Ruprecht finishes his orange, letting the spiral-cut peel fall to the ground. Before he can answer me, his nostrils flare. That, added to the horns, makes him seem more bull-like to me. The fur pelt shifting on his shoulders as he leans toward me doesn’t help my permission.
“I smell blood,” Ruprecht says after a moment. “There.”
Following the point of his claw, I look down at my hand. Even through the gloom of the dark forest, I can see the puncture wounds piercing my skin. “Damn it. One of those gnome things must have bitten me.”
“Nicklaus’s elves,” he corrects.
Right. The infamous Nicklaus that I’d rather avoid if I can.
On instinct, I wipe the top of my hand against the sequined skirt, wincing when the rough edges irritate the injury.
Ruprecht tsks. “Allow me.”
Allow him to do what?
I never get the chance to ask before he’s taken my hand gently between his claws. Lifting it up about chin-high on me, he bows his head and let’s loose his tongue. It’s at least eight inches long, and he’s able to swipe the length of it over my cuts before I can yank my hand back.
One touch. That’s all it takes. One touch of his hot tongue on my skin and my stomach goes tight.
Not from disgust or anything, though. Nope. That’s pure arousal.
Ruprecht hums as he settles my hand against my skirt again. “There,” he rumbles. “All better.”
He’s not wrong. Looking down at my hand now, it’s slick with the remnants of his saliva, but the puncture wounds… they’re gone.
I marvel at the unbroken skin. “You can heal injuries?”
“Minor ones, yes,” he answers. “I don’t often get the chance because, to be fair, I’m usually the cause of them. But that’s not all I can do with my tongue.”
Again, my mind goes straight to the gutter. Ridiculous, I know, considering he just came out and admitted he’s a dangerous beast, but he hasn’t hurt me. He healed me, and now all I keep thinking about is what it would be like to have that long tongue somewhere other than my hand.
I cock my head just so. “What else can you do?”
Ruprecht gives me a small grin that makes his strong features turn less demonic and a whole lot more intriguing. “I can tell if you’ve been naughty and nice. And you, Josephine Butler, have been a very good girl.”
Okay. The deep rumble of his voice went straight to my pussy that time. Thank God for the big fluffy skirt because I’m squeezing my legs together right now. If his sniffer can smell blood on my hand, how much you want to bet he can smell the way he’s affecting me.
I never thought I’d be attracted to a monster, but maybe it shouldn’t come as such a surprise. He’s tall, strong, and saved me when I was struggling to get rid of the elves myself. Survivalists do what they can to get out alive. Something tells me that, if I want to get through the rest of my three days in one piece, clinging to Ruprecht here might not be such a bad idea.
And if I start thinking about the birth control pill I swallowed this morning… the same pill that Sandra insisted would work immediately and last for the next thirty days at least… well, if he was interested in showing me what else he can do with his tongue, I have some protection.
Josie, Josie, Josie… you’re not really thinking about fucking a demon, are you?
Three days, I tell myself. I agreed to do whatever I had to to survive the beasts of Blackmoor. Sure, I guess I thought that meant I’d run and dodge and hide out until it was the twenty-sixth, but this could work, too.
Besides, some of the stories I read about the forest made it clear that it’s like Las Vegas in a way: whatever happens in Blackmoor, stays in Blackmoor?—
Ruprecht’s nostrils suddenly twitch flare again, eyes blazing brighter, the tip of his forked tongue lashing out to taste the corner of his mouth. His chest puffs out as he leans closer, using a claw to tuck a stray piece of my hair behind my ear.
“Come home with me, Josie. Where I can keep you safe from Nicklaus and his elves.”
Oh. Okay.
The beast might be more interested than I first gave him credit for. Because while I’m sure part of his offer has something to do with sticking it to the creepy elves that attacked, the other part? Yeah… he’s not looking at me and thinking I’m some puny mortal not worth his time.
Oh, no. I’m a good girl… and Ruprecht only punishes the bad ones.
What does he do with the good ones?