Page 55 of Fated to the Gargoyle

He stays buried, still pumping his release into me. When he calms, he draws back, and then he stops. I peek over my shoulder and catch my giant kicking his pants down until they hang off one ankle. I would laugh at him if I had the air to spare.

Then he grips my hips tight and slams back into me. I find the strength to push up onto my elbows and scream.

He does it again and again, no rhythm left in it, only want. He drives into me until his heavy sac slaps loud against my pussy with every stroke. I grip the sheets as hard as my numb fingers allow and I take it, every slam, with my own tongue hanging out and my eyes rolling back. I brace for each one and get rearranged anyway. He is tearing my pussy up, exactly like his leaked thoughts promised. And I remember how that thought ended. I would thank him.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

He pulls out of me so sudden it snatches the air from my lungs. He flips me over and picks me up, and then he’s inside me again, standing now. One arm does all the work, bouncing me on his dick, the other claw spread wide across my back. My head falls back. I give up steering entirely, and what he craves is me, dropped deep onto him over and over while that tongue helps itself to my cheek, my neck, everything it can reach.

He’s close. And when I come again I squirt, all over him, all down the both of us. My release and his make an absolute crime scene of that floor. Do I care? Not one bit.

He slams me down a final time, and his roar shakes the windows. He presses his head hard to mine and empties everything he has left into me, every drop he’s been holding.

At this point, I hope he gets me pregnant.

Wait a minute. Would I lay eggs? Because I am NOT pushing big-ass eggs out of me.

He lifts me off him and carries me to the bed. He climbs in and sets me on top of his chest.

“I think I may have gotten carried away,” he says.

I push myself up to face this monster. My face is sweaty, there’s drool involved, and I can’t promise there’s no snot. My eyes are puffy from crying through the best wrecking of my life, and he thinks he MAY have gotten carried away. He said the same thing the first time.

He has got to be playing with me right now.

I faint dead away on his chest.

So this is what it means when you play too much with your monster.

22

SOREN

TWO DAYS LATER

Iland on the roof of Stanley’s Diner as her headlights swing into the lot. For two nights, I have kept my mate home, and this errand is the first one she would not let me talk her out of. One of the wolves drove her car up the mountain last night, and she has been itching to drive it since.

She parks and hops out, crossing the lot with her head already tipping back to find me. I drop from the roofline and land on the sidewalk right as she reaches it. I cannot resist. I pull her up into my arms, her feet clean off the sidewalk.

“I really wish you could fit in my car,” she says into my chest. “But I couldn’t handle flying today.”

I nod and press my forehead to hers. A full night of filling my mate will do that. She will be carrying our first hatchling soon, and flying will be the least of it.

I set her down, and she heads for the door. She stops at the window, and her face goes flat. A waitress she doesn’t know is working her tables, and the Help Wanted sign is still taped in the glass beside the door. She grunts at it. “Andy couldn’t even wait a week.”

I rest a hand on her shoulder. “He has a business to run.”

She flicks a hand at the sign. “Well, I was gonna ask if I could work part time. As something to do.”

I frown, and I bend all the way down so she can see it.

“Don’t give me that look.” She pokes my cheek with one finger. “If I sit in that cabin all day and night, I’ll just turn into your fuck doll.”

I smile.

She runs a hand over my chest and cuts her eyes around the lot. “Mm. See, that’s exactly the energy I’m talking about.”

I was relentless last night. I am not apologetic about it.