Page 67 of Monsters' Manor

“Yes,” I cry, desperate for it. “Yes,please.”

A shadow tightens around my neck, not cutting off my air, but carefully placed to constrict my blood flow. Just a little. Just enough to make my head swim with pleasure.

A few more shadows wrap around my chest and torso, supporting me, while more darkness encircles my wrists to bind them behind my back.

I’m completely at my monsters’ mercy.

“Look how pretty you are, Rosemary, all trussed up in my shadows,” Silas says, then sinks his cock into me, filling me in one swift stroke. “You’re beautiful, darling.”

I cry out again, a hoarse, shattered thing in the October night.

Ren grips my hair a moment later, bringing my lips to his cock. I open eagerly for him, moaning around him as he buries himself in my mouth.

The two of them work me like that, finding a rhythm that bounces me between them. I’m helpless in their hands, but like every time we’ve been together since that very first night, I trust them completely. I trust them to hold me, to take care of me, to drive me out of my fucking mind with pleasure and to be there to pick up the satisfied pieces after I fall apart.

With moonlight streaming over us, we find our pleasure together. My scream of bliss is muffled by Ren’s cock jerking against the back of my throat, and Silas grips me hard as he slams deep and comes with a hoarse shout.

Silas releases my wrists, and his shadows gentle immediately, soothing over the places he had me bound.

“Fucking hell, Rosie,” Ren pants, pulling my satiated body into his arms so I don’t go sprawling on the forest floor.

Silas is there a moment later, tipping my chin up and kissing me deep so he can devour the taste of Ren from my lips. “Are you alright, darling?”

I nuzzle into his neck. “Never better.”

We stay that way for a few minutes, catching our breath before we half-dress and head out of the forest.

“Finale night tomorrow,” Silas says as we make our way back to the cottage we moved into last November, the one that’s a little bigger and better suited to the three of us, but no less cozy.

Silas has me nestled in his embrace, and Ren has an arm slung over his shoulders as the staff village comes into view. We pass a few other monsters from the manor before we reach our cottage, but besides some knowing smiles, nobody bats an eye.

It’s been one of my favorite things about finding my place here, the permission to just be. To be myself, to be with Ren and Silas, to simply exist without fear I don’t belong.

“And it’s going to be one hell of a show,” Ren says.

“You say that about every night we perform together,” I tease.

“And I’m right every time.”

I laugh softly and close my eyes in sated bliss as we step inside our home.

Samhain night falls with the same static, crackling energy and magick it had last year.

Unlike last year, though, there’s no doubt I’m exactly where I need to be as I walk up the front stairs of the manor and step inside. A century of Bramwell magick greets me, wending its way over my skin and deep into my lungs, each inhale a warm, familiar embrace.

Far below the manor, in a chamber of the labyrinth outfitted with my father’s old alchemy equipment and all the new pieces I’ve picked up over the last year, more of that magick waits for me.

It’s tinged with occasional sadness and uncertainty as I’ve explored this new facet of my power, but it’s not something I’m afraid of anymore.

Heading toward the parlor, I run into Odelia. She gives me a brusque, business-like nod and a once-over, examining the intricate witch’s costume I’ve chosen for tonight.

“We’re set to have a record crowd this evening,” she says. “I do hope you and Renwick are ready to put on a good show.”

“Always,” I tell her, calling the word over my shoulder with careless arrogance as I brush past her. “We always put on a good show.”

She huffs a laugh in reply as I turn the corner, but I can hear her approval in the sound.

Odelia’s still a pain in the ass to deal with sometimes, but she’s also become a mentor for me over the last year. I don’t think I’ll ever see her as any kind of maternal figure, and we’ll probably never have a warm and fuzzy relationship, but it’s something. One more tie that binds me to this place, one more root to keep me anchored.

---