Page 49 of The Alien Minotaur's Bride

My body knew things before I did. It always had. The stillness in the cargo bay when I first smelled him. The way I leaned into his touch before I'd decided to trust him. The nest-building instinct, the heat responses, the production that came easier with him than without.

This was just one more thing. My body knew how to carry this weight. My body knew how to move through the space it needed. My body had already worked out what I was becoming.

My mind was just catching up.

His horns were warm under my palms.

We were in the nest – where else? – his bulk settled behind me, his hands running over my belly in slow circles. The afternoon milking had eased the pressure in my breasts, and now we were simply lying together, his scent close around me, his heartbeat steady against my back.

I shifted, turning to face him, and my hands found his horns without conscious decision.

He went rigid.

I remembered this – the discovery from weeks ago, the knowledge I'd stored very carefully. His horns were sensitive. Intensely sensitive. Touching them produced an immediate, visceral, full-body response.

I ran my palms along the curve of them, tracing from the base above his temples up towards the tips. The surface was smooth, dense, warm from blood flow. His breath caught. His tail lashed once, sharp and uncontrolled.

"Mara...”

"Shh." I gripped harder, pressing my fingers into the sensitive ridges near the base. "Let me."

The sound that tore out of him had no words in it. A groan, a growl, something between the two – pulled from deep in his chest, involuntary and raw. His whole body shuddered, his hands clenching in the furs beneath us.

I had him.

This enormous Khorreth alpha, eight and a half feet of muscle and horn and protective fury – and I had him completely undone with my hands.

I stroked along the curve again, slower this time, letting him feel every inch. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in sharp gasps. When I reached the tips and circled back down, pressing into the base, his hips jerked forward involuntarily.

"Please...” His voice was wrecked. "Mara, I can't – if you keep–"

"You can." I leaned in, pressing my lips to the spot just below his horn where the texture changed from smooth to rough. "Let go."

He let go.

His whole body arched, a roar tearing from his throat, his tail thrashing wildly. I felt the shudder run through him – release, pure and overwhelming, pulled from him by nothing but my hands on his horns. He came without being touched anywhere else, his cock pulsing against my thigh, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me close as the waves crashed through him.

I held on through all of it. Kept my hands on his horns, kept stroking, kept him locked in the sensation until he finally collapsed against the furs, breathing hard.

"Stars," he managed. "Mara. That was–"

"I know." I smiled against his fur. "I've been saving that."

His laugh was breathless, broken.

"You have power over me," he said. "You know that."

"I know." I traced one finger along the curve of his horn, light and teasing, and felt him shiver. "I'm keeping it."

Night settled over the dwelling.

I was in the nest, on all fours, the position that had become natural over the past weeks. My belly hung heavy beneath me, my breasts swaying with each breath, my body entirely at ease in a posture I would have found humiliating months ago.

Keth was behind me, his hands running over my hips, my back, my sides. His touch was warm and steady, checking on me the way he did every night – making sure I was comfortable, making sure the weight wasn't causing strain, making sure I had everything I needed.

His hooves had been quiet in the corridor when he came to find me. They were always quiet at night. He moved through the dwelling like a ghost when he didn't want to wake me, his bulk somehow made graceful by the care he took.

I felt his hands settle on my belly, cradling the curve from behind.