2.75⭐
This book was the equivalent of ordering a forbidden late-night snack—messy, questionable, and precisely what you craved at the moment… even if it left you a little hungry afterwards.
I mean—Minotaur Sugar Daddies. You don’t walk into that title expecting subtlety. You walk in expecting chaos, horns, and some decadent monster-loving mayhem. And this did deliver on the vibes: it was fun, flirty, occasionally feral, and very aware of its own absurdity.
But here’s the thing: it was mostly breadcrumbs. Teasing little tastes of what could have been an unhinged banquet of delight. And I wanted that banquet. I was ready for it. Instead, I got a cute little sampler platter hiding the good stuff at the bottom.
Jonas and Henry? Oh, I loved them. Tender beastie boys with way too much potential to be stuck in a storyline that played it safe. I needed more of them. More depth. More heat. More sugar. More daddy.
In the end, it didn’t fully feed the craving—but damn if it didn’t flirt with the idea. Would I go back for another bite if there’s a sequel? Probably. Sometimes, a little chaos in a weird wrapper is exactly the flavour I’m in the mood for.