He moans or mumbles something, but I’m not really sure, with his mouth too busy to craft words, let alone complete sentences. I move up and down slowly, letting him relish it all.
“I’m staring at your gorgeous cock. You’re so hard. So ready. You’re leaking precum. I can’t wait to taste it. Feel it. Ride it. Have you fill me up.”
With one free hand, Magnus reaches down, props his dick up, and gives it a slow stroke. He pulls back the foreskin, revealing the glistening tip, and I can’t help but smile—remembering how he decorated my face in his office.
“Is your dick feeling left out?” I tease. “Okay, Mags, I think it’s time for?—”
He freezes, pulling back just enough to speak. “What did you call me?”
Crap.
“It just slipped out. Sorry. Do you… hate it?”
I scramble down next to him before the moment can crack open too wide, pressing my face against the warm strength of his neck.
His arms tighten around me, holding me in place like he’s afraid I’ll take it back. “No,” he says, voice softer than usual. “I… love it. I’ve just never had a nickname before. Never had anyone… give me one.”
I pull back and meet his big brown eyes. They’re overflowing with sweetness. He looks almost… undone—this giant, gorgeous Minotaur—and it makes my chest tingle in the best possible way.
“Mags,” I whisper again, softer this time, like a prayer. And his smile, small and unguarded, just about wrecks me.
“Mags,” he repeats.
I roll on top of him, his hands holding me in place, asI kiss his chin. I take a tiny nibble at the soft fur there, and I feel his cock pulse against my leg.
“Can I?” I ask, brushing my shin back against it.
He nods, and I slide down, turning. His hand follows—firm, possessive—moving from my back to my waist, keeping my ass within reach.
With both hands, I grasp his dick, giving it a few slow strokes.
“Look how wet your cock is for me.”
I’m only able to wait a few pumps before I’m licking the tip, tasting his musky precum, and then, like a ravenous animal, I’m swallowing it. More than last time, sooner, quicker. Gulping. Slurping. Soft moans escape my lips because he fills me so deep it borders on worship.
“That’s it, Jamie. Suck me, little man.”
I huff a laugh through my nose. Little man. I’m almost six feet tall. Most people wouldn’t dare say that to me seriously—but next to him? Yeah, it works.
My throat opens, and I take more of Magnus than last time. Not quite four-fifths, but close enough. Who says fractions don’t come in handy after high school?
I swirl my tongue over the tip, using both hands to stroke while I pay attention to the head. This does something to Magnus. He’s growling. Moaning. When I reach down and massage his balls, he thrusts up, desperate for more. Feeling brave, I let my fingers go further, teasing his hole just the slightest bit, and he whimpers. Magnus Trainor fucking whimpers.
“Oh, do you like that? Your little man playing with your hairy hole?”
“Yeah, I do, actually.” His tail snaps once against the floor like it’s got a mind of its own. “Nobody’s ever… even thought about it.”
I turn to face him. “Magnus Trainor. Listen to me. I’m not here for some CEO domination fantasy—though, hey, I’m not opposed to that being part of things. I’m here for you. This.” I reach up and press my palm to his chest, right over his heart, and feel it pounding beneath my touch. “You. All of you.”
His stare is so intense I almost flinch, but then it softens, like he’s letting something break open that he usually keeps locked tight.
“Jamie…” He covers my hand with his massive one, holding it there against his chest like he never wants me to let go.
For a moment, the room goes quiet except for our breathing. His eyes shine, and it hits me—this isn’t just about sex for him anymore. Not about dominance or play. It’s about us. About wanting everything.
And the way he leans in, brushing his forehead to mine, I know he’s ready to ask for more.
“I really want to fuck you.”
