Page 47 of Mated to the Monster Under my Bed
“Well, you deserve it,” I whispered, kissing his shoulder. “All that pleasure you gave me last night, I wanted to give you something in return.”
“You gave me everything just by letting me touch you,” he rumbled, pressing a kiss to my temple. “And I want to give it all back to you again. A thousand times over.”
I closed my eyes, letting myself melt against his warmth…his scent…his steady heartbeat. I felt like I belonged there—wrapped in his arms, floating on the edge between sleep and pleasure.
For the first time in years, I felt treasured.
And I never wanted that feeling to end.
27
SHADOW
Her head lay nestled against my chest, the warm scent of her hair curling around me like a spell. Sweet…soft…and utterly real. For so years had I dreamed of holding her and now I finally was.
I held her gently, not wanting to break the fragile wonder of the moment, not daring to believe she had just touched me—claimed me—with her mouth and hands like I was something she wanted.
I had never known pleasure like that. Never been touched like that…tasted, devoured, worshipped.
My throat tightened.
No one had ever wanted me the way Danni did—not in the dark. Not in the light. Not in any of the in-between shadows where I usually lived.
I drew her closer, burying my nose in her hair and breathing in her warm, feminine scent.
“Gods, little witch, your mouth is so talented. It felt like magic.”
She laughed softly against my chest.
“Magic, huh? Well if it was, it’s the first magic I’ve done since I was a kid.”
I tilted her chin up so I could look into her eyes—those gorgeous hazel eyes with golden flecks I could drown in.
“I want to return the favor,” I said, my voice rough with need. “I want to taste you too.”
She blinked, and the light in her eyes flickered just enough for me to see…not fear exactly, but something close. Hesitation…uncertainty.
I didn’t push. Instead, I smoothed a strand of silky hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
“Did your husband never taste you?” I asked softly.
She shook her head, cheeks going pink with embarrassment.
“Craig was a good lover… well, most of the time. But he just didn’t like that. Didn’t like, uh, going down.”
She said it like she was embarrassed, as if it was something shameful. As if the fault lay with her and not the man who’d left her untouched and unseen.
My jaw clenched.
Why the hell wouldn’t he have wanted to worship her? To feast on every inch of her soft, beautiful body until she shook apart in his arms?
“I don’t understand,” I murmured, brushing my fingers down the curve of her shoulder. “Why wouldn’t he want to taste you?”
She gave a small shrug, avoiding my gaze.
“He said it just wasn’t his thing.”
“Well,” I said, “it’s very much my thing. You don’t know how many years I’ve been dreaming of tasting you, my little witch.”
