Page 101 of Mated to Monsters
He travels on, leaving a wet trail of kisses over my stomach until he reaches the line of my skirt. Standing for a moment, he rips off his shirt. Then, moving to the foot of the bed, he reaches up with one hand on each of my hips and slides the skirt down my legs.
Lifting his knees to balance on the edge of the bed, he leans down to nuzzle my panties. Through the fabric, he grazes his teeth lightly across the material. “More,” I mumble breathlessly, my hand bunching in the sheets. “More.”
He lifts my hips, removing my last stitch of clothing just as easily as the rest. Then, positioning himself in the bed on top of me, he crushes his mouth to mine in a hot, searing kiss that’s as urgent as I feel. One hand snakes down to stroke my center, gently and reverently.
“More,” I repeat, my voice getting more insistent this time. “I want all of you.”
He doesn’t hesitate to give me what I want, stripping his pants off so that there is nothing between us. Sitting across my hips, he doesn’t enter me yet. Instead, he leans forward to tease my breasts, tweaking the nipples until I moan again.
Then he slips inside of me, and the tingling sensation blooms. It pulses out from my center, growing with each of his thrusts. He covers my body with his, resting his head in the crook of my neck.
My hips rise, moving to meet his motions. He fills me in a way that I had not known was possible, and it doesn’t take long before I’m breathless again.
He nips at my neck, and my climax crashes over me like a powerful wave. It’s made more potent by the way my heart flips over when he calls my name. He’s reached the pinnacle with me, and I can feel him release his seed.
He leans down, rolling off me to the side, careful not to crush me. Then he wraps me in his strong arms, kissing my sweat laced brow.
I lace my hand through his, looking at the way our fingers intertwine. It makes me smile to myself. Whether or not I deserve it, I truly am happy, in a way that I never knew I could be.
61
KHA’ZETH
The summon rouses me from my studies in the royal library.
“Honorable one,” comes the deep and grinding voice of a trolvor. Ever since the raid on Protheka, they’ve started using a myriad of odd titles to refer to me. As if my service to the Crown was optional. “The King requests your presence.”
Of course he does, I think, slapping the tome closed. “Now?”
“Now,” comes the trolvor’s reply.
And that is how I find myself pacing down the main hall of the royal palace, avoiding the glinting red light of the ceiling above. The dark marble that enshrouds us dampens the worst of it, but I still shield my eyes from the magical light.
“This way.”
“I know where the throne room is,” I snarl, glancing down at my guard, who is as much a mouthpiece for the King as he is a weapon against me if I disobey his orders. King Asmodeus has rarely ever hidden his intentions. From me, at least.
Tonight, I hope it is not my failings that have encouraged this meeting.
But when I step into the throne room, the lone seat is empty. I stand opposite it anyhow, keeping my hands clasped behind my back in reverence. A jolt of chaos magic shoots through me when I hear his voice behind me, in a tone I can’t defy.
“Soz’garoth, it is good of you to join me.”
I pivot on my heel to find the source. He approaches from a side hall, towering over me by several feet. No matter how many times I speak with him, I can’t ignore the wave of terror that follows. It is how he maintains his control over Ti’lith, no doubt. But I am a soz’garoth, one of his most valued assets.
“My King, it is a pleasure.”
His chuckle speaks to the contrary, as if he knows the effect he has on every living creature in his presence. “I have a gift for you, Kha’zeth. One I think you’ll enjoy.”
A gift? Do I want what he has to offer?
“I am honored,” I say anyway, bowing deeply as I hear the shuffle of bare feet against obsidian tiles. When I lift my head again, twenty or so humans gather in the archway, shivering and filthy in their rags, led by several trolvor with long spears.
My confusion mounts when the King signals for them to be brought forth. “You may have one of your choosing. Consider it a reward for your efforts.”
I look over the sorry lot, disinterest evident on my face, though I don’t speak to it. Instead, I gesture to the trolvor guards who surround the group of humans. “I can’t see them when they’re huddled up like this.”
They need no more instruction, prodding and shoving the humans until they’re in a rough line, weeping and sniveling abound. Most keep their gazes to the floor, but all of them are filthy, covered in grime. Even their hair is matted and tangled, so that I can’t tell if they know any color other than a muddy brown.