God of Monsters (Juniper Unraveling Book 4)

by Keri Lake

  With his neck straining, shoulders bunched, I can practically see his restraint on the verge of snapping.

  “Stop this. I’m warning you.”

  “Warning me of what? It’s a warm day. I’m merely trying to cool myself.”

  “Why are you trying to seduce me?”

  “Because I crave, too. I miss being touched. Being desired.”

  Eyes narrowed, he scoffs. “Oh, right. You’ve not been the coveted virgin Daughter in a few days. You miss that attention.”

  Without a word, I stride up to him and slam my fists hard against his solid chest, which fails to move him. “Fuck you, Titus,” I grit, and when I whirl to walk away, he snatches up my wrist.

  With a growl, I wrench my arm to break free, but he pulls me tighter.

  “You want to be fucked by an Alpha? Because we’re not gentle lovers, Thalia. We fuck like the savage animals we were bred to be.”

  “That’s not you. You’re not violent like that.”

  “Not violent? Did you forget I murdered your friend?”

  “Because you had to. You had no choice.”

  “Didn’t I? Why didn’t I snap Agatha’s neck instead?”

  A question that has admittedly swirled in my head a few times. One I’ve tamped down because there doesn’t seem to be an answer for it. Not even now. “You tell me.”

  His eye twitches, nostrils flared, lips pressed to a hard line. One hundred percent angry right now. “I wanted you for myself. I craved you then, and I still do. Every night, I’ve dreamed of fucking you. Of stowing away with you for hours on end.”

  I let his words simmer in my head. “What are you saying? You killed Will out of jealousy?”

  “I eliminated a roadblock in my quest for you.”

  This isn’t the Titus I’ve come to know in the last week. The one who cared for me. Who saved me from the Ragers. This is a villain. The ruthless, mindless Alpha beast I was warned about.

  Tears distort him as I glare back, wishing I had the gall to punch him in the face. Hard. “You’re a fucking monster!” I draw back a fist, but he catches my wrist mid-swing, yanking me into his body. “Let me go!” Like a cat caught in a trap, I kick and scream, wriggling to break free. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

  He gathers up my arms, holding them together in a single grasp that molds to my wrist like a shackle. With little effort, he manages to wrangle me to the ground, the vulnerability of my prone state only exacerbating my fury. Cheek pressed to the dirt, and his chest at my back, I wriggle beneath him, kicking up plumes of dust that I breathe in and cough out. His fingers curl into mine. Hot breaths fan across the back of my exposed neck. “It isn’t right to want you this much,” he growls out, while an impressive erection strains his jeans and presses hard between my thighs.

  Lying still beneath him, my whole body trembles with rage. “This is fitting for you, isn’t it? Feels more natural to take with a fight?”

  “Nothing about what I feel for you is natural.” Palms to my hips, he flips me over onto my back as easily as if I were a rag doll, and pins me down again. “Fight or not, I still wouldn’t take from you.”

  I lift my knee to slam into his groin, but with a shift of his hips, I miss my mark. More tears of frustration blur my eyes. “I should’ve let you die that day by the water.” The anger inside of me claws for a voice, and the words that tumble past my lips are meaningless and untrue, but I say them, anyway. I say them because I don’t know what else to say to him. How else to feel.

  “You should’ve.” Still holding my hands captive, he grits his teeth, staring down at me. “You could’ve spared me a lot of fucking headache.”

  “You didn’t kill Will out of jealousy for me. You killed him out of your own spiteful hate. You hate what I am. Where I come from. That’s why you killed him, instead. You wanted to hurt me.”

  “No. No!” He bares his teeth in a snarl and presses harder into my wrists, giving one rough shake of my body. “You’re wrong. I should’ve killed Agatha.” There’s an air of torment on his voice that momentarily snaps me out of my anger. “But I thought if. If she happened to pull that trigger before I got to you …” When he pulls away from me, his brows are furrowed, eyes plagued by anguish. “I can’t think about it. Someone, or something, hurting you in front of me.”

  The pressure of his fists squeezing my wrists coupled with the tightening of his jaw proves the point.

  “That troubles you?” I ask.

  The answer ignites in his eyes, silently telling me what hellish thoughts churn behind them. And beneath that is a layer of darkness, painting a bleak picture of what he’d do in retaliation. An ominous stretch of imagination, into which I don’t dare dip my fingers.

  Instead of saying a word, he crushes his lips to mine.

  I want to fight him, to hate him for what he said, but I can’t.

  I can’t.

  Because in all cases, no matter how little I understood it at the time, or how much I hate him for it now, everything Titus has done, he’s done for me. In truth, he’s been protecting me from the moment he stepped into that arena, and he’s been doing so since. This anger probably has nothing to do with his feelings. He’s protecting me from something again, even if I have no understanding of what that is.

  All that aside, I can’t deny the fact that his lips on mine are absolute heaven right now.

  The intoxicating scent of soap and fire pervades my senses. It wets my eager tongue as I dip it into his mouth to slake a thirst I can’t quite pinpoint. A craving I’ve longed for, but never tasted before, just as he said earlier. Pleasure beyond the confines of flesh and bone, down to the darkest corners of my soul.

  Air stutters inside my chest, my stomach fluttering like a thousand butterflies are trapped inside of me. My heart is pounding so hard inside my chest, it’s a wonder the damn thing doesn’t slam right through my ribs.

  His kiss tastes like an apology. Like sorrow and torment, but lust and longing, as well. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming, and, at the same time, not enough.

  God, how can that be? How can I be so gluttonous with passion and hunger for so much more?

  He groans, the agony vibrating down into my throat, as if he feels it, too. Arms planted at my sides, he holds himself over me and leans forward to kiss my neck. Up along my jaw, back to my lips. His movements are fervent and impatient, and the way he grips tight to my arms, it’s as if he thinks I’ll try to get away from him.

  As if I could.

  Every thread of my being is wound so tight around this man, he’s lucky to breathe.

  My own lungs tug at my throat for a sip of air, but I can’t be bothered to break the kiss. The whole world could ignite into flames right now, and I’d simply revel in its warmth.

  It’s Titus who pulls away first, and he rests his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling between us. “To answer your question about whether the thought troubles me,” he says in a ragged voice, “I would tear apart anything that ever tried to hurt you. And I would stab my own heart out, if it was me.”

  “Then, Will. Killing him wasn’t out of jealousy?”

  “I’d never hurt you for something so trivial as jealousy. The misery of Agatha shooting that poison into you and having to watch you die before my eyes was too much risk for me. Believe me, I didn’t want to kill him.”

  “I believe you. It’s not who you are. How many times do we have to revisit this?”

  “Until I no longer feel like a monster.”

  I lift my hand, tracing my finger down his hairline and along his temple, over the jagged scar there. “You’re not a monster to me.”

  He presses his lips to mine again, then makes his way to my jaw, my neck. Down to my collarbone. To my chest, where he tugs at the edges of my shirt, shifting it cockeyed, to expose my breast entirely. Hunger darkens his expression when he looks up at me, as if to ask for permission. At my nod, he circles my nipple with his tongue, the sight so painfully erotic, I tip my head back, cryin
g out. He makes a point to massage my other nipple through the fabric, and I run my fingers over his head, squeezing with every pull at my womb, when his teeth slide across the sensitive flesh. Lower still, he makes his way down my stomach, until he reaches the apex of my thighs.

  With his fingers tucked into the band of my shorts, he tugs the garment down to mid-thigh, his eyes alight and shimmering with unspoken appreciation.

  The second he bends forward, his intentions are clear, and I reach down to pull my shorts back up.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “I’m …. I’m nervous. I’ve never done that before.”

  The corner of his lips kicks up as if this pleases him, and with a rough yank, he draws me closer. “Then, I’m going to take my time and enjoy this even more.” Batting my hand away, he tugs the shorts to my knees, and I reach for them again.

  “Titus. Are you … putting your mouth there?”

  “My mouth. My tongue. My fingers. Yes.”

  Jesus, that sounds like a lot of action for one spot.

  “But I’m not--”

  “You’re perfect. Please.” He lifts my hand away, setting it beside me, and I curl my fingers into the soft sand beneath me. “I need to taste you. I’m starving for you right now.”

  Panic bubbling in my stomach, I lie back onto the ground. The canopy of leaves above me sways in the afternoon breeze, and I wonder if God can see through. If He’s staring down at me now.

  Warm lips press against my swollen flesh, and I let out a gasp as an unseen force tugs at me, arching my back. I exhale a moan and tip my head forward to see the top of Titus’s, buried between my thighs, his fingers digging into each leg, releasing the same pleasured moan I’ve heard whenever he’s eaten a hearty meal at the end of the day. With one long lick of his tongue up my seam, I thrust my hips forward, and he captures me, yanking me closer still as he tears away my shorts, tossing them aside, and flicks his tongue across my clit.

  “Oh, God!” Sand scrapes across the tips of my fingernails when I drag them over the dirt at either side of me, desperate to hang onto something.

  I’ve never felt a sensation so incredibly pleasurable in all my life.

  I slam my head against the sand, eyes rolling back, breath caught in my throat, while Titus makes a feast of me. Lips pulling at my clit, he sucks my flesh, practically slurping my arousal, and makes a growling sound in his throat while he savagely eats me.

  I squirm and writhe beneath his attentive mouth, silently praying that it never ends. What sounds like a cross between a moan and a sob escapes me, it feels so good I could cry.

  Pressure at my entrance has me biting my lip, as he dips his finger up inside of me, pumping in and out, then gathers the fluids he’s already worked up. He pauses to suck them from his skin before plunging them up my all-too-eager hole once more. “You taste so fucking good,” he rasps, and sucks at my already-swollen seam. His words stir excitement that shoots to the very spot where he’s lapping with the devotion of a holy man. The air of praise in his voice has me feeling like a puppy eager to please him, and when I brush my finger over my nipple, the flicker of fascination and desire burning in his eyes sends a flutter to my stomach.

  “Titus, oh, my … Titus.”

  My Titus. Yes, he’s mine. My Alpha. My male.

  Out here, where the world is harsh and we’re forced to survive alone together, where everyone is scratching for one small fraction of what’s left, I’m selfish enough to claim all of him.

  I spread my legs farther and give tiny thrusts toward his unforgiving tongue. My stomach pulls and twists into tight knots, while my muscles tremble with the tension drawn by his lips. I moan and stare up at the trees that rattle and shake in celebration, while the knots tighten. Tighter. Tighter. So tight!

  My hips thrust faster in the motions of sex, while he fingers me and tongues my clit at the same time. Possessed by the demons he seeks to exorcise with his mouth.

  The sun blazes as a golden circle of light through the tree, and I close my eyes to a flash behind my lids. Tingles vibrate across my skin, down to my toes that I dig into his back. I cry out. The sound of sheer ecstasy echoes all around me.

  “Titus!” Pulses of pleasure throb in my womb, my thighs shaking like fragile branches, while the last of my climax explodes through me. I want to laugh and cry at the same time. I want to lie here and bask in the warm and cozy feeling, but I also want to knock him to the ground and return the favor.

  Sitting back on his heels, Titus looks like a God, his mouth shining with my release, his hair in disarray from my fingers.

  I want to taste him, too.

  Crawling toward him, I set my hand against his rock-hard abs, and push him backward. Taking the hint, he lies on his back and welcomes me into his arms, enveloping me in a cage of muscle. I press my lips to his, tasting my own arousal on his skin.

  I could kiss him all afternoon and never tire of it, but right now, I want something more.

  The moment I break the kiss and back myself down his body, his eyes turn suspicious. Stalking me. Must be how his prey feels when he hunts, because the way he’s watching me, I’m expecting him to tackle me at any second.

  Kissing my way down his stomach, with the patches of hair tickling my skin, I finally arrive at the top of his pants and sit back on my heels. When I reach for the button of his denim, he strikes out, his palm swallowing mine in an attempt to stop me.

  “I can’t.” The husky tone in his voice betrays his words.

  “I want to taste you, too, Titus.”

  “Thalia … you don’t understand. When Alphas get aroused, it’s like trying to stop a freight train.”

  “Who says I want to stop?”

  “I do. I will not have you, no matter how badly I want it.”

  “Why? You know I’m not a virgin, so if you’re trying to protect my virtue, there’s no need.”

  “Your virtue is important, but not the reason I refuse.”

  My mind slips back to the conversation we had, about his bonding with the other woman. “Is it … is that you don’t feel the bond with me that you had with Cali?”

  His stomach flexes beneath my hand, as he sits up and runs his hand over my hair. “I feel everything with you. The wind on my skin for the first time in a long time, and the breath in my lungs. My heart pounding inside my chest whenever I’m near you. My muscles tense with rage at the thought of someone hurting, or touching, you. Pain with every tear you cry. Make no mistake, I feel more with you than I ever have.”

  “Then, why do you refuse?”

  Brows furrowing, he lowers his gaze. “If, by chance, you became pregnant with my child, you would die giving birth.”

  “How can you be--”

  “I’m certain of it. Cali suffered the injections so her body could accommodate an Alpha child. You’re not equipped.”

  “Titus. I’m pretty sure losing Will’s child was inevitable for me. I was told as a teenager that I had a uterine abnormality.”

  His frown deepens, and I can practically see the question swirling behind his eyes. “How were you expected to carry out the duties of a Daughter?”

  “My mother was the daughter of the only midwife in Szolen. She lied to them about it, and no one questioned her. She told me the possibility rested in God’s hands. I had two years to produce a child, and if I didn’t, I was given a sort of honorable discharge from the Daughterhood. Basically, she wanted me to become a Daughter, no matter what.”

  Even discharged Daughters got to live in fancy houses and enjoy the privileged life, after all.

  “Even so, I’m not taking the chance with you, Thalia.”

  “I’ve never … climaxed with a man until you. I want to return the favor. I want to taste you, too. Please let me do this. For you.”

  Conflict burns in his eyes, and I imagine a war between opposing forces inside his head right now. To ease his conscience, I push him hard, and I’m certain it’s his own weak resolve that allows it, because the
re’s no way I could move this man so easily. He’s rock and steel, stitched together by determination and a whole lot of stubborn will. Eyes on me, he lies back against the sand, keeping his head lifted, no doubt to watch me.

  Straddling his massive thighs, I unclasp his jeans and tug them down to spring his impressive cock free. Watching him stroke it from a distance failed to portray its enormity, as I study it from a much closer perspective.

  How the hell am I going to fit this thing into my mouth?

  I swallow a gulp, staring down at the hard flesh that stands upright, just waiting to impale something. Like a mighty sword.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he says, maybe catching a glimpse of the calculations dancing about in my head.

  “Shut up.” Working up the saliva in my mouth, I lift up to my knees. Like the lock on his slave band, I understand the mechanics of this. I’ve just never performed it before. Clearly, Titus has more experience in the art of oral sex, but I’m a quick study.

  “Anything you do is going to feel good, Thalia.”

  I lower myself over the tip, and for whatever godforsaken reason, the first thing that springs to mind is the berry water popsicles we’d make on hot summer days back at Szolen. How refreshing and sweet they tasted on my tongue. The very thought of them has my mouth watering, and when I take Titus into my mouth, I can hear him hiss over the visual playing inside my head. His flavor is a salty-sweet taste, and while I imagine sucking the popsicle, and the wet trickles of berry juice leaking from the corners of my mouth, I crave more.

  Eyes closed, I bob against his groin, remembering the satisfaction of that cold pop in my mouth, the girth of it stretching my lips, and when I open my eyes, Titus is up on his elbows, hands balled to tight fists, with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Fuck, woman!”