Page 43 of Monsters After Dark

“Can you feel that, my sweet maiden?” he demands as he saws his thick cock shallowly in and out. “All the ridges are already inflamed. You have coaxed your monster with your naughty tongue halfway into a rut.”

He thrusts deeper suddenly, and I squeal, my nerves flaring to life and muscles straining in protest.

He growls when I try to buck him, pinning me more securely, plunging even deeper, opening me as he lowers his lips to nuzzle the side of my throat. One arm slides under me, bracing around my waist, pinning me absolutely still as he begins to rut.

My cries turn guttural, and my pussy gives under his sudden savagery. He growls, making the bed creak and rock as he deepens his strokes. The smaller ridges along his shaft flutter in and out, and the thick swelling of his greater knot bumps against my entrance with every firm slap of meeting flesh.

“Open up, little maiden,” he growls into my ear.

“I can’t!” My fingers clench into his soft fur at the scruff of his neck. He is bigger, harder, and barely restrained brutality as he powers into me, forcing my smaller, softer body to give.

Teeth nip against my throat before he growls and suddenly pulls out.

I blink up at him through the darkness, confused, bereft of his glorious cock.

There is a wicked glint in my monster’s eyes as he shifts back onto his knees. “I told you my needs were great tonight, that I would let my most bestial side out.”

I shake my head, realizing what he wants. Fear—genuine fear—rips through me.

“Please, it is too deep that way.”

White teeth flash before I am tumbled onto my front. Hips in his hands, I am dragged backward, his cock snagging the entrance of my slick pussy before slamming deep.

“Munnnnn!” Face mashed against the bedding, my mumbled complaints turn into harsh moans as the pad of one rough finger finds my clit and begins to strum.

And there I hang, knees dangling as I am slammed on and off his monstrous cock. Heavy thrusts take him deeper, his knot slipping in and out of my pussy, stretching me, sending new sensations spiraling through me.

My pussy flutters. I can feel its terrible openness as he powers into me. Inner muscles, utterly spent under the savagery of the coupling, have no choice but to give. Sweat bathes my body as wet slaps give an indication of how he ruins me.

Then I am plummeting into rapture, pussy spasming, his thrusts invading even further as he forces his swelling knot in and out. He is harder, thicker, and deeper than he has ever been, and I the helpless human offering with which he slakes his lust.

“Take all of me, little maiden,” he says, voice a raspy whisper.

Darkness comes for me as he squeezes his great hand around my throat. But it only rushes the sensations through me twice as fast.

“Give your monster what he needs,” he growls. My pussy squeezes in obedience to his command, feeling the great girth of his knot slip inside one last time and hold. “That’s it, my sweet little maiden. Give yourself to your monster.”

The welcoming darkness pulls me in even as my body convulses into an orgasm that shatters my very soul. I twitch, fighting the need for air as all my thoughts converge on the rippling climax. Pleasure, so much pleasure—dark pleasure—skittering, blissful pleasure.

Then the suffocating pressure lifts, and the sensations spark twice as brightly.

White-hot ecstasy dances across the surface of my skin. Inside, so deep, I feel the first hot jets of his cum. His roar of release is loud enough to make the walls and floor vibrate. I hang limp, cheek mashed to the bedding, body racked by heady shudders as my monster fills me all up. I want more of him; I always want more.

Gusty breaths follow as we remain locked together, my pussy clenching in little aftershocks, his hands now gentle as they hold me.

Once his knot softens and we can move, I cling to him, nestling within the cage of his arms, cheek to the soft fur of his chest as his hands roam over my back and ass. A deep, resonant purr emanates from his chest, and I cling harder, weeping from the intensity of what we have shared.

When my tears peter out, he eases away enough to place a finger under my chin and tip it so that he might see my face.

“What is it, love?” he asks.

“I—I don’t want you to go again,” I say. “I know that you must—that you are the monster who lives under my bed, and that you cannot possibly stay—but I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay so badly. I am terrified to sleep, for when I do, you always fade away.”

I sob harder again. My body is exhausted, my pussy a good kind of sore from his attention, yet I want more. I want him inside me again, filling this emptiness.

Lowering my head, I burrow into the fur of his chest, small hands clinging. “I want you again. I need you.”

Lips brush against my temple before he rolls onto his back, encouraging me to climb over him. “Take, my love. Take me however you want and need. I am here for you, always, in whatever way you require.”

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