Page 76 of Monster

My eyes moved down to my hand. The one I had splayed across his chest. The scars, though not as noticeable unless you knew where to look, seemed even more obvious in the sunlight of this room.

I looked away from it and at his face once more.

Slowly, I moved my hand up, my fingers exploring all the warmth and hardness of the male body next to me. I traced the outline of the kneeling angel tattoo on his right pec. I remembered he had another tattoo on his rib, one of a skull wearing a crown—the symbol of the King’s Men MC.

My fingers moved up to his throat, feeling my own clog up a bit at the sight of the size of it.

It would be impossible for me to choke him, but—but…

One of his large hands could wrap comfortably around my neck. I should be scared of that thought alone. Instead, I was restless at the image of him choking me slightly as he moved inside me.

I swallowed.

I didn’t think I had a choking kink.

Though what would I know?

A mere two bed partners didn’t make me an expert, and the first man had turned out to be an abusive asshole.

I let my fingers come up to the rough stubble along his jaw.

Dominic didn’t keep a beard the way I had thought men in a motorcycle club did, but he wasn’t clean-shaven either.

I didn’t think I had ever seen him clean-shaven, and I didn’t mind that too much.

I loved the roughness on him. It was so different from all the men I’d known back home, including my own father.

I touched his strong nose, moving a finger up the prominent bridge and between his dark, perfectly shaped eyebrows. A small scar cut through his left eyebrow. It looked like it had happened from a fight.

A man like Dominic wouldn’t be without scars. Yet, somehow, those scars seemed to only make him more of a man, while the scars that I had…

They brought nothing but shame.

My eyes roamed over his short hair, cut into a buzz cut that only added to the roughness of the man.

My fingers moved down to his lips.

I traced the edges, surprised by the softness of them, though I shouldn’t be.

They were soft when I kissed him.

My lips tingled from the memory, and—

His eyes sprang open.

My own eyes widened, and I quickly took my hand away. His blue eyes, soft from sleep, moved over me, and his lips slowly curved into a smile that had me blushing.

I opened my mouth to say—what, I didn’t know, when the hand that had been cupping my breast came to life, and he squeezed me. The first time could have been an accident. The second time, I didn’t think so.

I should stop him. Or pull away.

Instead, I lay there and looked at him when he used his fingers and pulled on my nipple roughly.

My chest pushed in and out harshly, and I bit my bottom lip when he did it again, and again, and fuck…

Again.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice gruff. “Look at how you fucking respond to me. Are you wet for me, wildcat?”

---