He’d be inside me, lost in his own pleasure, chasing his own climax . . . It might be easy for him to forget himself and his promise.
My mind whirred along the path to panic, going through all the ways he could grab me, flip me over, pin me down, shove my face into the mattress, making me unable to breathe . . .
“Sophie,” Monster’s voice found its way to me. “I will not touch you. No matter what. You’re safe.”
But the excitement was quickly fading already, replaced by fear and disappointment. The feeling of shame and failure choked me with unshed tears.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
Damn you Hunter Reed! Damn you and that night.
I dropped my gaze to my lap, and collected the torn sides of my nightshirt. With shaking hands, I tugged the material together in front of me, suddenly feeling the need to shield my naked body.
“Look at me.” His voice was low but firm and commanding, prompting me to obey. My hands stilled and my eyes snapped to his immediately.
“I swear,” he gritted through his teeth, yanking the top sheet from under the duvet.
“On my life.” He curled his fingers, forcing the claws out, and slashed through the material.
“I will not touch you.”
In quick, forceful movements he tore two wide lengths of silk from the sheet then threw them around each of the bedposts, tying the ends to make a big circle of fabric around each post.
Quickly, he made a loop out of each strip and threaded his hands through.
“I swear,” he repeated firmly and flexed his arms, forcing the loops to tighten around both of his wrists simultaneously.
He sat facing me now, arms spread wide, each wrist tied to a bedpost. His chest heaved. His hands balled into massive fists. His focused gaze watched my every move, every change in my expression.
He did this for me. Not only had he tamed the beast inside him, he physically tied himself to the bed to calm the feverish panic in my brain and help me go through with what I wanted.
Deep in my mind I knew that the silk would never really hold him. But his willingness to do this for me proved to be enough.
The full meaning of his gesture melted any remnants of hesitation inside me, making me want to be as close to him as possible. As close as only having him inside me would be.
“Come, Sophie,” he called. “Come to me. Because I can’t come to you now.”
There was just Monster here with me, my Monster, no one else. And I wanted him. So much.
I shrugged the nightshirt off my shoulders and threw my leg over his thighs, straddling him.
He released the breath he held and sank back into pillows when I wrapped my fingers around his shaft again, shifting my hips closer.
With fear gone, the sensation of his pulsing erection in my hand brought back the excitement of anticipation. His open expression gave me all the reassurance I needed.
I rose on my knees and hovered over him.
“You look like a warrior princess, ready to go into battle.” The stern focus on his face melted into an affectionate grin.
I gave him a smile in reply and dragged the head of his shaft through my folds.
He inhaled with a hiss, the grin quickly replaced by expression of tortured bliss.
Tension left my body, filling it with languid warmth instead. Slowly, I circled his tip around my opening, feeling my channel swell with liquid heat.
“I want you, Monster,” I whispered, aligning us perfectly together. “So, so much.”
I slowly lowered my hips, letting the tip slide in.
“Fuck, Sophie!” he groaned, his body vibrating with restrain. “It’s . . . heaven.”
I tried to sink lower, but sudden pain made me gasp and bend over. I fisted my hands in the fur on his chest and jerked my hips up, away from what was hurting me.
“You have to do it fast, princess.” I heard Monster’s reassuring whisper. “You’re in control. You have to do it yourself.”
Right.
Myself, because his hands were tied, literally.
I squeezed my fists tighter, closed my eyes, and took a deep inhale.
Fast.
The sharp pain blinded me for a moment when I thrust my hips all the way down, making me to cry out.
“It’ll be okay, Sophie.” His words filtered through, comforting and distracting me from the pain. “It won’t hurt for long. Just breathe.”
He was right. The pain was receding quickly. It already felt like a distant echo of itself, reduced to a dull ache.
Still gripping the fur on his chest, my head down, I focused on the sensations inside me as I began to slowly move my hips up and down, sliding along his shaft.
The smooth gliding felt soothing to the ache inside me, prompting me to move with added confidence. Up and down, gradually increasing my speed.
“Sophie.”
I glanced up at his sharp exhale.
“Too fast,” he groaned. “I won’t last.”
“Then don’t. I’m on a pill.” I smiled and circled my hips, enjoying the tingling sensation it caused, further alleviating the remaining ache. “Let go, my Monster,” I whispered softly.
The excitement bubbled in my chest, making me slightly lightheaded. “Please, let it go.” I moved faster, willing him to explode.
He arched his back and roared, baring his teeth. His biceps bulged under the fur, as his arms flexed in the restrains. The silk ribbons tore to shreds, unable to contain the beastly force, the moment he shuddered and his climax erupted inside me.
My own body shook, arms and legs trembling, but not from orgasm—there was no way I could have one this time, overwhelmed with emotional and physical sensations as I was—but from the receding adrenaline and excitement.
A light, sunny feeling floated through me, as I leaned forward, propped by my hands still fisted in the fur on his chest.
“Fuck. Sophie, being inside you . . . It was everything.” With a long groan, he stretched under me. “You can let go now.”
“What?” I sat straight and held my hands in front of me.
Unclenching my fists, I watched in horror as the thick clumps of Monster’s fur fluttered from my palms to his stomach and onto the sheets around us.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered, mortified. “Did I hurt you?”
“Well.” He sat up and circled my waist with his arms, the strips of silk dangling from his wrists. “I can honestly say that I felt your pain.”
Humour lightened his tone as I guiltily smoothed the fur on his chest, mechanically trying to cover up the small bare patches by brushing the remaining fur over them.
“I’m so sorry.”
He lifted my face, cupping my chin.
“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes grew more thoughtful, the twinkle of humour slipping aside. “How are you feeling?”
“How?” I felt a wide smile stretch across my face, letting the radiance inside me shine through. “Happy.” I threw my arms around his neck, crushing his mane. “You make me feel so very happy, Monster.”
“Can I finish it for you, though?” His voiced dropped down suggestively as he added with confidence. “I can make you come again.”
“No,” I giggled, shaking my head. I didn’t doubt his ability, but I felt so deliciously tired and still a tiny bit sore. “Later, darling. After we rest.” I relaxed into him, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Apparently, having real sex can be rather exhausting.”
He lowered us onto the pillows, throwing the covers over. The thick cloud of his fur enveloped me in a soft caress against my naked skin as I drifted asleep in his arms.
Chapter 33
MONSTER MADE GOOD ON his promise the very next day—making me come again and again.
In fact, since our first time, he made love to me almost every night. Sometimes with humour but always with tenderness and endless patience, he exorcised the darkness from my mind.
The horrifying memories that had been forever associated with a man’s
touch in my brain drifted into oblivion, as Monster replaced them with his own gentle caresses.
Soon, instead of dreading the night, I looked forward to it. It wasn’t that fear had disappeared completely. Panic would still raise its ugly head, even during my most blissful moments with Monster.
Only now I knew how to fight it.
Allowing his touch and his voice to lead me out of the dark, I always found my way back to joy. To him.
I couldn’t help but wonder, though, if our nights could be as fulfilling to him as they were to me. Not that he ever complained. On the contrary, he made me feel like being with me was the best thing in the world for him. Still, I sensed the intense passion Monster held in out of concern for me. I felt his arms shake and his body tense as he imposed invisible restraints on his desire, his focus always on me. And I yearned to release him from that.
As much as the unknown force intimidated me a little, the glimpses of the wild passion I’d caught deep inside him enticed me. I wanted for him to be able to make love in his own way, wild and free. With time, I was afraid that lying on his back for me would get old for both of us. And I wished he’d come undone.
Unfortunately, being pinned under him still remained one of the major triggers of a panic attack for me.
One snowy morning at the end of January, I padded in my thick, woolen socks into the living room, fingers wrapped around a warm coffee mug.
It was nice and cozy in there, now that all services were up and running at the house. And the room looked nothing like it did when I first saw it.
With the help of local craftspeople, I had all furniture repaired with new varnish and upholstery. Several large rugs, made by a group of mothers from Rocky River school, covered the re-finished floors.
Over the past weeks, Monster and I had made the house not only livable but warm and comfortable. We had made it ours. The pretentious extravagance of the previous décor was mostly gone now, replaced by the subtle beauty of local craftsmanship.
Monster insisted on paying for everything, allowing me to keep most of my money in charity programs. With a cheeky smile on his face, he claimed that being able to use his credit cards again—even if through me—made him feel like a man.
I stopped in front of the French doors watching the large, fluffy snowflakes falling leisurely outside. The winter hadn’t showed any signs of slowing down. Out here it was its realm, with snow covering the ground for six months of the year or more.
Without waiting for the snowfall to stop, Monster was out there clearing the driveway of whatever had fallen down overnight. He assured me it was easier to clear two-three feet of snow at a time than to dig ourselves from under twice as much of it after waiting for the end of the storm.
The house location was outside an internet service area. I couldn’t get a connection no matter how hard I looked into it. But I went to town regularly to check my email account while running other errands, visiting friends, and having the weekly phone sessions with my therapist.
There was still no reply from Cecilia, and I kept searching for any woman with that name who’d have any connection to magic. Still, hoping that the Cecilia I had found was the one who could free Monster, I sent a couple of follow-up emails to the organizers of the witchcraft fair in New Orleans and received a response that it had been forwarded to Cecilia but that was all they could do since replying to me would be entirely up to her. As was to be expected, they wouldn't allow me to contact her directly, citing their privacy policy.
All I could do was wait.
My frustration was easier to deal with as I watched Monster’s mood improve dramatically. As if the dark shroud surrounding him had been slowly lifting and he gradually allowed himself to enjoy life.
Making improvements around the property gave him a new purpose. I noticed how much he enjoyed working with his hands. Each accomplishment, no matter how small, brought him an obvious satisfaction.
I wished for him to be free but was glad to see him being able to create a fulfilling life for himself, even if within the confines of his prison.
With me here, he was no longer alone. Aside from my visits to town, we spent every day together. And our nights . . . The nights were filled with getting to know each other on a different level.
I wondered if there was a way for Monster and I to try other positions. Something that would allow him to take the lead but wouldn’t inadvertently set off another meltdown in me.
We’d learned that his hands were no longer a concern. He didn’t need to tie himself up for me anymore. However, the weight of him—the cage of his body surrounding me while I lay under him—still triggered the feeling of helplessness and desperate need to escape, leading to a panic attack.
Holding the coffee mug in both hands, I walked over to the far wall of the room, on the other side of the fireplace, and pressed my back to it.
Closing my eyes, I imagined Monster’s large body surrounding me, his arms flanking me. Immediately my breathing turned shallow, my heart jumped high into my throat, and I shoved away from the wall, desperate to escape.
With a frustrated groan, I took a few deep breaths, my gaze sweeping the living room.
Several thick, solid logs supported the upstairs balcony that ran along the perimeter of the open space below. I approached one of them and pressed my back to one of them.
The hardness of it pressed against my spine, but my shoulders were free. If Monster were here with me now, he couldn’t cage me with his arms. His hands would have to be high above my head or down under my ass.
I took a step to the side, and the feeling of the post behind my back disappeared—I was free. This was all I had to do to escape.
One step.
The thought of it immediately freed my mind of the impeding panic.
Leaning against the log again, I arched my back and closed my eyes, imagining my legs wrapped around him, his hips grinding into mine. His face would be so close to mine, his mane would tickle my skin, and his scent . . .
“Sophie?”
Brought out of my fantasy abruptly, I snapped my eyes open to see Monster by the front door shaking snow out of his mane and brushing it off his shoulders.
“Are you okay, princess? What are you doing?”
“You’ll have to come closer to find out.” I slid down the post, with my back against it, and sat the coffee mug on the floor. The breathy note in my voice must have been a hint to him. In a moment Monster was next to me, not asking any more questions.
I rose to my feet, my back sliding up along the post.
“Why does that look so fucking hot?” he mused and brushed his knuckles against the side of my neck. The soft tickle of his fur chased a flock of soft tingles down my skin.
“Does it?” I murmured, tilting my head to the side to expose more of my neck to him. “Must be my sexy socks.” I smiled, sliding my foot up his calf.
“That’s it.” He hooked his arm under my knee and lifted it to his waist then dropped his hand down to cup the heel of my socked foot. “The sexiest socks ever.” He leaned over me, nuzzling the top of my head. “Let me take you upstairs—I’ll blow them off you.”
The gruff rumble in his voice vibrated through my chest, sending a shot of liquid heat straight between my legs.
“Take me . . . right here,” I breathed out, raking my fingers through the thick fur on his chest and shoulders then sinking them in the mane behind his neck.
He groaned and rocked his hips into me.
Exactly how I’ve imagined it, and so, so much better.
His other hand cupped my ass, lifting me higher along the support post while I tore at the zipper of his jeans.
Holding me in place, he yanked my long shirt up and ripped it off over my head. The brush of his fur against my nipples made me gasp with the need for more. I dragged his jeans down and over his hard ass with my feet, setting his tail free.
He threw his head back, and a loud roar reverberated through the house in response to my frantic impat
ience. The scratching noise of claws of his hands imbedded in the wood above my head reached my ear. I tightened my arms and legs around him, my lower body wedged between his hips and the log post.
“Let go, Monster,” I urged. A hint of trepidation fluttered through the hot wave of excitement rising in me from releasing the beast.
“Sophie,” he gritted through his teeth, his arms strained, his biceps flexing on each side of my face.
“It’ll be okay,” I promised with confidence. “I want it. I can take it.” I wiggled my hips, rubbing against his hard erection trapped between us. The desire to have him inside me turned into pure agony. “I promise. I can. Please,” I groaned. “Fuck me, Monster.”
A dark shroud of lust drew over the hazel of his eyes.
With another deafening roar he drove into me, filling me completely and finally easing the pulsing need between my legs.
I dug my heels into his lower back, bringing him closer to me.
“Don’t stop,” I begged in a desperate whisper.
“If I stop now—I’ll die,” he growled, pounding into me in long, powerful thrusts. Each one taking me higher as the pleasure swelled hot inside me.
I clasped my hands behind his neck, riding the rhythm of his thrusts with him.
Don’t stop. Just you and me. I don’t want this to stop.
The whole world ceased to exist except for the two of us, swept in the wild frenzy with which he was taking me.
Another long roar rumbled from deep inside his chest, and I felt his release pulse hot inside me, taking me over the edge with him.
“My Monster,” I panted through the last tremors of our climax. “You’re all mine.”
His forehead rested against mine, his horns on each side of the pillar behind me. His wide chest heaved, fur stroking my naked breasts with each heavy breath.
“Sophie, that was . . . that was—”
“Fanfuckingtastic?” I giggled and buried my face in the side of his neck, basking in his warmth and my afterglow.
He cupped the side of my face.
“Better.” His thumb caressed my cheekbone. “Infinitely better.”
With my legs still wrapped tightly around his waist, I stroked the top of his tail with my bare foot.
To Love A Monster Page 19
