Heart-Under-Blade felt the shiver travel down every last segment of her spine, a closing her eyes for but a moment and shifting in place, the large red dress of hers having spread across the dirtied factory floor as a bright backdrop to every motion the woman made. Mouth opened wide, lips closing over a thick, condensed line of bestial sweat right over the ridge and sucking it up. The taste alone made her shiver, shoulders tensing up and shuddering -- but not of disgust. All she experienced was sheer, concentrated masculinity. Her tongue dragged and scooped up more in ever-increasing and aching need to engorge herself in it, polishing one square inch of bull-dick after another without ever taking her silken hands away from the pair of enormous, hot-to-the-touch balls hanging beneath. God, they felt as big as her head.

Now that she thought of it, the difference in stature sank into her mind -- and through it, into her body. Kiss-Shot's hips squirmed with their own urges while she insisted on breathing, panting, moaning against something so thick and unbridled, wild and untamed. She should've bitten. She should've drained the beast's power. Instead, every last speck of dried up sweat that she licked off the skin like a fucking skank hammered down on her willpower and capacity for any kind of thought, chiseling it away. She began working her way down the shaft, admittedly giving some bias underneath where the thickest, hottest vein ran and stimulated it incessantly with kisses and dragging licks. What was at first a sharp, predatory glare had softened into a more obedient and willing look, searching for an answer from the minotaur's dark, furious gaze.

Could she please, PLEASE have more?