A Virgin for the Minotaur
A tale of reluctant monster erotic romance by Francis Ashe
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Rough, hard hands closed first around her throat and slid down Adria’s body to her waist. She grimaced as fingertips bi deep into the flesh on her sides. She tried to roll away, first to the left and then the right, but there was no escape.
Get away, get away, just run.
She pushed against the hard, muscled chest of whatever it was that pinned her, but the man, or the creature, she wasn’t quite sure, was far too strong. A kick to the shin hurt her more than it did the monster that moved one of his huge, hands to her shoulder and the other around to the small of her back. Behind her, cold stone kissed her flesh and in her front, hot breath that came in snorts at once terrified and thrilled her. Adria’s whole body was warm, she realized, prickled from head to toe with goose bumps.
“What are you?” She whispered.
No answer. Another hot jet of air caressed her throat.
“Si...lence,” the thing moaned. Its voice unearthly, like nothing she had ever heard. It rumbled deep and horrible off the walls, and made her belly vibrate with each syllable. She sucked in another breath of the curiously heavy air that seemed to hang thick through the whole place.