Page 28 of To Love a Monster
Chapter Eleven
Lila
The rain starts comingdown in buckets by the time I get inside.Sharp, sudden, and relentless.My breath is shallow as I shut the door behind me, the echo of breaking glass still splintering through my mind.I press my back to the door, dripping and dazed, and let the weight of it all crash into me.I saw him.Just for a second, a silhouette in the trees.But it was enough.That coiled violence in the way he stood.The storm in his posture.The certainty of it.I pissed him off.
And now ...he’s coming for me.
A shiver climbs up my spine.He didn’t have to shout, didn’t have to say a word.That look?That was enough to get my heart racing with fear and anticipation.And still, my thighs clench.My breath stutters.Because somewhere in the mess of adrenaline and shame and heat, I’m excited.Terrified and trembling and wrecked.Because I know what I did, I know why I did it, and I know he’s going to make me pay.Not with words.Not with warnings.But with hands that don’t ask permission, with a mouth that devours.
I think about his last message.You didn’t just ask for punishment tonight, little lamb ...you begged to be broken.And I heard you.Loud.And.Fucking.Clear.My fingers twitch as I push off the door, legs shaky beneath me.I should run, lock the house, and hide.But instead, I walk toward the kitchen, toward the wine.
I saw the way he looked at me in the dark.Those eyes, green and gleaming like wildfire through the storm, locked on me with a hunger that wasn’t human.It was predatory and ferocious.So sharp it felt like he was peeling me open with just a stare.There was no mercy in them, no hesitation.Only promises.
And I knew, with one look, that he meant every word in those messages.He wasn’t bluffing when he said I was begging for punishment.He was already deciding how he’d deliver it.
I can’t stop thinking about how deep he’d bury himself into me.How he isn’t planning on holding back anymore.And the worst part?My body lights up for it.I felt his stare like cold hands and hot flesh.Like a leash tightening around my throat.
By the time I get to where the bottle of wine waits, I don’t even bother with a glass.I just grip it by the neck and drink straight from the bottle like it might ease my nerves.
I hear it before I even see him and spin on my heel to face the heavy, deliberate fall of his boots against the soaked wood of the deck.Each step louder than the thunder cracking overhead.Louder than the pounding of my own heart.It’s like a predator’s rhythm, a war drum pace.
And then I see him through the glass.Nikolai.No hood covering his face, no shadows to hide behind.Just him, standing in the storm like he fucking summoned it.Lightning flashes behind him, throwing his silhouette into sharp focus, his shoulders squared, chest rising with the kind of tension that feels combustible.The hoodie’s been discarded and his black shirt clings to his body, drenched and painted to muscle.Rain slides down the thick columns of his arms, dripping from clenched fists.Veins bulge beneath soaked skin like ropes pulled too tight.
He’s soaked, he’s massive.He’s beautiful in the most violent, terrifying way I’ve ever seen.His jaw is locked and a muscle ticks along the sharp cut of it like he’s seconds from exploding.His hair is plastered to his forehead, wild from the wind and rain.
And his eyes.God, those eyes.They burn through the storm, glowing like a monster in the dark.Unblinking and unforgiving.So wild and sharp I swear I can feel them dragging across my skin, slicing through my clothes.
He’s not just angry.He’spissed.Uncaged and strung tight with a fury that hums beneath his skin, too big to hold, too dangerous to breathe near.
I should be afraid.And I am, but just not in the way I should be.My body reacts like it’s been jolted by electricity and I live for the pain of it.My back hits the counter behind me and I stay there frozen, breath caught, heart thudding against my ribs like it wants to bolt.But I don’t run.
Because I don’t want calm, I don’t want soft hands and gentle words.I want this.Him.Unhinged, unholy, and completely unleashed.The fear pulses low.Warm, sharp, and welcome.
He waits patiently as I step toward the glass door like I’m in a trance.I don’t speak, don’t blink, I just lift my hand and slide the door open, inviting him in.Giving him the permission he’s been waiting for.The wind barrels in, bringing the storm with it, all rain and cold.
He doesn’t say a word, just enters with his eyes locked on mine.He walks in slowly, each heavy step deliberate and measured, like he’s reining in the urge to tear something apart.Rain drips from his clothes, soaking into the floorboards, trailing behind him like blood.
And I can’t move.I stay where I am, breath shallow, and body locked tight in place as he stops just feet from me.Still, he says nothing, just stares.Soaking wet and breathing hard.Rage and lust coils tightly across every inch of him like a fuse waiting to snap.
My skin prickles and my knees threaten to give.Because I know he’s not here to talk this time.No, he’s here totake.To show me that I don’t get to play with wolves and expect not to get bitten.
And still, my chest heaves.My whole body pulses with the sick, twisted relief of finally being caught.
