Page 38 of Terror

Bending, he hooks a hand under my knee, lifts my leg, presses his body against mine. Nose in my hair, he whispers, “It’s too late to run. You never stood a chance.”

The scent of him is pure sex and lust, and my brain conjures filthy images of Arkin pounding into me, me sitting on his face gushing fluid all over it, me on the floor, wriggling while he fucks my ass. Me against this wall while he pounds into me with the determination of a thousand fiery suns.

His rattle turns into something a rattlesnake would produce when it’s warning off its enemy. He licks behind my ear, bends, and picks up my other leg. I have no choice but to wrap my legs around him. He reaches between us and pushes down his pants. His hard cock hits my asscheek, and he slides me over his length.

My walls pulse, and liquid spills out, coating his dick. My vision grows sharper, and I grab his hair, tugging. “How can you send me into heat again? How are you doing this?”

He lifts his head from the crook of my neck. “I’m going to bond you, and I am going to breed you. Show me to your nest.”

What kind of babies are made in a bed of lies? Unhappy ones, the ones who don’t know if either parent will return home after they leave the house in a fit of anger. That last time, Daddy left the house in a fit, he took Mom with him.

I press my lips against Arkin’s, and he opens his mouth. One hand sneaks into my hair, fists it, tugs so he can have better access to my mouth. He’s all blood and violence, his scent one I can’t resist. I reach between us and grab his cock.

Terror breaks the kiss. “The nest.”

I slip him inside me.

Oh dear God. He releases my hair, and my head falls back and hits the wall, my nails digging into his bloody armor. Lord knows how many of his males and humans he’s killed today. The horrid thought slips away as fast as it came because Terror grabs my ass cheeks and spreads them so he can ease the entry. “As you wish.” He moves me up and down his dick. I stare at the celling as he lifts me off him, sometimes so he can suckle my nipples, make me crazy with need to have his cock back, sometimes just to make me beg for it.

He rolls his cock over my entrance. “You want it filling you. I know you do.”

I moan and inhale violence and sex and that very special scent unique to Arkin. Whining, I stare up at him and find him staring down at me. His eyes, the black pits of hell, give nothing away. I stick a hand between us to reach for his dick, but he brings our bodies together so my hand is stuck between us. “Your pussy drips. I think it wants something.”

I fist his shirt. If I take him to my nest, he’s gonna own me, bond me, as Dreikx said, but I haven’t told him the truth, and I hate lying. I’ve been lied to all my life.

“Mommy, why does daddy hit you?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, baby, don’t talk about it.”

“Mommy, is Daddy coming home tonight?”

“Yes, baby, he’s just a little late, that’s all.”

“Travis, those pills make my hands shake.”

“Take another one, and it’ll stop.”

Arkin stills and steps back. “Kitten, don’t cry,” he orders.

I wipe my face and stare at the ceiling. “In the hospitals,” I say.

Arkin fixes my dress, then tilts his head. “You were on your way to the hospital? What for?”

“Because I’m scared.”

“Of who?”

I lock my eyes with his.

He puts me down gently, but pushes away from the wall as if I’ve burned him, then runs a hand over his bald head. “I would never hurt you.”

I snort. “Oh yes, you would. You’ll strap me to a pole with the rest of them.”

“Why would I do that?” He’s back caging me in, arms on the wall so I can’t escape. “Look at me,” he orders.

I do. “Hospitals.”

“What?”

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