Page 55 of Her Rabid Beasts

The blue rectangular box hits my eyes like a sledgehammer. I grab it up and open it to count the foil packets. It’s mostly full.

Meaning some of them have been used.

Fire lights up my veins. Heat surges through my stomach.

Asshole. Fucking asshole prick.

There is a box of tissues in there as well as a small blue tube of lip balm. I hold each item up to my nose and sniff them suspiciously, but I only sense Lyle’s scent. There are a couple of books too, all crime non-fiction, including a memoir by a human gangland crime boss. I snort, it was definitely something Lyle would be into.

In the second drawer, on a bed of purple silk, is a heavy navy blue box that looks very special. On the top it’s labelled with gold letters: “Scent Safe Technology TM.” My eyebrows shoot up as I examine the tiny lock that secures it. But when I test the lid, I find it unlocked. Excitement bubbles within me. What is Lyle hiding in here? Scent Safe boxes are super expensive, and needing to use one only means a great precious thing must need hiding. I ease open the lid, holding my breath for the revelation.

What I find in there has me choking on my own saliva.

I recognise my underwear instantly. Six pairs of cheap pink, purple, and yellow bikini briefs I’d packed into my bag when I ran away from home. The same undies Savage stole right from my dorm. It was the sort of thing a territorial, dominant animus couldn’t help but do to a protesting regina. I told Lyle about it, embarrassed that I needed early access to the student village tobuy underwear and then… I’d heard nothing more about it from him.

And yet here they are, each neatly folded and stacked, in a special box in his bedside table. He clearly confiscated them from Savage. But then why not give them back to me as per the rules he so loved?

The possible reason has me flushing. Has my stomach clenching. I close the box, set it down on the bedside table and cross my arms, staring at it.

Everything I know about Lyle will now have to be re-evaluated.

He’s keeping my knickers as if they’re talismans. Coveting them.

My anima roils alongside me, irritated and restless. His scent that coats this place fills my nose, my head, my body.

My intense attraction to him from the first time I met him can now be explained. At the time, I just thought I was attracted to him in the same way thateveryoneis attracted to Lyle Pardalia, the dangerous, dominant beast in a suit.

But now it’s different.

And he’s keeping my underwear like it’s precious.

Something wild takes me over and I yank open the top drawer again, pull out the box of condoms and storm into his bathroom behind me. I toss it into his rubbish bin, glaring suspiciously at his shower as I do. It’s all shiny black tile, and lining the shower recess are bottles of high-end brands of shampoo and conditioner marketed towards male lions. There’s also body wash, soap, and nothing else. Nothing to suggest a woman has been here.

I feel marginally better.

But it’s not enough. With my heart pounding unevenly, I slowly sit on his bed. The exhale I let out is more of a sigh and I try to tell my horny anima to calm down.

But it’s too much to be here in his personal space where there is only his scent and his sheets and his pillows.

The need to feel them against my skin overwhelms me. The need to play a little with him overwhelms me.

Before I know it, I’m lying on his bed with my fingers brushing my pussy over my thong.

His fresh parchment and sunlight scent is even stronger now that my nose is closer to this pillow. I imagine Lyle making his bed every morning with the flair of his signature male arrogance. This morning in his office, those amber eyes had assessingly flicked down my body and I’d enjoyed every second of being observed so closely by him. I suddenly crave more of that. More of his bold looks, however cursory or disapproving, more of that snarky, irritated voice directed atme.

Even when he’s filled with anger, I now know what’s under it all. This whole time he’s been fighting this just as much as I have. He wants to touch me. That’s evident in how much he pointedlyavoidstouching me.

Eventually, he’ll have to give in.

I imagine those huge lion’s hands trailing over my body, that mouth, following with kisses, sucking and licking every part of me like he can’t help it…

It takes all of sixty seconds for me to come—enveloped in Lyle’s heady, delicious scent.

I gasp, my back arching under an orgasm that brings moisture to the corners of my eyes… and all over my thong. Panting in the wake of the fact I just came in Lyle’s bed, rather illegally, I stare at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, wondering at his reaction when he gets into bed tonight.

I extract myself from his bed and, with a smirk, take off my underwear. I leave it on top of the scent safe box and just to annoy him further, artfully arrange it so it looks like I’vecarelessly dumped it there. A quick hunt through his kitchen drawers and I’ve written a note in messy cursive:

Another one for your collection

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