Page 125 of Bride of Choice

My hips jerked at the first tap of the tips of his fingers to the spot.

Nope. Not feeling like fighting to be free right this minute at all.

“Mine,” he muttered gutturally, still riding that high, nipping at my shoulder and tapping the spot once more.

Again and again, he did this, a nip, a tap, a press of his hips as I writhed on his dick, until I came one last time, pinned in place while he consumed me.

When he released me I wilted to a puddle on the bed, content to just drift off to sleep, wrung out in every way imaginable, but he wasn’t done. Not yet.

Apparently, he needed another taste.

Twin loud cracks sounded and he groaned and shuddered atop me. Whatever he was doing solo above me, it only lasted but moments.

Thick hands grabbed my shoulders. Rolled to my back, he made an absurd amount of eye contact as his large body dipped and he proceeded to eat me out. Eyes as dark as night piercing into mine, he lapped his own cum up along with my cream. That look in his eyes screamed, See who’s fucking you? ME. Never forget it.

By the time he was done and my pussy was numb from his mouth vibrating against it as he purred his little heart out, I felt barely coherent, aware enough to gather he had absolutely zero intentions of staying to rest with me as he hesitantly rejoined me at the side of the bed.

Used to it at this point, sadly, I mumbled, “Fine. Fucking leave. Asshole,” and rolled over, dragging his blanket over me to hide my flushed, disappointment filled expression with a jaw cracking yawn.

I’ll care later, in the morning, after I’ve woken up.

He remained until my breathing eased and I feigned sleep. It wasn’t that hard to do— I was already half asleep, no pretending needed. After a light dousing of dust of shame I wrinkled my nose at, Bum-bum couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

Shoving the pinch of rejection worming its way to the surface down, deep, deep down into that well of emotions it was going to sit in and die if I had my way, I dozed off for a little while, too tired to care about much of anything, or so I kept telling myself.

My life was already fucked. What was one more fucked up quasi relationship/fuck buddy, whatever the fuck we were.

Unlabeled. I supposed that fit. The neat, tidy little boxes the Lo denaii seemed to come in, I was really into off label shit, apparently.

Ugh. Even with beast men my tastes ran obscure. Sure, maybe some of this was a them problem, but I had to acknowledge I was an oddball magnet and inadvertently… a chunk of this could be a me problem. It was definitely MY problem now. Oi vey.

It was much later that day, far past the several knocks at my door earlier that woke me enough I lifted up to tell whoever was making all that noise to fuck off, day bleeding into night, that I finally managed to fully rouse.

Did I have to get up? Sleeping a few days away sounded pretty darn good right now.

Unsure whether the trauma of my Krampus adventures were rearing their head or that well had exploded, spewing the ugliness I held back all over me like a shrapnel laden pour down of depressing shit, or maybe a little bit of column A with a sprinkle of column B but I was totally feeling it.

The main reason I finally dragged my carcass from bed was simple— my tootsies were cold and my nose felt frozen.

It was dark in the room. The fire was almost out.

Getting it going again, absently feeling around my back for any tell-tale signs of a mating mark from Bum and finding zip, I frowned as I spied two telling half circle shapes near the foot of my bed. Were those…? No way.

His horns. Collecting them, I quickly wrapped them up in shirt scraps and stuffed them inside my purse like they were some sort of illegal contraband I was loath to part with. That banana yellow monster was big enough inside they both actually fit with a bit of room to spare.

I was far from stupid when it came to men like Bum-bum. Even if I was dumb enough to keep dealing with them, god help me, and continue chasing after that wild, Yeti smex induced high.

Well, if I couldn’t have him all to myself, for realsies, I could take this piece of him to keep with me. I wasn’t living in some fantasy land where everything would turn out cupcakes and rainbows— Bum-bum was a hard sell and far from any kind of Prince Charming, prince anything for that matter. He thought Cuddle Monster was all wrong for me, unsafe, and seemed to have maybe even have convinced my Fuck and Run of this. Maybe Bum-bum was going off of his own person struggles with the ladies. You know, before I wrecked him for anyone else, ahem. Maybe it had to do with similar concerns I’d had— the whole fuck me to death thing.

A small, silly smile tipped my lips. Two wild encounters with horned hybrids and I was still kicking, baby.

Perhaps my reluctant lover needed time to think about it, ruminate or… whatever it was he should be doing before he really thought about it and changed his mind about hybrids and humans mating.

Hah. Okay, maybe I’m a wee bit stupid and a smidge crazy. I could accept that. I’d have to be to keep tangling with the bunch I’m down with.

My smile dipped as I glanced around, eyeing the door and then the windows. There was a special kinda crazy I was absolutely not cool with, the Krampus-snatching kind.

My hands shook and I flexed my newly healed leg. Biting at my lip, I wrapped my arms around myself. Nope. Never gonna be down with the skinny demon beast shit. Nuh-uh.

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