Page 16 of Monster Mistake

“No. We’re not talking now. We can talk after.”

He ran a hand over his jaw, eyeing her up and down, like a hunter siting down prey. “After what?”

“After you fuck me until I can’t walk.”

She figured he might kiss her again at that moment.

She figured wrong.

As it turned out, orcs were really fast. She’d never had much of an opportunity to see just how fast Khill was. But in the time it took the wordfuckto fall off her tongue, he’d gotten out of the car, moved around to the passenger side, ripped her door open, yanked her out of the car, and tossed her over his shoulder.

Her heart pounded as he sprinted from the car into his cottage.

Normally, whenever she stopped by Khill’s place, she took the time to admire it. To Justine, it had always reminded her of a Hobbit hole—if Hobbits were 7’ tall and appreciated vaulted ceilings, of course. But with its English-ivy-covered stone walls, round windows, and solid oak beams, floors, and finishings, the cottage was a nature lover’s fantasy.

She’d appreciate all that later, though. At this moment, she was really only interested in Khill’s California King mattress.

Too bad they didn’t make it there.

Khill set her on her feet in the living room and crowded her up against the wall. There—right there in this cottage that looked like a Tolkien novel come to life—they made out like horny teenagers, feeding each other hot, open-mouthed kisses, groping and grappling until they were both panting, bodiesbeggingfor release.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. “Yes?”

Her husband was a man of few words. The one he’d just uttered sounded like it’d torn its way out of his throat like broken glass. A lesser man (or monster) might’ve just taken what he wanted right there against the wall. But not Khill. Nope. Herhusbandwas still a consent king. “Yes,” she whispered, grabbing hold of his bottom lip between her teeth and giving it a good, sharp tug. “A thousand times, yes.”

Then his mouth was on hers once again in what could only be called a claiming. It was rough, demanding, wild, and so,sowelcome.

To put the punctuation on her consent, Justine reached between them and rubbed her palm over his cock. He spit out a tangle of urgent-sounding words in a language that wasnotEnglish (Orcish, maybe?), then slid his hands down to cup her ass and pull her hard against him. She shifted and opened her mouth against his throat, flicking her tongue against his skin.

Good lord, he tastedincredible.

Justine was so turned on she could barely breathe. Or maybe anticipation had replaced all the air in the room. Whatever the case may be, if foreplay with Khill was this intense, how was she supposed to survive when she finally got this man inside her?

He must’ve seen the questions in her eyes because he flashed her a wolfish grin that all but screamedyoucantake it and youwilltake it, all of it, for as long as I say you will. Then he spun her around, pressing her chest against the cool wall.

She managed to get her palms up on the wall for support, but he didn’t let her move more than that as he ruthlessly stripped her out of her clothes.Allher clothes. They were all now in a puddle at her feet.

Now, Justine wasn’t normally self-conscious. Her body wasn’t perfect, but it was strong and healthy, and she was proud of it. But she could feel the weight of Khill’s stare trailing over her curves, and while it was definitely sexy, it also made her feel a little, well,shy.

But that thought and every other thought she’d had for months fled when Khill pressed up against her back, sliding his hot hands down her thighs, then nudging them apart.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered in her ear before capturing her earlobe between his teeth, giving it a quick nip. “I’ve never seen anything so perfect in my life.”

She sucked in a sharp gasp when he pressed the heel of his hand against her swollen clit. “Hmmm. You feel perfect, too,” he murmured. “Hot and wet.Mine.”

Yep. She couldn’t agree more. She washis. Voicing that was beyond her at the moment, though. So, all she could do was press back against him as he slowly—way,waytoo slowly—slid afinger into her, pinning her against him. Justine pressed against the wall to remain upright when her knees threatened to buckle.

Eventually, as he continued torturing her at a glacial pace, she managed to choke out, “Please. Now. Hurry.”

“No,” he said in a growly rumble. “We’re going to consummate thefuckout of our marriage tonight, and we arenotgoing to hurry.”

She groaned. He was trying to kill her. There was no other explanation for it. Then he slid a second thick finger into her and she bit down on her lower lip to stop the needy, embarrassing wail that was justdyingto spill off her tongue.

The low chuckle he let out told her he was enjoying her sensual misery a littletoomuch. Bastard.

As his fingers kept tormenting her, Justine reached back threaded her fingers into all that thick, glorious hair of his, and turned her face up to his to for another deep, drugging kiss. His tongue stroked against hers as he shifted his free hand from her hip to her breast. She gasped into his mouth as he brushed his thumb over her nipple. “More,” she whispered into his mouth, hoping he’d at least grantthatrequest.

That’s when he pulled his fingers away.

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