Page 26 of Runaway Hucow

She thought about what Spike had said yesterday by the river, just before he’d put his mouth on her. Ma’am, it sure does seem like a shame to let your milk go to waste. The big bisonman would probably be unhappy about her emptying her milk into a chamber pot. Then again, he didn’t need to find out. After she was finished, she would carry it to the outhouse and dump it.

But first, she needed to get things started, and she decided to stay in bed for that. Once she got her milk flowing a little bit, she would climb out of bed and finish the job into the pot.

Tess piled up the pillows at the head of the bed and propped herself against them. Then she pulled down the covers to expose her aching chest, and she got to work. She tried to emulate the technique Spike had used on her yesterday, but her hands were so much smaller than the bisonman’s, and her own touch didn’t excite her the way his had. After a few minutes of effort, all she had managed to do was hurt herself even more. Her breasts had grown terribly tender, and her hard nipples were so sensitive, she hissed a little each time she tried to play with them. Tears of pain and frustration began welling in her eyes.

She remembered the way Spike had used his mouth on her. Could she do that to herself?

There was only one way to find out.

It wasn’t easy getting her own nipple up to her mouth, but with both hands and a bit of hefting, she managed to make it happen. It felt strange, suckling herself like this, but the wet warmth of her tongue did feel good against her hard nipple, and when she closed her eyes and imagined it was Spike’s tongue instead, it felt even better. She sucked and licked, and after a few seconds, it started happening.

A creamy sweetness was spreading across her tongue.

It was only a few drops, but at least it was a start. She decided to keep at it for a little while longer. Once she had a good flow going, she would hop out of bed and squeeze the rest of her milk into the chamber pot. Then she would do the same for the other side. She continued to suckle and think about Spike.

And then, out of nowhere, she caught herself thinking about Peyton too.

Tess felt a little ashamed about that. A girl shouldn’t need two minotaurs. That just seemed flat greedy. Though she had to admit, the younger bisonman did look really handsome with those spectacles that he wore, and his smooth, easy voice stirred something inside her. A few times at supper last night, it had seemed as though Peyton had been flirting with her, and Spike hadn’t seemed to mind one bit.

Tess moaned softly as she suckled, sometimes thinking of Peyton, sometimes of Spike, and after a few minutes her milk started flowing more steadily. When she finally got a good mouthful, she swallowed it down and prepared to climb out of bed to use the chamber pot.

As soon as she opened her eyes, however, she froze with a gasp.

The door to her bedroom, which had previously been closed, was now standing wide open, and a great dark figure was filling the frame. The bisonman was standing there in his tight britches and nothing else, with a bowl in one hand, a mug in the other, and a devilish smirk on his face.

“Spike!” Tess yelped, pulling the covers up to cover her bare breasts. “What are you doing?”

“Just enjoying the view, ma’am.”

Enjoying it a lot from the looks of it. Tess could see the perfect outline of his hard shaft going down one leg of his britches. Her heart raced at the sight of his obvious arousal, and she could feel the blood beating in the tips of her breasts and down between her legs as well. Heat rushed up her neck and flooded her face with shame.

“How long have you been standing there?” She scowled, trying to mask her embarrassment with anger. “Long enough, I suppose.”

“Not long enough in my opinion, ma’am.”

That smirk. That damned infuriating smirk. Tess wanted to jump up and slap it right off his handsome face. Then she wanted to kiss it. Then he wanted to straddle it with her legs and ride it bareback till she was coming all over him.

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” She was using her anger to mask other feelings now.

Spike stepped inside the room and came strolling toward her. Tess tried her level best not to gape at the way his muscles bunched and shifted as he moved. She could feel herself getting wet beneath the covers. Extremely wet.

“Sorry, ma’am. I thought you might still be sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, and the whole mattress shifted under his enormous weight. “I, uh… brought you some porridge and coffee.”

He showed her the bowl. Fresh hot oatmeal dressed up with an assortment of wild berries and a generous lump of brown sugar. It looked and smelled heavenly. The steam curling off the top of the coffee mug smelled even better.

But right now, it wasn’t oatmeal Tess needed, nor was it coffee. She needed him. His hands. His mouth. His body.

The smug bastard knew it too.

“You did this to me on purpose, didn’t you?” Tess said.

Spike looked at her, genuinely confused. “What do you mean, ma’am?”

“You let me sleep in your bed, knowing damn well your scent was all over the sheets. You knew it was going to drive me wild, so I’d need your help this morning.”

“That’s not my bed, ma’am.”

“It’s not?”