Page 60 of Fated to the Gargoyle

“Look at you, doubling the population of this mountain.” I reposition myself across his lap so I can see his face. “Do you need to go hunt tonight?”

“No.” His claws curl in a little at my hip. “But I may need to meet with the dragon soon, if he calls on me.”

“I love that you’re helping out Shadow Wolf Creek.” I stretch up and kiss the underside of his jaw.

“It is our home.” His big clawed hand slides down and gives my backside a gentle pat.

I trace one of the seams on the shirt I made him, getting my nerve together. “You know what my favorite part of the day is? This part right here. When you first wake up, before you’ve got any words yet, and you just hold me.”

“I have a reason to live now,” he says. “Because of you.”

And there’s my opening, walking right up to me.

“Are you still wondering if I can love a monster?” My finger stops on the seam.

He smiles at me.

“Because I do.” I hold his eyes. “I love you, Soren.”

He goes quiet.

I know this quiet, and it’s not the good one. It’s the one from the last time I got close to those words, the one that lasted all day.

I push up off his chest to face him. “Well, you can’t make me feel bad this time.”

His eyes narrow at me.

I climb up off his lap and stand in front of him with my hands on my hips. “I’ve wanted to say it for a while now, and you scared me last time, so listen good. You’re just gonna have to get used to it. I love you, Soren. My monster. My gargoyle. And there is nothing you can do about it.”

I turn and storm off toward my stew. I said what I said.

My feet come off the floor. “Oh shit⁠⁠—”

He carries me into the bedroom and kicks the door shut hard enough to rattle the frames on the long wall. He sets me on my feet and leans down until his face is level with mine. His gold eyes burn steady on me.

“Take off your clothes,” he says, “or I will rip them off.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting my grin with everything I’ve got, and reach for my hem slow on purpose. He straightens up and strips his shirt and pants off in two pulls. His dick stands out in the lamplight, and there is nothing reasonable about it.

“Ohhh.” I fan myself with the hem I still haven’t lifted. “You’re about to be rough tonight?”

He doesn’t answer.

That’s the thing I clock too late. He’s done talking.

He hooks one claw in my panties and they’re gone in one quick tearing sound. A scrap of cotton hits the floor by the vanity. My dress goes up over my head while I’m still gasping about the panties.

“I should’ve known better than to wear panties,” I say, and then I’m off my feet. He drops to his knees, spreads one wing out behind me, and lays me back on it, my hips up in his claws and my shoulders resting on the warm stretch of him. My hair fans out across his wing. I straightened it for exactly this reason. That doesn’t mean I was ready.

His tongue is on me without one word of warning. He licks into my pussy, then lower, then back, no order to it, while I holler and grab the edge of his wing for dear life. There’s no talking me through it this time and no checking in. His breathing goes ragged, and the wet, filthy sounds of him enjoying himself fill our bedroom. I come fast and loud, and I am not one bit ashamed.

He doesn’t slow down. The next one rolls in before that one’s done, and somewhere in there I stop being able to tell them apart. My thighs shake against his grip, and the noise I’m making has left English entirely. I’m delirious by the time he folds his wing from under me and lays me on the bed, wrung out and calling his name.

He turns me onto my hands and knees, and before I’m even set he pushes into me, thick and already pulsing. I grab the headboard. Good decision. He takes my hips and quits being careful. Every stroke lifts my knees off the mattress and sets them down somewhere new. I can’t get a full breath around the size of him. The bed knocks the wall in a rhythm the whole mountain can probably hear, and I hold on and take my monster like I meant every word I said in that living room.

“Oof— hold on, Soren⁠—” My grip slips on the headboard.

Nope. He has no words for me, only that deep growl rolling through him and the slap of him against me. He drives me up the mattress and hauls me back until I quit asking him to hold on and start asking him not to stop.