The Red(46)
It stepped closer yet, so close she felt the heat radiating from it. Against the stone she shook and shivered. A hand extended-a human hand, thank God-from within the red cloak. It was huge, this hand, muscular and veined like Malcolm's, but even larger. The hand touched her face gently, so gently. It stroked her quivering lips and dabbed at the tears on her cheek. The Minotaur seemed to be trying to soothe her and calm her. He-no longer "it," for there was a man in there, no matter how distorted-caressed her hair, the line of her jaw, her ears. Her heart rate slowed. Her eyes fluttered. What was he doing to her? Hypnotizing her? She felt calmer than she ever had in her life. It was like a trance, like a waking sleep. Her body went slack against the boulder as if it were the softest of beds, not the hardest of stones. The man in the red cloak extended his other hand. He slid it behind her, cradling her head in his massive palm to protect it from the hard unforgiving rock she lay chained against.
"Malcolm?" she whispered, hoping he would respond in some way, letting her know that somehow this was him even if the drug he'd given her had turned him into this funhouse mirror version of himself, so much larger than any normal man. Though he said nothing and did nothing to reveal himself, she sensed it was Malcolm. Something in the way his fingers touched her face told her it was him. She was not afraid anymore. They were playing at human sacrifice tonight, he the beast and she the offering. He the Minotaur, and she Dora. It was only another game.
The man stepped so close his cloak brushed her naked skin. She shivered at the contact, the soft prickle of the velvet on her bare legs, a sensation delicious to her heightened senses. As he positioned himself between her open thighs, she searched out any sign of his face within the hood of the cloak, but the cowl and the darkness obscured his features from her. Somehow, the hidden face was far more unsettling than the leather bull mask she'd pictured.
The enormous hand touching her face moved to her right breast. The Minotaur took the nipple in his fingers and pinched it, then pulled lightly on it. Yes, it was Malcolm, or some version of him. It had to be. This was how he touched her, possessively, without warning or apology. Her breast seemed so small in the massive hand that fondled it. She was grateful for the hand behind her head as she squirmed in her chains. He fondled her other breast next, groping it, squeezing and pawing at it. The rough treatment aroused her though she didn't want it to. She extended a leg into the folds of his cloak and felt a rock hard male thigh. She raised her other leg and found another thigh. It was warm within his cloak. His skin was shockingly hot to the touch and in the cool night air she craved that heat. The man grunted as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and his hot breath blew over her face. The hand on her breast slipped between her legs. He probed with his fingers, seeking her wetness and finding it. He pushed his thumb and forefinger inside her. She moaned like an animal when he spread his fingers apart at the opening of her body, then did it again deeper. He was preparing her to receive his cock. She felt the organ now, massive as the rest of him. It pressed against her inner thigh, hotter even than the rest of his body, dripping fluid and hard as the stone behind her. She craved it terribly, even though its exaggerated size scared her.
He removed his hand and notched the tip of the organ at the slit of her vulva. It was too big to fit. It would tear her open if she took it. She shrank from it, but there was nowhere to hide or run. The man lowered his cloaked head to her chest and flicked his tongue across her nipple. It felt strange, not like Malcolm's tongue or mouth on her. It was oddly cold, but not unpleasantly so. Over and over again he lapped at her nipple and licked the entire breast with long strokes. With each flick and lick of the tongue, the man's massive member eased a little deeper into her hole. Mona rocked her hips to take even more of it. The Minotaur grunted again, an inhuman sound that would have scared her had she not been so lost in the pleasure of the penetration. Deep vaginal muscles groaned in protest as his great organ split her apart, pushing the walls open as it burrowed further into her. With her legs fastened tight around him, she anchored herself and worked her hips up and down. The pleasure was unholy. She went wild with it. He rose up and thrust into her. She cried out as he filled her completely, more completely than she'd ever been filled. She couldn't bear it. She had to have it out of her. A spurt of his seed hit her cervix and she orgasmed suddenly from the incredible force and heat of it. He thrust again and the slick seed inside her eased his passage. The enormous organ moved far more easily inside her now that he'd ejaculated. And yet it seemed the fierce coupling had only begun.