Page 70 of Mated to Monsters
Instead, she pretends to be too busy to see me there. She sways back and forth, flitting around her entourage. The way that her hips swing is clearly for my benefit, but she has to continue to keep up the illusion that it isn’t.
I find it more irritating that she won’t get right to the point.
I’ve rejected her advances enough times that I’m used to it. If she would quit playing around, I could just reject her again and go back to enjoying my night. Instead, I sit here seething at her thinly disguised pining.
It’s enough to be disruptive, enough to derail my evening out. But she doesn’t come close enough for me to tell her off. I know that no matter what her true intentions are, if I approach her table to demand that she leave me alone, it will look like I’m pursuing her.
The last thing I want is to make her believe that I’m following her, so I have to grit my teeth and ignore it. But it makes my blood boil, being forced to wait for what I know is coming.
It doesn’t take long for her, emboldened by the other tittering females and males, to sidle up while I’m waiting for another drink. I try to step past her dismissively, but she positions herself just so. I’m already in a foul mood by the way she’s ruined my night, and it doesn’t take long to push me over the edge.
She pushes me back until I have no choice but to sit on a chair behind me. Then she climbs into my lap, straddling me. “Get off,” I snap, having had enough. I’ve told her ‘no’ enough times, and I shouldn’t have to keep saying it.
She leans in to lick my ear. The sensation makes me shudder with revulsion. “You don’t have to play hard to get,” she coos. “You know that I’m yours to use.”
“Where can I return you?”
She pretends as though she doesn’t hear me, grinding against me. I’m ready to boil over, but it’s when she reaches under my clothing to grab my cock that I can’t control my rage.
There’s no line that she won’t cross. Nothing she respects, nothing that she listens to. I want her away from me, and I’m going to get it whether she likes it or not. I’m tired of being pushed around by some bossy, vapid matron that I’ve told time and time again to fuck off.
I stand up, dropping her unceremoniously from my lap. She lands on the floor in a crumpled heap, her face broadcasting her startled surprise. The other Matrons at a table stop giggling and abruptly go silent. The shock in the room is palpable.
She’s silent at first, not moving off the floor as she tries to take in what just happened. Then she stands up, propelled by her fury. I’ve humiliated her in front of her group. I’m not sorry at all, but I know that she can’t let it go at that.
I can feel her magics rising, her embarrassment and rage filling her. Her face burns, and her expression is dark with fury. I know that her magic is nearly on par with mine, and that she could kill me if she wanted to.
But I also know that she wouldn’t dare. Her relentless pursuit of me is because of her desire to be tied to the royal family.
If she kills me, she has nothing.
Plus, my father and I may not get along. I’m not even convinced that he likes me. But he’s not going to let some Matron get away with killing his son, even if he wishes he could do the same thing most of the time. It’s a matter of pride.
Thonir stands up, coming to stand behind me. It’s his silent way of reminding her that he has my back. He’s trying to encourage her to remember her place before she does something that she might regret. As men, we’re discouraged from squabbling with the matrons, but his loyalty is ultimately to me.
She must be coming to the same realization that she needs to temper her reaction. Because, as high as her magic is, she doesn’t unleash it. Instead, she tightens her lips in a thin line of barely contained fury, raises her hand in a dramatic fashion, and slaps me.
Hard. Her open palm delivers a solid blow against my cheek, and I can feel the blood immediately rush to the skin’s surface, angry and unsettled.
I take the hit, knowing that there’s no other recourse. She has to save face in this public scene, and I’m the one that put her into this position. I have no regrets, certain that she deserved it, but I also knew that payback would follow.
If I pursue it any further, the situation will only become more volatile. But maybe I’ve finally sent a clear message to her, one that will convince her to leave me alone.
For that, it’s worth taking the slap.
She tilts her chin up, haughty and proud. “You will be mine,” she hisses at me, her voice shaking with anger. “One way or another, you will be mine.
“It’s only a matter of time.”
Then she tosses her red hair over her shoulders and turns her head to give the other demons in her entourage a piercing look. Spinning on her heel, she marches out the front door, never looking back.
They scramble to their feet, whispering amongst themselves, and hurry to follow behind her. If they don’t, it would be seen as a betrayal. I’m sure, after the scene that she’s just created, none of them are eager to make an enemy of her.
I watch her leave, ignoring the stinging sensation in my cheek. My heart thrums with my own anger, vibrating through my body into a crescendo.
45
LAURA