Page 55 of Marked By Feral Monsters
Zair smiles. It's so disarming to go from the feral beast who broke in and rammed me, to this sweet, affectionate lover. "Good girl. Always use it if you need it. Are you alright, though?" His finger trails my throat again. I shiver beneath his touch.
And all that fear and pain, the worry, the panic... it all fades away. Not because we've broken the scene, but because I realizeI had control the entire time. I still do. He proves it by asking if I'd like more water, and can he get me anything else?
I shake my head no.
My adrenaline is crashing, but I don't want it to fade completely. I also never want this to end, but I don't know what to do with that feeling, because it will. Too quickly, this will all be over, and I'll go back to reality.
Cooking for one. The last person to leave the office. Order and cleanliness and proper attire.
This Calista—the naked, filthy one, who craves darkness and is desperate for more—she only has tonight. And I need to make the most of it.
So, I set the glass on my bedside table and turn to him.
"I'm ready."
"Are you sure? You can have a few minutes, whatever you need—"
"I'm sure," I say confidently. He nods once, eyes sparkling like he's proud of me.
"Good girl." Then grabs me and shoves me down onto the mattress, grips my bralette and tears it in half. I make a sound of dissent because he ruined yet another piece of expensive clothing, but Zair growls, then pinches both my nipples, twisting them hard.
I cry out in pain. "Ow! Oh, fuck!"
He laughs darkly, then taps my cheek lightly. "Time to be quiet, little mouse." His thumbs graze over my nipples so gently, stimulating the tips into hard peaks before he pinches again. The contrast makes me moan, and I try to squeeze my legs together, but again, he's anchored his enormous body between them, and I get no relief.
"Hmm," Zair hums, still caressing, then squeezing my tits. "How to keep my little human mouse from reporting me to theauthorities as soon as I leave... Have you ever had someone break in before? You may answer."
"No," I say, though it sounds more like a whine.
"Perhaps I'll tell all my friends, the woman in the penthouse apartment at 2262 Elmwood, will let you break into her apartment and steal all her fine material things as long as you make her come first. Would you like that little mouse? Will you keep your mouth shut if I make you come? Would you let a train of minotaurs come in here and wreck your pretty human cunt?"
"Yes!" I cry out while he drags his thumb and the tip of his sharp claw from my nipple down to my belly button. I try to lift my pelvis, but he's pinned me in place.
Zair laughs. "I figured. You are a dirty little slut. I knew it when I saw you at the market today. Did you know I followed you? Cased you out? Had to make sure you were all alone. That no one would come to your aid when I broke in and stole this pussy for myself."
His words hit too close to home. The ache between my legs and the loneliness in my heart build that rage again. It fires up my blood, and I try to buck my hips up, to fight back.
"Fuck you!" I snarl.
"All alone..." He muses, ignoring my anger. Then his thumb finally dips lower and grazes my clit. Softly—so softly I can barely feel it, and I practically scream when he moves it away.
"Please!" I cry. "Fuck, please! I'm sorry, just please make me c—"
Slap!It surprises me at first, and I snap my mouth shut. Then he spreads my pussy open with one hand and slaps again.
"Ahhh!"
"I told you to be quiet, mouse. Time for punishment."
I brace for pain. But what he does is much worse.
Keeping my pussy spread open, he exposes my clit, the most sensitive part of the pearl, a little bundle of nerve endings, andwith his other finger, he barely touches it, lightly flicking it back and forth. It's not enough. It feels so good, but it's muted. Like the nerves are underwater. He blows on my clit and ever-so-gently touches it, offering zero friction.
Not enough, not enough. I buck my hips and cry, begging for more, not caring that I'm disobeying. Zair keeps flicking, keeping the pleasure to the barest minimum. I start crying.
I'm so horny it fucking hurts.
"You are dripping wet, mouse." One finger barely dips into my pussy, slathering my slick around, like he's playing in a puddle.
