Page 9 of Taken By the Twins

One second, the ghost of some figure was a black mass of shadows with very indistinct features. The next? It—he—solidifies into a monstrous-looking guy.

And I don’t mean ugly. Even as I flinch, recoiling away from his outstretched claws, I don’t think he’sugly. Different, definitely. His skin is a deep red color, his hair as black as ink and longer than mind as it spills in a sheet down his back. He has horns the same color, arching up and over his head. His muscles have fucking muscles, he’s that ripped, and if he’s anything shy of seven feet tall, I’ll eat my stiletto heel.

He has ridges over his brow. Nothing covers his chest, though my initial panicked inspection reveals that his lower half is covered in the same shadows that made him up only seconds ago.

And his eyes…

His eyes are the strangest part of a strange ass monsterthing. I don’t know what he is, a demon or what, but his eyes make mystomach go queasy, and my brain catch up to what I’m seeing in front of me enough for my fight or flight instinct to kick in.

He has two different colored eyes. They’re both glowing brightly out of his dark face, one of them a vivid white, the other undeniablypurple.

The monster says something to me in a surprisingly soft voice. Do I know what it is? Fuck, no. It’s in that same strange language, and I’m too busy screaming inside of my head to make out anything he’s telling me.

So I decide to scream out loud. That seems like the thing to do, right? Scream bloody murder so that the monster decides that I’m too much trouble to gobble up.

Because, trust me. I’ve been with enough guys to know when someone is imagining serving you up on a silver platter, and this monster? Whether he wants to eat me oreatme, I don’t know, but I avoid his outstretched hand—Claws, I think, look at those freaking two inch-longclaws—just in time to turn and bolt in any other direction than where he is.

Big mistake, Tandy. Big, big mistake.

Because the second I turn, I end up right in the embrace of someone as big, as solid, and as physically hot to the touch as I’m bettering the other monster is.

His arms close around me for a fleeting second. At that moment, I feel safe, but it lasts half as long as that second. Safe? How can I be safe when there are two of them?

Holy shit, Tandy, there aretwoof them.

I back up, nearly falling thanks to my three-inch heels, and I spin, searching from one of the monsters to its—his—twin.

There is not a single doubt in my mind that, whoever they are…whateverthey are… they’re identical twins. Hang on… no. Not identical. While each of these two demonic-looking beasts have one purple eye, one white eye, it’s the reverse on theother. Like they’re mirror images, only instead of looking at their brother, they’re looking atme.

The first monster says something.

His twin responds.

I whimper, realizing that I brought these two hear with that stupid fucking spell, and now I’m trapped between them.

One of the monsters is at my back. The other is stalking toward me, but he’s so bulky, he’s basically blocking me from leaving the living room through the door that’ll lead to the hall. He’s big, but his steps are careful, and I know without knowing how, if I make a break for it, he’s quick and nimble enough to stop me.

So I don’t go anywhere. I stand between them, pretending like they’re T-rexes or something, and that if I don’t move, they won’t see me.

I wish that worked. It doesn’t of course. Just because they’re speaking to each other in another language doesn’t mean they’re unintelligent. I don’t think they are. There’s intent in every move they make, and an emotion that is so similar to human desire, my knees go a little weak.

That proves to be my downfall. I stumble, and the second I do, the two of them areright there.

One of the big red monsters takes my right hand. The other grabs my left.

I don’t know what happens next, or how to explain it really. Though there’s something strangely alluring about their chiseled features, their height, their sculpted chests, and their mismatched eyes, and I’ve been know to be attracted to anyone with a cock and a pulse—and if they’re proportionate in size, they’ve got to have monster dongs under their strange leather-like pants—this isinsane.

I can’t want to fuck a monster. Like, I have to have limits.

And yet… the moment their heated flesh touches mine, I don’t scream again. I don’t try to fight. I let them grab me, a rush of arousal making me just as hot as these two, and when they tug on my arms, it isn’t until they’re carrying me through the fiery portal that I even worry about being burned to a crisp until it’s too late.

I survive.

There were flames. I swear there were. But the second I’m yanked through the portal, they seem to disappear. At the very least, I’m not burned, though when I find solid ground beneath my heels again, the room is so warm, I immediately start to swelter.

I’m inside somewhere. Where? No fucking clue. It’s a somewhat bare space, twice the size of my hotel room, with an empty silver-looking bathtub on one side of the room, a table made out of dark wood on another, and a huge—and I meanhuge—bean bag looking thing with a fur-like covering serving as a blanket taking up most of the space.

There’s a window, too, and I slip out of their hold before they can increase their grip on me. I can squirm when necessary, and I’ve spent the last fifteen years on heels so they don’t slow me down at all.

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