Page 52 of Grotesque Love

I huff.

Taking control, I deepen the kiss, fuelled by a hunger that has been building between us for far too long. Our bodies press together, fitting perfectly as if they are meant to be intertwined. Our tails interlace, forming a unique connection that neither of us have with Sax, and the sensitive grate of his skin against mine makes me shiver with longing.

Everything else melts away, leaving only the raw, primal passion that consumes us both. We lose ourselves in each other, surrendering to the intensity of our connection.

Malachite’s hands roam over my body, tracing every curve and contour with a reverence that sends a thrill coursing through me. He’s never touched me like this before, and I find myself pressing back into his hands, silently asking for more.

With each touch, each caress, the heat between us rises, igniting a blaze of desire that threatens to consume us whole. We pull each other closer, our hearts pounding in sync as we revel in the intoxicating rush of sensation.

And then, with a hunger that borders on desperation, our lips find each other again, moving with a fervour born of longing and need. Time seems to stand still as we lose ourselves in the passion of the moment. We become two souls entwined in a dance of desire and longing.

But even as my heart soars that we’re finally completing our family the way we were always meant to, a part of me still struggles with the knowledge that Malachite is only allowing himself to be vulnerable with me in this moment because he’s hurting and feeling unwanted. I need to show him that isn’t the case. Sax and I both love Mal, and Ari will too if he lets her in.

I need to find a way to make him see that. To make him understand. He’s needed. Our family wouldn’t be the same without him.Iwouldn’t be the same. This can’t be a one time thing between us. I can’t let him pull away and go back to treating me with barely disguised contempt.

As our kiss deepens, a surge of possessiveness washes overme, a need to submit to him and let him claim me as his. I want him to know that there’s a tender affection between us that transcends mere physical desire.

I caress his cheek, savouring the coolness of his skin against my fingertips. Our breaths mingle with sighs and soft murmurs of pleasure. I feel more connected to Mal than I ever have before as I lose myself in his kiss, his touch. Beside us on the stove top, the soup bubbles away, completely forgotten.

SAX

After the others leave, Ari remains curled up in my arms, seeking comfort where she can find it – be it with her face buried in my neck or nestled into the crook of my arm.

It’s the first time in centuries that I have ever wished to share body heat. It would be nice to warm Ari, to offer that solace, but instead I rely on the blankets and the fire that Jasper built to keep her comfortable. My cool-to-the-touch skin doesn’t seem to bother her because she manages to doze off with her head on my chest.

As Ari sleeps, a sense of peace settles over me. I watch the flickering flames of the fire dance in the darkness, casting a warm glow over the room. Despite the centuries that have passed, this moment feels timeless, as if the world has faded away, leaving the two of us in our own little sanctuary.

I gently brush away a strand of hair from Ari’s face, marvelling at the delicate features that seem so out of place for our shabby tower room.

Silently I promise to do whatever it takes to keep her safe, for as long as she will have me and my brothers by her side. I vow to protect her at all costs, shielding her from the dangers that lurk outside our fragile bubble of warmth – even the dangers in her own mind if that’s what it takes.

She stirs, murmuring something in her half-slumbered state,a frown marring the beauty of her face. She cries out, jerking in my hold as her eyes snap open in panic.

“Ari, it’s okay. You’re safe,” I whisper softly, tightening my grip around her, attempting to ground her with my touch. She blinks rapidly, trying to orient herself in the dimly lit room.

As her breathing gradually slows, she looks up at me with a mixture of fear and gratitude in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, her voice still laced with remnants of whatever nightmare had gripped her moments ago.

“Don’t apologise, Arianwen. You have nothing to be sorry for,” I reassure her, brushing a thumb across her cheek to wipe away the lingering tears. The vulnerability in her gaze tugs at something deep within me, a fierce protectiveness that makes me tighten my resolve to shield her from harm.

Silence settles between us, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the sound of our intertwined breaths.

“What happened?” Ari’s voice is barely above a broken whisper, scratchy from all the sobbing earlier.

“Mal found you, upset and unresponsive. We brought you here to our…space. I wanted you to be safe. What do you remember?”

“There was a phone call…” she begins, hesitantly. I nod, silently encouraging her to continue as I stroke her hair. “It was…him.”

Him.

The Lord of the Manor.

A title he’s undeserving of. The mere mention of his name brings a snarl to my lips. He is a darkness, looming over us like a storm waiting to break.

Ari’s eyes reflect the firelight, and in them a deep, lingering terror. I’m unsure of the conversation that occurred, but it’s like the weight of his words have wound their way around her in a suffocating shroud.

Her thoughts are broadcast clearly on her face, a struggleplaying out in her mind as she tries to recall what had her so upset.

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