Friends With The Monsters

by Albany Walker

  I release Grim’s arm and stalk over to Gunnar. “I want to know where Vanessa is, Kitten, and I want to know right now.” I pat my hand over his impressive chest, stroking over the muscles concealed under his shirt.

  “I’ll find out,” Gunnar assures me quickly. “Give me an hour.” He grabs the back of my head and fuses his mouth to mine. All my pent-up energy and anger coils out of me as I dig my fingernails into his heavy shoulders, and kiss him back with just as much aggression as he’s offering.

  Our teeth hit more than once, but I don’t even care. When he pulls away, I bite his chin roughly for denying me, then shove his chest. Gunnar stumbles back, drawing his hand over his mouth and chin with a feral sneer on his face.

  “Go, now!” I order, even more pissed because I let him distract me for those few precious seconds. In the next breath, he’s gone, nothing but his lingering scent to tell me he was even here.

  I face the others, daring them to say a word about the kiss. Grim has his head tilted to the side, while Calix has his hands shoved deeply into his front pockets. Their faces are smooth without any sign of censure to be seen.

  I was expecting some kind of disapproval, instead, Calix asks, “Where should we look for her?” My thoughts go right back to Aeson. She’s just so tough, I can’t imagine her ever letting Vanessa, or someone from her coven, get close enough to be a threat.

  I grab my hair and tug it backwards. “I don’t know,” I reluctantly admit, and suddenly feel guilty, because I don’t know enough about her. “We talked all the time, but she always kept it vague. I know she has a penchant for leather and never has less than five men in her life at once, but I don’t even know where she lived.”

  I’ll get word to her band that she isn’t here. Her disciples are already looking for her. The veterans are conducting business as usual so as not to draw attention to her absence. Samson steps forward on one huge, black paw, preparing to leave.

  “Thank you, Samson, for coming to me,” I tell him earnestly.

  You’re welcome, Dami. I will return if I hear anything. Try not to worry about the Brownie; I don’t know many fiercer. Samson lumbers out of the living room to disappear the same way he arrived.

  “I think I should check in with Rocky and the guys. I’m not sure if they’ll know anything, but it couldn’t hurt. Will you be able to stay with Damiana?” Calix looks to Grim for an answer.

  “I don’t need anyone to babysit me.” My hackles rise at the implication that I would.

  “I will not leave her unless one of you are present.” Grim ignores my comment and answers Calix.

  “Okay, I won’t be long.” Calix drags a small set of keys from his front pocket and tosses them on the counter, then tugs his t-shirt off.

  I forget about my argument of not being treated like a baby and watch as he drapes the fabric over one of my chairs.

  “Uh, not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?” I question, when Calix reaches for the button of his pants.

  “I can travel much quicker if I shift,” he replies, not missing a beat as he drags the zipper down.

  A whole lot of tawny skin is showing, enough that a girl can’t take any blame as her thoughts scatter. Calix’s chest is covered in a light smattering of short hair, it’s a few shades darker than his light locks. His stomach is flat, and there’s no clear definition of abdominal muscles, yet his body screams masculinity.

  He shucks the pants off quickly, not bothered in the least with my staring. I watch his hand move to the waist of what can only be described as a pair of tighty-whities, but damn, I ain’t ever seen a pair look so good. The material is tight enough that I can easily see his growing erection pushing against the fabric.

  “Shifting, shifting.” I find myself repeating the words, but I’m definitely not thinking about him shifting into a Nemean lion. Not at all. My eyes are glued to Calix’s hands as he hooks his thumbs into the tight fabric and pushes it down enough that I can see where his body hair grows a little thicker, leading down to his dick.

  “Don’t hurry back, Nemean.” At Grim’s words, I startle a bit. I was so busy watching Calix, I didn’t even think about Grim having to witness Calix getting naked.

  I drag my eyes from Calix’s lower body and meet his eyes. I can’t help the grin covering my face. No wonder he doesn’t have an issue with a little exhibitionism or an audience. “Are you sure you’re not a horse shifter?” I tease.

  Calix chuckles and stands in front of me, completely unabashed with his nakedness. “Try not to miss me too much.” He winks and turns around, giving me a good look at his ass, then struts out of the room.

  I shake my head, still smiling. “He’s cheeky.” I snort and look over at Grim. “Get it? Cheeky?” I’m such a dork.

  Grim’s lips are slightly parted, and the gray in his eyes are just tiny spheres around his dilated pupils. I lick my lips—he looks turned on. I don’t know if that excites me or makes me a little jealous.

  “You’re aroused,” Grim states.

  “So are you.” I wave my hand in his direction, checking to see if I can see the evidence in his pants. “That was pretty hot.”

  “Was it? All he did was undress.” Grim studies me.

  “Yeah, but he’s beautiful and looks like he was made for fucking.” I watch Grim for his reaction to my words.

  He surprises me by taking a step closer and reaching for the hem of his shirt. He drops it to the floor after removing it. Completely undaunted, he tilts his head to the side. “Am I?” He steps even closer, and I have to tip my head back to keep eye contact with him.

  “Are you what?” I whisper, my throat going a little dry. Calix is masculine, but Grim is male perfection personified.

  “Made for fucking?”

  Chapter 22

  I gulp, completely taken off guard by his question. He seems strangely sincere. I run my fingers from the outside of his shoulder over his collarbone to the center of his chest. I take in the lean lines of his physique and the sheer flawlessness of his face. It doesn’t seem fair that he would be so damn, cruelly perfect. Even if he had a micro dick, he would still be a wet dream. But fortunately, I know from our little make-out session that he’s not hurting in the package department either.

  “I want to know what you feel like inside me, what you sound like when you come,” I tell him with all honesty.

  Grim exhales loudly enough that it could be considered a low groan. “I think I was made to fuck you.” Heat flashes in Grim’s eyes as a pool of warmth settles low in my belly.

  “Aren’t those just the sweetest words.” I lean up on my toes and softly place my lips against Grim’s. My hands immediately go to his shoulders so I can steady myself. There’s something about him that makes me forget all reason, makes me want to just climb right inside him and curl up like a contented cat basking in the sun.

  Grim grabs my wrist and glides it down his body. He sucks in a breath as my palm brushes over his nipple, only releasing it when I guide my fingers back up and gently flick it with my fingernail.

  His grip tightens on my wrist and he drags my hand down over his obliques, I can feel his muscles shifting under my touch, jumping up to meet my fingers as if he can’t wait for me to caress more of him.

  We move my hand lower and it becomes clear pretty quickly that he can make these clothes disappear just as easily as the cloak. I gasp when I feel the little indent next to his hip. Grim slides his tongue, still tangling with mine, deeper into my mouth, and makes a masculine sound of need.

  With a quick, jerky movement, Grim places my hand on his cock. I lick his lip with the tip of my tongue then retreat from the kiss so I can look down at him. His much larger hand is still locked around my wrist. I curl my fingers around his dick, and his knees bend slightly as he tips his head back on his shoulders. “Made for you,” he murmurs, sighing as I move my hand up and down a few times, jacking him off.

  While Grim’s chest is bare, he has a thin line of dark hair leading from his b
elly button down to his thick cock. He may not be as long as Calix, but fuck if he isn’t just as perfect down here as the rest of him.

  “Damn, I think you’re right. How can you have such a pretty dick?” I lower myself to my knees, kissing my way down his belly as I do. Grim’s breaths are coming in short, heavy pants. I look up to find him staring down at me, his chest heaving as if he’s just run a mile. He releases my wrist then slams his hand against the wall, and I hear the plaster crack. “You’ll be fixing that,” I singsong, before taking him into the warm, wet heat of my mouth.

  I let my eyes close, and a soft moan vibrates up my throat. Damn, he even tastes good. I never mind giving head—I like being the one to give pleasure—but giving Grim head is fucking magical. He smells like clean soap and tastes refreshing, like a cool glass of water on a hot day.

  Grim’s knees soften, and his thighs begin to tremble a little. You’d think he’d never had a blowy before. “Oh stars,” he groans, while threading the fingers of his left hand into my hair. I’m not expecting the gentle way he cradles the side of my head, or the soft murmurs he’s making. Keeping my hand fisted around his base, I pull my mouth all the way off him, but continue to slowly stroke Grim’s dick.

  “This changes nothing,” I warn the both of us. I could grow addicted to the way he’s making me feel right now.

  Grim’s eyes flash with that fiery heat. With deft movements, he reaches down and slides his hands under my arms, lifting me from the floor as if I weigh nothing. “Fuck you,” he growls. “It changes everything.”

  I don’t even have a chance to respond before my back hits the softness of my bed. I’m surrounded by my own pillows and blankets with Grim over me. In complete contrast to his harsh words, his lips dip down to mine softly. He nibbles and kisses me like he’s begging for permission to deepen the kiss.

  The power shift is swift, and not all that welcome. If I thought I could become addicted to him before, now I’m worried I already am. I open my lips, and he slides his tongue into my mouth, turning his head from left to right as his lips dance over mine.

  I lift my knees to cradle Grim between my thighs. It seems my body hasn’t received the message that I’m supposed to be resisting the temptation or, at the very least, I should be the one in control.

  Instead, I find myself regretting the fact that I can’t make my clothes disappear the way he can. My fingers travel over his back, and his skin is as smooth as silk. I can’t feel even the smallest imperfection as I reach lower and grab hold of his ass. Grim hisses as I push him harder against me.

  I turn my face away from him so I can catch my breath, but he continues kissing my jaw and neck. “Let me in, Damiana,” he purrs into my ear. I know he’s not referring to just my body. I bury my face in his neck. I wish I had the willpower to refuse him again, but I don’t. I don’t even want to try.

  Grim slides his hand under my shirt, and my breath catches as his warm palm skims up my ribs, his long fingers trailing up my side until he finally cups the underside of my breast. “I want inside you so fucking bad, my body aches.”

  Oh lord, don’t tell me that Grim, my stoic gentleman, is a filthy talker. I don’t think I’ve even heard him curse before the last ten minutes.

  My back arches off the bed when he brushes his thumb over my nipple. “I want to know what you taste like when you scream, when you quiver. I want to know what you will smell like after I come inside you, watch your eyes when I’m buried deep. Will I be able to touch your soul again when you come for me?”

  A soft whimper of need has me clenching damn near every muscle in my body. “Shut up and fuck me!” I demand, my voice harsh. I don’t like that every word that crosses his lips makes me want him more.

  “I will not just be fucking you, Damiana,” Grim whispers into my ear, and bites the bottom of my earlobe.

  I hold my breath and dig my fingernails into his ass. Is this it? Was he just trying to make me desperate for him to prove something?

  “I’m going to worship you, and if you’re a good girl…” Grim pinches my nipple between two fingers. My breath leaves my lungs with a heavy pant. “I’ll let you have my soul.”

  Even with as turned on as I am, his words register, and I push Grim’s shoulders back so I can see his face.

  “Why would I want your soul?” I search his eyes. Does he think I want to feed off of him?

  Grim’s eyes are heavy-lidded as he gazes down at me. “Because it’s already yours.” Before I can ask him what he means, he kisses me again, all soft and sweet. He releases my breast and glides his fingers over my side until he reaches the waistband of my pants. He pauses there, asking for permission.

  I lift my hips without breaking our kiss. I have no idea what he meant, but if he’s offering his soul, I’ll take it and hoard that shit like a dragon with treasure. I won’t ever let him leave me. I shake that thought away, scared that it even came from me.

  When I allow him to pull my pants down, Grim pulls back from the kiss, giving me a few open-mouthed pecks before kissing his way down my chin and throat. His hand shoves my shirt out of the way as he uses his nose to nuzzle between my breast. I feel his tongue make a swipe from left to right before he moves his focus over to my right nipple. I cradle the back of his head as his lips pucker around my peak, slightly tugging me into his mouth.

  I look down as he kisses my tit as if it can kiss him back, his tongue sweeping from left to right, then up and down. Grim’s eyes are glued to the spot he’s kissing. I watch as his lips pull back in a snarl before he snaps his head forward and bites my nipple. I cry out, and my back and neck arch clear off the bed. The small amount of pressure he’s supplying isn’t enough to hurt, just enough to make my entire body sing.

  He releases the bite and returns to soft, open-mouthed kisses. When the ache subsides and I collapse back against the bed, Grim murmurs, “That was too rough,” against my skin, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

  I shake my head from left to right, but I can’t come up with the right words to tell him just how fucking perfect he is. Both of his hands curl around my back and he lifts me slightly to meet his searching lips. His tongue swirls around my belly button before dipping in and out quickly. My pussy aches with an empty throb, almost like a sympathy pang.

  Grim’s fingers dig into my hips as he continues to move lower. “I can smell you.” He buries his nose right above my fabric-clad pussy. His shoulders and chest swell with the deep inhale he drags into his lungs. His hand trembles as he draws his fingers over my lower stomach, pulling my pants off as he does. A slight burn tells me he’s probably leaving the evidence of his excitement on my skin. Something inside me purrs with the thought of him leaving his mark on me.

  I lift my hips again, and as he tugs the material down, my cute, black panties get tangled in with the fabric. Grim lifts himself off me and kneels between my legs. His eyes are locked on my body, furiously searching every inch of my exposed flesh. I wriggle a little, wondering if he’s going to finish the job of removing my pants.

  His eyes bolt up to mine. “I want to do things to you.” Grim bites his bottom lip and his head shifts from left to right in a tiny movement.

  He prowls forward on one hand and reaches for my pants with the other. “What kind of things?” My voice has gone husky with need.

  “I want to bite you right here.” Grim gently strokes his fingers over the flare of my hip, while his lips peel back off of his teeth. “And here.” His fingers dance to my inner thigh as he pulls my pants the rest of the way off. I swallow.

  “I want every inch of my body to cover yours. I want you under me, around me. I want to be inside you so deeply, you won’t know where you end and I begin.” His words are spoken like a confession, as if he will be punished for his thoughts.

  His eyes meet mine again, and his brow is furrowed. “Is that normal?”

  I lean up on my elbows, his question catching me off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “When you fuck, is it
always like this?” Grim stares at me earnestly. Even now, his hand is flexing on my thigh, like he’s restraining himself from acting on his words.

  “Wait a minute: you’re asking like you don’t have any personal experience.” I almost chuckle at how absurd that thought is. Grim doesn’t respond, so I continue, “You do what feels right to you. If you hurt me or get a little too rough, I’ll let you know. Are you a safe-word kind of guy during sex, or what?” I settle myself back against the bed.

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know after,” he promises, all sincere like.

  I let out a slight, nervous chuckle. “As long as you’re not trying to hurt me, as long as it’s just…” I stumble, looking for the right words. “If you want to cause me pain, or punish me, I’m not really into that. I mean, a spanking can be fun, but I don’t get off on pain or torture.”

  Grim’s face darkens as I talk. Something inside me thinks maybe I would let him hurt me if he really wanted to. If it would take the angry scowl off his face, I just might.

  “Someone has hurt you?” Grim’s eyes narrow as an eruption of fire dances in his gaze.

  “Uh, no. I mean, not really. Like I said, I’ve never really gotten into that kink, but I’m not going to judge you if that’s what you like.” I marvel a little at why we’re even having this conversation right now.

  “Later, you can tell me their names and I will rip their souls from their bodies.” Grim relaxes his grip on my leg.

  “You say the sweetest things.” I trace my finger down his nose.

  “I’m going to taste you now,” he tells me, and lowers his body back to the bed. His face goes right between my legs and he licks my labia.

  “Okay,” I sigh, and open my legs a little wider. There’s no need to beat around the bush; I’m happy to oblige.

  Grim grabs my hips and drags me a few inches closer to his mouth. “Oh stars, you’re so soft.”

  I reach one arm up above my head and fist the sheet, the other I thread into his hair. “Stop talking,” I demand, and lift my hips a little to meet his mouth.