Page 19 of Monstrous Serpent

He licks my entire face—chin, cheek, forehead, then goes for my mouth, which is disgusting, but I let him do it anyway because it’s better than anything else that's happened this week.

I wrap both arms around his neck and bury my face into the warm fold behind his ear. “Missed you.”

“Cody, is that you?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

She comes around the corner from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel before pulling me into a hug. “Didn't expect you today.”

I bend and kiss her cheek. “Just need some quiet.”

She scans my face, letting a beat pass before she steps back. “Hungry?”

“Ehh.”

She quirks a brow.

“Okay, I am.”

“I'll make you something.” She smiles, then heads back into the kitchen.

Blue follows me into the living room, his body pressing against my leg. I drop my backpack next to the couch, toss my keys onto the coffee table, then toe off my sneakers before flopping onto the couch. Blue hops up beside me, which he's technically not supposed to do, and rests his massive head on my lap.

Mom comes back with a glass of apple juice and sets it on the coffee table. “How was practice?”

“No practice today. Preseason rules. Coach only gets us eight hours a week.”

“Well, you've got a few hours of quiet before Davis gets home.” She glances at Blue, eyes narrowing for a moment before looking back at me. “Your brother has been insufferable. Apparently, seventh grade is the beginning of the end of his social life.”

I huff a laugh, shaking my head. Last week, my little brother almost cried because someone made a group chat without him.

“Rest, sweetheart. You look tired.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She walks back into the kitchen. After taking a long sip of the juice, I lay back and shut my eyes, running my fingers along Blue’s fur. My breathing slows and my body sinks deeper into the cushions.

I could use a nap.

Blue shifts, adjusting his weight, and one of his paws drags right across the bruise on my thigh.

I hiss, and his head pops up, ears perking like he thinks he did something wrong. “You’re fine, buddy.”

It's not his fault some asshole twice my size tackled me into the dirt. That bruise and the two on my ribs and the one across my lower back—they’re all from the same guy. Same one who wrapped his hand around my throat.

My jaw clenches.

If I ever find out who those assholes are, I'm breaking every finger on both their hands, starting with the one who grabbed my hair and yanked my head back.

That wasn’t even the worst part, though.

Nope.

It’s the fact that I got hard.

Not a little. Not some half-assed adrenaline spike that went away once the danger passed. No. A full-on aching erection. Even when I was fighting.

Yeah, okay. My dick started to fill when I saw Cindy getting railed against a tree. But when those two pressed in on me—one dick against my ass, the other shoved against my mouth—I came.