Page 27 of Their Pretty Little Monster

“It’s too late for that, Sage, but unless you want to offer the same privilege to everyone else, I’d suggest changing into something else. All the clothes in your wardrobe were chosen to fit you.”

“Well, maybe don’t put a transparent outfit in there next time,” I say, irritated.

Killian clears his throat, the sound rough like gravel. “Let’s get you changed.”

As he guides me into my room, I pause and press a hand to his chest. “You wait for me out here.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward. “I like this stronger side of you. And this one time, I’ll abide by not coming into the room.” He leans a shoulder against the wall, staring at me, and his cockiness is out of control.

I enter my room and shut the door with a bang. Even from inside, I hear his laughter.

Rolling my eyes, I make my way quickly into the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the glass wall, not seeing any transparency. Then again, it’s not especially bright in here.

Quickly, I peel off the comfortable jumpsuit, then stand in front of the wardrobe again, butt naked and afraid of what the next outfit will do to me. As I rummage through the wardrobe again, finding mostly dresses, I finally pull out something that feels a bit more modest than the jumpsuit—black wide-legged pants paired with a pale green long-sleeved shirt.

I hold the shirt up to the light, ensuring it’s not revealing. Satisfied that it’s not, I dress quickly. The fabric is soft and stretchy, clinging in ways that emphasize every curve. Though the shirt’s low neckline and the way the elastic cinches just under my bust make me a tad self-conscious, it’s comfortable.

I’m not sure why every outfit has to highlight parts of my body I’m not trying to showcase.

I check my reflection once again; everything looks normal. With a deep inhale, I step out to meet Killian, who hasn’t moved from his position against the wall.

“Better?” I ask.

He lifts an eyebrow, his lips tugging into an amused smirk. “Perfect.”

I tug at the elastic under my chest, adjusting the fabric that insists on curling under my breasts.

He grins and gives me a slight nod, then we’re on the move. The awkwardness between us stretches out, and I still have so many questions, like…

“Why isn’t the portal on the boat? Would have been so much easier to get here.”

Killian’s lips twist into a half smile. “Thinking of returning home?”

“Of course,” I admit truthfully. “I worry about my mom, and I want to see her again. Plus, I asked a real question, especially after nearly dying outside the vessel.”

“I always keep my word, Sage.” He leans in, his voice a low rumble, and I catch my breath every time I’m in his space, inhaling his fresh woods and addictive caramel sweet scent, as well as the embers of fire that’s all him. “The constant movement of the ship, the vastness of the water… It makes transporting unstable. We tried once, and it was a disaster with our test subject lost in the middle of the sea.”

He draws back, and his muscles bulge against the fabric. It’s impossible not to get lost in their movements. The cords in his neck tighten, too, that strong jawline with the faintest hint of stubble. Everything about this man… no, this monster… fills me with dirty images. I’ve never been with a man before, never been drawn to any in such a way.

It’s bad enough that I’m here to be his bride, but then to feel the fire between my thighs, the moisture that builds up each time we’re near, is becoming too much. I keep imagining myself in his arms, his mouth between my legs, just like in the books I’ve read where the females always scream with pleasure. I never really understood the undeniable pressure in their body they spoke about until now.

It presses down through me, the sensation to be touched urgent, and again, I’m staring at his chest and lower. I once spied one of our Village Protectors naked by accident. No one saw me, but the sight both shocked and intrigued me. The man had a lot of hair, then his dangling?—

“If you keep staring at me that way, Sage, we’re not going to make it to dinner,” Killian promises firmly.

I nearly choke, my mind torn between embarrassment at being caught staring and the growing heat in my body that makes no sense to me.

“You say some really strange things sometimes,” I accuse, though I feel my cheeks burning up. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

“I didn’t say that lightly,” he murmurs, his words a warm caress against my cheek as we move to a set of circular steps made of metal. We pause, and his hand trails up my arm, stopping to rest gently at my collarbone. The touch is light, but it sends a shiver through me.

“Resisting you is becoming more difficult by the second, and I’m trying real fucking hard.”

I can’t breathe at his confession.

“Do you feel it?” he asks, his eyes locked on mine, searching.

“Your touch?” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. My body is hyperaware of his proximity, every nerve ending seeming to fire at once. My body sways in his direction, as though it’s betraying me.

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