Page 47 of Monsters of Desire and Nightmares of Passion

My moans are my only reply.

We both shudder and crash hard. Khal embraces me in his arms as we land on the floor under the dripping, warm water.

“Oh, God,” I whisper.

I search for Khal’s mouth, needing to kiss him. I touch his fangs with my tongue. He darts out his long tongue and wraps it around mine, making me moan as his tongue massages mine. It tastes like me as well as has the coppery after taste of blood.

“I love that forked tongue of yours.”

“I love that pussy of yours.”

Khal helps me up and we kiss under the shower. The fingers of one of his hands rolls my left nipple. “I’m so tempted to use my claws to pierce one of your nipples.”

“Are you mad? Definitely no. Hell, no. Fuck no.”

“Why? You’d look gorgeous. And I’d love to chew your pierced nip.” The way Khal says it makes my knees go weak and my lungs hard to breathe. This man, this monster, knows exactly what buttons to push to turn me into his lusty slave.

“Maybe. I’ll think about it. How is it possible you guys scratch me and bite me and the wounds close so fast without leaving scars?”

“Our saliva is healing. And you’re our anchor, Ivy. None of us would ever hurt you.” He smiles his scary smile, and his eyes burn like blazing fires. “I can show you a few piercings I’d like to see dangling from your tasty breasts. Maybe that’ll change your mind about the pierced nip.”

I blush. “And what if I ask you to pierce your nipples? What would you say?”

Khal laughs. I watch his large, muscular chest and strong pecs. He has nipples, but they’re as black as night. My hands move to them and play with them. One of his hands moves to mine. Khal extends his index finger, slowly, as if he wants to make a point, and shows it to me. The finger is longer than a human finger and ends with a razor-sharp claw. The claw grows longer as I watch.

“What are you doing?”

“I can pierce my nips now if it turns you on, Ivy.”

“No, don’t. Please.”

His gaze is fire and heat, and it holds mine. “What about something else?”

I don’t have the chance to reply. He stretches out the left arm of his middle pair and cuts into his flesh with the sharp claw. Blood drips from the wound.

A wave of panic rises inside me. Why is he hurting himself? “What are you doing?”

“We marked you. Now I’m marking myself with your name.”

The I was already cut into his flesh. Khal flicks his tongue over the bleeding surface and the wound closes, leaving a scar.

“Why are you doing this? Isn’t it painful?”

“The pain of the body is a joke compared to the hurt of a broken soul, my love. I want to have you with me, always.”

His tongue touches my lips and paints some of his blood over them, like lipstick. It’s not red, but rather like a shade of deep crimson. He keeps going and soon my name appears on the inside of his arm. When he’s done, he presented me with his work and a huge grin.

“You like?”

“It’s wonderful.” I hold his gaze, take his arm, and kiss the freshly-healed scars. There it is, Ivy, my name scraped into his skin.

Khal switches from serious and deep to playful. Picking up a bottle of body wash, he looks at me with this huge boyish grin. He fills his palms with body wash and rubs it, churning it into fragrant foam. There’s a lot of foam resulting from six hands rubbing the oil together.

“I made you dirty, now I’ll clean you. Close your eyes. I’ll start with your hair. I like your long, dark hair. It’s gorgeous.”

“I can wash myself.”

“Shut up and do as I say.” Khal’ bossy voice makes me wet again.

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