Page 25 of Fate & Monsters
“In a world of brutality and savagery, it’s a relief to have a place of solitude to come to.” Mavros paused behind me, the heat of his body radiating against my spine. My breathing increased, heart rate escalating. “Reading is a satisfying way to blur the lines of reality and lose yourself in something aside from your troubles.”
A desire to do that very thing ignited like a flint on steel in my chest.
“I wish I could do that.” I turned, breath stuttering from me as I saw just how near Mavros was. So tall, rising over me and casting me in his shadow. Head tipped back, I met his gaze. “I don’t know how to read.”
The warmth of his determination snuffed out the flash of surprise in his eyes. A smirk kicked at the corner of his lip, stressing the pointed tusk on that side. My heart wobbled when he tucked a finger under my chin.
“If you’d like, I can teach you.” His thumb, soft and warm despite the sharp claw at the end, stroked over my chin. His eyes lowered, growing darker. “I can teach you everything.”
There was something earnest and kind in him I hadn’t noticed until that moment, and I found it strangely compelling. “Yes, I think I’d enjoy that.”
Chapter 9
The sweetest perfection,and she was all my own.
The scent of her was a drug. No perfume in all of creation could compare to the aroma of her skin, her hair, the apex of her thighs. I would bottle it, drink it, bathe in it if I could. She was a walking, talking totem of perfection.
I dragged my tongue over her wrist, shivering from the rush of euphoria through my veins. I sat on the floor, holding her hand that hung over the edge of the mattress. I relished in the taste of her skin, the warm, thrumming pulse in her wrist. My tongue memorized the lines in her palm, the shape of her fingers, her knuckles. Her nails were short, her digits dainty and fragile. Teeth scraped over the meat of her thumb, and I battled the urge to bite down on tender flesh, draw blood, consume her down to the bone and carry a piece of her within me.
A light moan escaped her.
The sound of her soft breaths, the taste of her,it was agonizing. It was wonderful.
My cock throbbed in my trousers, precum soaking the fabric. An audible groan breached me when I sucked two of her fingers into my mouth and felt the pulse in her wrist jump. I glanced up, watching her sleeping form on the bed. Her lips were parted, breathier sighs passing through. Too caught up suckling her flesh, I hadn’t noticed her roll onto her back, or the way she pressed her knees together.
“Do you enjoy it when I touch you?” I knew she wouldn’t answer. She slept so soundly, and the wine had taken hold almost as soon as we entered the library. It was a miracle she hadn’t succumbed to sleep before reaching her room.
Opposite hand reaching, I brushed across her cheek and shimmering strands of hair caught in my claws. A whining exhale made her chest cave, and a full body shudder followed. A grin split my lips.
“You do enjoy it, you perfect creature.” I shifted onto my knees, leaning over the bed. “You perfect, lovely thing. So good for me while I touch you. So responsive and delicate. I can hardly withstand the extent of my want.” I buried my face in her hair, nuzzling the tresses and inhaling her scent. “I want you so badly.”
A change in her scent punched through me. I angled my head, staring down the length of her body and the lacy yellow nightgown she wore tonight. A muskier, feminine scent similar to the one left in her undergarments. Revelation snappedthrough me and my pupils dilated impossibly further. My tail whipped, and my cock hardened further, fighting against the constraint of my pants.
Could it be?
Her heart beat stuttered, her breath caught, and a pulse in the graceful column of her throat ticked faster. That sweet, mouthwatering aroma filled the room, nearly making me dizzy. I shook my head, but my vision blurred.
Arousal. She was aroused in her sleep.
“Gods-fuck,” I snarled. Her blanket complained, the fibers nearly tearing beneath my claws as I fisted them on the bed. I needed to leave before I went too far, but she was reacting to me. She was aroused because of me. I caused it. I owned it.
I dragged myself up, practically drooling as her scent enveloped me. Her thighs parted as if unconsciously expecting me to lean forward and lick her. And fuck, I wanted to.
Her thighs tasted so good. Sweet with a hint of salt. A treasure—a dessert. I blew on her skin and goosebumps flared out. Her nipples peaked against the yellow lace. A throb of pure burning heat zipped through me. One hand curled around her knee, gentle with the claws, and pulled them further apart. My opposite hand freed my aching cock.
“Have mercy,” I begged nameless, faceless gods.
Her quim was wet. Dripping at the seam.
I licked my lips, breathing harder as I stroked myself.
Her cunt was divine. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. Walking with her, talking with her, and refraining from touching her had ruined me. It was the second worst form of torture compared to this—of looking, of being so close, and not taking.
Pleasure seized me as I jerked off, rutting into my fist with nothing more than her intoxicating scent and the image of her alluring cunt.
I couldn’t keep doing this. I would drive myself insane.
I wouldn’t come back again.
