Page 21 of Welcome Home
Another drink. “So, this game… it’s hands off, yes?”
I don’t miss the widening of those honey-colored eyes as he rises from his seat. “You have my word.”
“The word of a psycho cannibal?”
He laughs but his hands are raised, palms out-turned like he’s trying to seem innocent. It’s almost cute… how much he wants this.
And terrifying how much I do.
“It’s only cannibalism if you eat the same animal, my love.”
With a shuttering breath and clenching of my thighs I stand, pointing to his side of the room, the bed between us. “You stay there.”
“I wouldn’t dream of coming closer.”
Drink, roll my eyes, contemplate my own dwindling sanity. I repeat that process with every assurance he offers, coaxing me to play his little game that will surely leave me bare in front of him. Exposing my arousal to him, more than I already have.A monster.I want to be bare, though. I want those familiar, unfamiliar eyes running across my skin for the first time without scrutiny. Not that he hasn’t seen it before. Many times, even since borrowing the skin but there’s no distraction now. Nothing to stop me.
To stop us.
“You’re a Skinwalker.”
His smile tells me all I need to know. The wine in the bottle sloshes as I place it on the table reaching up and pulling my hair free from its tie. My thighs press together, trying to relieve the anticipation settling in my core.
“That’s not fair.” He remarks, those eyes watching my hair fall, settling around my face and shoulders.
“The game is rigged in your favor.”
“Not if you ask yourself the right questions.”
This is a monster, not a man, a creature, not my husband. Not someone I loved. No matter how many times I remind myself of those facts, it does nothing to dampen my need. My lips part on the realization that I don’t want him to be any of those things. What I’m craving is the monster.
“You’re very old.”Good. Be vague.
My teeth press into my bottom lip as he tugs his t-shirt up and over his head. “Truly brilliant Cora dear.”
“Don’t be an ass. You have the upper hand; I need to be strategic unless I plan to remove my own skin.”
I cringe at the irony of that statement.
His laughter only barely distracts me from the tanned washboard abs Oliver was always so proud of. The little flat, smooth moles that he wanted to have removed but never got the chance to. “I don’t recommend it. It’s a nasty business.”
“It hurts when you… take it off.”
He reaches down, slipping off his watch before tossing it on the floor. Another very unlike Oliver thing to do. “Perhaps we up the stakes?”
“Sure.” I answer before he even gets it out. Entirely without thinking as I jerk the bottle up off the side table, taking a long drink.
Be cool, Cora.
“You’re curious what it would feel like to be fucked by a monster.” He offers, his gaze smoldering.
My breath hitches in my throat, my clit pulsing as I nod. Just barely.
“Forgetting the rules already, my love? You seem distracted.”
The warmth in my belly is growing and I can tell I should stop drinking now, judging by how quickly I jump to obey, removing both my fuzzy socks. I can see his arousal, tented behind pajama pants.
“You… you’re an alien.”
