic around my shaft, curling and uncurling in ways that made my toes curl and my breath catch.
Every nerve ending in my body seemed to be connected directly to where his mouth engulfed me.
"Lakovos," I gasped, my fingers tightening around his horn. "I'm going to?—"
He pulled back, releasing me with a wet sound that should have been obscene but somehow wasn't. My cock throbbed in the cool air, achingly hard and glistening with his saliva.
"Not yet," he rumbled, his amber eyes glowing with hunger. "I want to taste all of you first."
Before I could ask what he meant, his massive hands were flipping me over with effortless strength, positioning me on my stomach. I felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that sent shivers of anticipation through me.
"Raise your hips," he commanded, his voice gentle but brooking no argument.
I obeyed, pushing myself up on my knees while keeping my chest pressed against the warm stone. The position left me completely open to him, my most intimate places on display. I should have felt embarrassed, but instead, I felt a strange liberation in my surrender.
“Good boy,” he murmured.
His large hands spread my cheeks, and I tensed momentarily, uncertain of what was coming. Then I felt it, the warm, wet press of his tongue against my entrance. I gasped, my entire body jerking at the unexpected sensation.
"Relax," he murmured, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. "Let me in, Julian."
I forced myself to breathe, to surrender to the strange, intense pleasure of his tongue circling my hole.
Each broad lick sent sparks shooting up my spine, making my cock throb where it hung heavy between my legs.
When he finally pushed inside, just the tip of that impossible tongue breaching me, I moaned so loudly it echoed through the clearing.
"That's it," he praised, pulling back slightly. "You’re such a good boy and so beautiful when you give in."
His tongue returned, more insistent now, working me open with patient, thorough strokes.
I lost myself in the sensation, my world narrowing to the point where his mouth connected with my body.
Time became meaningless, it could have been minutes or hours that he spent worshipping me with his tongue, but it didn’t matter.
All I could think about was the pleasure and the fleeting thought that I should do this more often.
It had been far too long since I’d been on the receiving end of things.
When one thick finger replaced his tongue, slick with oil that hadn't been there before, I barely noticed the transition. My body accepted him easily, relaxed and open from his attention. The slight burn of the stretch only heightened my pleasure.
"More," I begged, pushing back against his hand. "Please, I need more."
"Patience," he rumbled, but I heard the smile in his voice. "You’ll get everything you desire in time."
A second finger joined the first, stretching me further.
He worked them in and out with deliberate slowness, curling them to brush against my prostate with each thrust. My cock leaked steadily onto the stone beneath me, the dual sensations of fullness and that perfect pressure inside making me tremble.