She’s comfortable on the bed, snuggled up with her cat. At the sight of me, her gaze goes to my cock and stays there, her eyes wide as if she’s just now realizing our size difference. She blinks. Squints. Blinks again. Bites her lip.

Doesn’t look away, though. Not even when I reach over to pick up a towel and dry my arms off, making sure my cock continues to swing free, stabbing at the air with hungry need.

Aspeth sits up slowly, setting the cat on the floor and hanging her legs over the side of the bed. Her expression has changed to thoughtfulness even as she continues to stare at my cock. It prickles with the heat of her gaze, and I can feel pre-cum sliding down the domed head.

“I—” she begins, her voice a croak.

I bite back a chuckle.

She clears her throat and tries again. “I cannot help but think about how you showed me your cock. Would you like to see my body, too?”

“You know I would.” If bulls could purr, I’d be purring right now.

She gets to her feet and tugs at the front of her boxy blouse, at the brown buttons that line the front. It’s the most unflattering of garments on her, but I know what she looks like underneath. I know what she looks like wet. The guild uniform is just a tease. “If I was a bolder sort, I’d make a joke that I welcome critiques.” Aspeth gives me a nervous little half smile, glancing up. “But I confess that I’m an absolute ninny when it comes to my body. If you find something repugnant, please don’t tell me about it. I’m nervous as it is.”

As if I’d ever tell her that she was anything but splendid.

She fiddles with one of the buttons and then glances back at the bed. “Should I be sitting or standing?”

“You should be however you’re comfortable.”

“So in the library with a book upon my lap, then?” she jokes, tossing her blouse to the floor. Next go her boots and stockings, then the trousers she wears. She strips it all off methodically, and when she’s down to nothing but a corset and her thin chemise, she pulls her hair down from its pinned bun and shakes it loose. With trembling hands, she pulls the laces free of her corset and tosses it aside. Her chemise follows after it a moment later.

Then she slides back onto the bed and lies atop it like a corpse at a viewing, her legs tightly together, hands folded at her waist, eyes closed.

It’s not the sexiest of positions, but I’d have to be an idiot not to realize how unsettled she is. I move toward the foot of the bed, giving her space, and eye her pale, plump legs. I like them. I like the rounded curve of her calves, her delicate ankles, and her large feet. She’s tall and solid and made as such, and I’m dying to skim my hand up one strong, thick thigh so I can watch her legs part.

But I can tell she’s nervous. It’s the whole corpse thing, her eyes squeezed shut as if she expects me to take her measurements with a tailor’s tape and tsk over what I find. I curl my fingers around her ankle, lifting it up, and rub her foot.

Her gaze flies open. “Oh—”

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “You’re fine. We’re just a naked married couple in our room together. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“Says you. You’re beautiful.” She watches my hands move over her foot, her gaze heavy-lidded. “You’re covered in muscle. I don’t think I have a single one.”

I bite back the laughter that threatens to huff out of me. “I’m pretty sure I spotted one. At least one.” I let my gaze move over her again, lingering at the gentle swell of her belly. She’s soft here, too, an indication of her pampered life, but I rather like it. I like the thought of cuddling up to pillowy softness in a wife. Her breasts are just as large as I expected them to be. Flat on her back, they pull toward her arms, her nipples dark and prominent and tight. All of her looks soft and touchable, and I can’t stop staring.

“There we go,” I tease. “There’s a muscle.”

She laughs, trying to crane her head to gaze at the foot I’m holding near my chest. “Where?”

I lean in, nuzzling her ankle. “Right here.”

Aspeth whimpers, the sound soft and utterly enticing.

“Is this all right?” I ask, even as I run my muzzle against her soft skin. “Or should I stop?”

“I’m fine,” she promises, breathless. Her fingers twist in the blankets at her sides and she watches me with parted lips. “You…my…this is fine. All fine.”

I drag my mouth against her skin. She’s so damned soft. So pettable. “I wanted you to touch me the other day. All you did was look.”

“Oh,” Aspeth breathes, and her flush goes right down to her pretty tits. They jiggle as she shivers, her nipples tightening, and I nip at her calf. “I wasn’t bold enough. Not yet.”

“I’m bold,” I tell her bluntly. “Can I touch you more? Or are you not ready for that yet?”

The look in her eyes grows soft. Sensual. Her hands clench the blankets again. “You can touch me.”

Good. Because I’m aching, my cock as hard as stone. This is about easing her into pleasure, though, and I’m dying to touch her. I want to run my hands all over her skin, to feel her quiver when I caress her. I want to show her what it’s like to be in bed with a Taurian. That she’s not going to miss out on a single thing. That I can make her feel better than any human can, if she’ll just give me a chance.

And now’s my chance. I push her thighs apart, spreading her legs, and lower my head between her thighs before she has time to think about what I’m doing.

Aspeth squeaks in surprise the moment my tongue brushes over her skin. The thing with Taurians? We have long, mobile, thick tongues. I can lick my own eyebrows, if I’m so inclined, and human men can’t compete with a Taurian who knows how to use what he’s got. Kissing be damned. I’ve got better things to do with my mouth. Leaning in, I drag my tongue over her entire pussy in one smooth stroke.

Her breath hitches and then a moan escapes her. “You…oh…”

“You said you’d been touched before, Aspeth. How much?” With the tip of my tongue, I tease her cleft open, rubbing against the bud of her clit and making her squirm. “Did your human lover do that to you?”

“He—he touched my thigh,” she babbles, her fingers gripping the blanket next to her hips. “No tongue. I—I thought you were going to touch me with your hands.”

“Tsk. You’re going to have to be more specific, wife.” I flick my tongue over her cunt again, and she shivers in response. “Tell me if you want me to stop, then. If this is too much for you.”

“Not too much,” she breathes, and then parts her thighs wider, bending her legs at the knees. “Do you…should I…”

“You stay right there and let me taste you.” I run a hand along the inside of her thigh, watching her reaction, and then lap at her cunt again. The taste of her hits my senses—musky and somehow sweet. She moans again, her hands fluttering toward me before settling back down to the bed.

With amusement, I grab one of her hands and place it firmly on my shoulder. “You can grab the horns, if you like.”

Her fingers curl against my skin and her eyes flutter closed. I tap my tongue against her clit again, and she arches. “You…no, that’s really good. Really, really good. You can do that all you want.” Aspeth’s voice takes on a dreamy quality. “Feels so nice.”

I’m both amused and offended by her commentary. “Nice” isn’t what a bull wants to hear when he tongues his wife. He wants to have her screaming. But Aspeth is a little more virginal than I’d expected, so I need to go slow. Make sure she doesn’t get overwhelmed.

Which is fine, because it allows me to savor every moment of this. I love the squirming she does with every tap of my tongue. I love the taste of her, as soft and delicate as her skin. My cock throbs in time with my pulse, dripping pre-cum all over the floor and the edge of the bed, but I can’t be bothered with such trivialities. I’ve got my muzzle between my wife’s thighs and everything else in the world—including my own pleasure—can wait for a bit. I push her legs into the air and wrap my hand around the base of my cock, squeezing to stop myself from coming before she does.