Page 23 of Monstrous Heat
Shaking, I gripped his neck. “They might kill you.”
He chuckled, a deep, toe-curling laugh that slithered through my belly and started to loosen the painful knots in a wash of heat. “They can try, but they won’t succeed. Not while I have you to protect.”
13
NATALIE
Ifelt so small in his arms. Small and safe and cherished. Me. The bigger girl who’d always been picked last for anything that didn’t involve my brain. He picked me up and moved me around like I was a delicate, precious thing he’d break if he squeezed too hard.
Which honestly was probably true. His massive hands were so powerful, his shoulders impossibly wide, his biceps thick. If he flexed too hard, he could pop my head like a melon. He wouldn’t have to shift to the creature to rip me limb from limb.
But he wouldn’t. I didn’t know much about him, not really, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn’t ever deliberately hurt me. My brain still shivered and flinched at the thought of the monster in the jungle. But the man? Never.
And there was so much man. Bulging muscle everywhere I touched. His skin burned with heat, radiating his musky scent even more. Cradled on his lap, I was engulfed by his size and strength. I flattened my breasts against the broad expanse of his chest, soaking him in. The closer I got to him, my body touching his, the more the knots in my stomach eased.
It terrified me how much I wanted him. Needed him. Already, just one day in, I couldn’t stop thinking about sex. I’d climaxed twice without him even touching me. I reeked of his cum, yet all I could think about was seeing how much more he could put in or on me.
Damn. That was fucked up. In a million years, I’d never have guessed that I’d want a man to jizz all over me and rub it into my skin. Or come inside me again and again, leaving me sticky and—
My brain wanted to say gross. But my pussy quivered on the verge of climax again.
He let out a soft grunt. “Climb on my dick before you come again, baby. Let me feel your sweet pussy squeezing me.”
Gripping his shoulders, I rose on my knees, bracing myself on his massive thighs. His cock brushed against my stomach, a red-hot iron rod. So big that it still boggled my mind that he’d managed to fit inside me. I’d have to scale his body like a mountain climber to reach the tip.
His big hands slid under my thighs, lifting me up high against his chest. No fumbling or awkward squirming needed. The broad head of his dick bumped my entrance, locked and loaded. Ready for action.
He could have slammed up into me. Dropped me down onto his massive erection, letting gravity do the work. Instead, he simply held my thighs, waiting for me to take him at my own speed.
Letting my ass drop down lower, I rubbed myself against his cock. Rolling my hips, rocking against him, letting the tip slide between my lips. Deeper, the broad head pushing inside me. Hot enough I gasped. Big enough that my heart thudded heavily. Adrenaline flooded my system. I barely had an inch of him inside me and it felt like my heart was going to explode out of my ribcage.
I panted, wriggling back and forth in his grip. “Are you… bigger?”
A deep rumble rolled from his chest, vibrating through my core. “Yeah. Probably. Hormones are a bitch.” He paused for a moment. His jaw flexed and worked. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. His nostrils flared. His eyes blazed red, flashing with symbols too fast for me to read or understand. “There. Try that.”
I shifted ever so slightly, and his dick glided inside me. Still hot and hard but not so impossibly broad. My breath caught in my throat, my hips dipping deeper automatically. Driven by instinct. Lust. Whatever. I had to get that glorious hard dick inside me. All the way. I groaned, pushing him deeper, my hips undulating desperately. More. I twisted side to side, working his dick inside me as far as it could go. Now that he was inside me, he seemed to swell, filling up every nook and cranny. I couldn’t help but think about the knot that had locked us together last night.
Another wave of heat poured through me. My eyes felt hot and fevered, my lips dry and cracked.
Stuffed to the brim, I still wanted more. More dick. More of his scent. His skin. His touch. I wanted him everywhere. I tried to push down harder to take him to the hilt, but white-hot flares shot through me, making me cry out.
His fingers dug into my thighs, lifting me up incrementally until the sensation eased. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I want more.” I winced at my whiny tone but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t sit still. I squirmed against him, pulling at his shoulders, his neck. I wanted—needed—more.
I pressed my mouth against his skin. Hot velvet. Thick muscle. My mouth watered, like I wanted to bite him. Like for real, I wanted to grab a hunk of him. The meat of his shoulder. And hold him in my mouth.
Which freaked me the fuck out. That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t me.
Was it?
He gathered me close, enfolding me against him. His shoulders and chest curled around me. One palm cradled the back of my head, his other braced my weight, his fingers digging into my buttock.
“Amazing,” he breathed against my ear. “So fucking hot. You’re feeling a mating instinct despite being human.”
“I don’t feel like myself.” My voice broke on a deep, ragged groan. “I don’t like it.”
A hard click at my ear made me flinch. “I’m so sorry, Natalie. I’ll make it up to you or die trying. I can’t leave you unless I’m dead.”
