Page 59 of Mated to Monsters

The sight makes me ache, but not with hunger.

She doesn’t know I’m here, yet. I can tell by the way she’s breathing, shallow and panicked. Her red lips are parted to reveal a beautiful set of flat white teeth. She’s rested her head in the crook of her shoulder, and her hands are balled into fists.

My gaze trails down to the swell of her perky breasts, and the sensuous curve of her hips, so unlike the sharp and narrow matrons I’m used to. I want to drag my claws over her skin and feel her shudder beneath me.

I reach for her impulsively, pausing just above the delicate length of her neck and withdraw. Not yet, I tell myself, wanting to draw this game out a little longer. Instead, I let her know she’s not alone by dragging a chair out to sit.

Her breath catches in her throat. “H- hello?”

I say nothing, serving a plate of binmou steak for myself. Her breathing becomes rapid again as she hears the scritch of my fork against the plate.

“Is someone there?”

So many questions, I think with amusement, leaning forward for a better angle. The golden prongs of my fork glide over her sun kissed flesh, from sternum to navel.

Her belly leaps at that as she issues a little gasp. “Ah-” I do it again, softer this time, so they don’t even leave a mark. Her stomach clenches as if she expects it, but she can’t stop a whine from escaping. “Please,” she whispers, “let me go.”

Never, I want to tell her, but that would ruin the fun.

I move quietly, stealing a bowl of garnish from the table and lean over her. With the serving spoon, I chase a line of the red stuff between her breasts, making her gasp at the chill. She tugs at her restraints, and tries to hide her face when my tongue makes contact.

Her skin is warm beneath my searching mouth, and a tight moan escapes her. I chase the paste from her fine skin, diligent in my task. I conclude with a whisper of a kiss in the hollow of her throat. She bites her lip as if holding back more sounds of pleasure.

I dare to stroke her short blonde hair, surprised at how a simple bath can make it gleam in the candlelight like this. When I first saw her, I thought she was a pitiable thing, ragged and filthy. But now, I could take my meal in the hollow of her stomach.

I think I’ll do just that.

She shivers under my touch, and when I place cuts of meat low across her hips like a belt. What need do I have for utensils? I press my open mouth to the first bite, coming away with a kiss to the round of her hip bone.

Her legs pull against the restraints, though it’s pointless.

She pedals her knees when I kiss closer to her navel, taking away a hearty bite of binmou. In my absence, I stroke the fair hair between her legs, fastidiously trimmed by my slaves. The simple gesture makes her writhe beneath me.

“Please,” she murmurs, her lips redder than before.

I’m not sure if she’s still begging to be let go, or if she’s growing as impatient as I am. My cock is already stiff in expectation, but not yet. I’ll save it until she can’t stand my teasing any longer, and then I’ll fill her up with everything I have.

I steal another bite, this one right above her downy muff.

Her body responds in kind, leaping at the sensation. It’s a thrill to realize she doesn’t even know who I am. If she did, she wouldn’t bother to beg me for her freedom. But it is nice to have found someone who doesn’t regard me with nauseating reverence. I am nothing to her but a set of lips and hands.

And I’m going to make her mine tonight.

I realize that she must be hungry, too. Aggilas isn’t known for keeping the entertainment well fed. They’re sustained on slop that even the Ur'gin wouldn’t touch.

I grin as I pluck a berry from a plate and put it to her lips.

She squeezes them shut at first, refusing my generous offer. These delicacies are rare, now that our home planet is gone. She should be grateful that I’m offering her them at all. But I also keep in mind that she’s been a slave since she arrived in Ti’lith.

I stifle my next words. Taste it.

I don’t want her knowing who I am just yet, and she’s already heard my voice. I pull the berry away and pop it into my own mouth, dropping down and pressing her lips to mine. She’s so adorably stubborn that it takes a moment for her to open. But when I crush the berry between my teeth and let a drop slip between her lips, she finally relinquishes. With a little moan, she accepts my offering, her mouth stained dark with the juice.

I taste her exhale between bites, enjoying how she croons at the flavor.

See? It’s not so bad, is it? My claws trace her soft jaw as it works, and she rests her head against the table in relief. “More- please…”

I obey, offering her another, which she accepts eagerly.