Page 62 of Marked By Feral Monsters
"Sex work. Do you know why I do it? Have you wondered?"
Okay, so we're having this conversation now. That's what I wanted, right? Might as well rip off the Band-Aid. This is why we're here, because I hired him to be. Because I'm too pathetic to get out of my own way in real life.Because none of this is real.
"Of-of course," I stutter, unable to look at him. His humming intensifies, now a low growl, and I feel it rattle my rib cage. The silverware and bowls on the counter shake against the granite.
Zair dips a claw-tipped finger beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my eyes to meet his. It's so odd. I've grown so used to looking at him, to pecking his furred cheek, to receiving licks, that it no longer seems strange to yearn for this… monster.
"There are not many jobs for a minotaur in the city. We are strong. Not as strong as the orc or the trolls and the giant-descendants, but compared to humans and some of the other monster-folk, we are built for labor."
"You enjoy sex," I say, to make this whole uncomfortable conversation easier, to get it done faster. To let him know it's okay to let me down easy.
"Yes, I enjoy sex. It's easy money, it's fun. And since there aren't a lot of manual labor jobs here in the city that require a minotaur's strength, this work has been preferable. But it isn't everything."
Zair sighs, twisting the gold metal ring in his nose, something he does when he's deep in thought. I love that I know that about him. He continues, "I could make a living between your sweet thighs. But I'd rather you give yourself to me freely."
"What-what do you mean?"
"Mouse, there is a time for games. This isn't it. You know what I'm saying. I gave the money back because I like you. Very much." He takes a step closer, my back hitting the countertop. "I can smell your cunt, how much she yearns for me. And I can hear your pulse quicken when I tell you I like you very much. So let's be honest with each other. I want to see where this goes. I don't need the money, certainly notyourmoney. I'm taking a break from the Center so we can explore this thing between us."
My heart races. Right here on a platter is everything I've ever wanted. But I've thought that before, haven't I?This is everything I've ever wanted, and I wasn't happy then.
What if he gets to know the real me, the one that is currently so focused on this conversation, on my heart, on the look in his eyes, but is also thinking about the mess on the countertop. About what Marty could be fucking up at the office. About how I have no idea how to fit a minotaur into my life.
I shake my head, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "People won't approve."
He barks a sharp laugh, throwing his head back. "You do not care what people think. You may tell yourself you do, but you don't. You tell me about the office gossip, how everyone sees you.You could try to be their best friend, make your personality more pleasant for them, invite them out for drinks after work, to buy their affections. You do not, because you do not care."
"I don't care whattheythink—"
He waves a hand around my apartment. "And all these other people in your life, then, whose opinions you hold so dear?"
"You're being a dick. I get it, I'm all alone. There are no other people. You don't need to rub it in my face. I'm just saying—" God, whatamI saying? I huff, tugging the tie of my robe tighter. "I'm just saying, people will talk, and I don't need…"
"What? What don't you need? Anyone? You do not need anyone in your life? You're happy all alone?"
I flinch. "That's not what I'm saying."
"So you just don't needme."
I don't want to need him. In my struggle to get the words out, to tell him I do want him, though, and that he is right, that I don't care what other people think, he sighs and takes a step away.
It feels like a crater of distance, and I nearly cry and reach out, to beg him not to go.
"Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?" He looks down at me to be sure I'm really listening. I don't miss a single breath.
"When your request came through, I snatched it away from one of my colleagues. Your picture was beautiful, yes. I love how thick your thighs are, and these beautiful tits." He reaches out, briefly outlining the shape of my left breast through the bulky terry-cloth robe, before pulling his hand away.
"Your stern smile and soft skin… you tried to hide behind ugly business clothes, but I saw right through your cold exterior. You are exquisite. To me, you are perfect. But that wasn't what called you to me. There was something in your tone, in your comments, in all the things you selected—I knew you had chaosin your mind, even then. And loneliness. I knew exactly what you needed, and for the first time in a long time, I felt connected to someone, and we hadn't even met.
"And then I arrived here in your perfectly sterile apartment, and I saw you. Minotaurs call it a kink-mate. One who calls to our inner demon. Your need for control is so strong it keeps you spinning, and you're desperate for someone to rescue you, to help you off the carousel. Like a little mouse, you heard mygourah, and you answered the call. You stepped out of the safety of your bedroom, hungry for salvation."
He closes the distance between us, and my shoulders drop in relief. He tilts his head down, and his voice lowers to a purr. "I do not care what others think. Uncommon as it may be, humans and monstersdomate. It's not easy, but I've never needed easy. And you don't strike me as the type to take shortcuts in life. So. I'll tell you again, little mouse. I like you. Very much. And I already know we are kink-mates. Destined to fulfill our inner demons, perfect for each other. I want to explore this with you. If it wasn't so soon, if you were not a human, then I'd admit how badly I just want to be with you. But I'll save that for next week. Now tell me what you want."
I don't even have to think about the answer. And he's right; this isn't the time for games. I want him, and the thought of him leaving, of turning him away, feels worse than everything that came before.
"You," I whisper. "I want you. You're right, I don't care what other people think. All I care about is this, you, us. I want to try. I don't even know how minotaurs and humans—"
Zair
