Page 59 of Enticing Monsters

I wish I could’ve been allowed to visit Gage one last time—to tell him I know he’s innocent, that I don’t care what type of fae he is, that I care about him immensely—but Xander told me he’s under close supervision. No one is allowed to visit him.

I hate it, but there’s nothing I can do except declare war on the queen herself, which is very, very tempting currently. I just need to trust my mates to handle things while I’m gone.

A breeze from the window makes me whirl, reaching up to slide a knife from the braid in my hair.

“You’re becoming slow, Ms. Jenkins,” Xander rumbles, a dark eyebrow arching as he leans against the wall, and I roll my eyes.

“Are you channeling V now, Mr. Grayson?” I look him up and down, appreciating the way his charcoal-gray vest highlights his flat, toned stomach and narrow hips. “I think the role of stalker in our little group has already been filled.”

Even if he is currently unconscious.

I push the thought away, forcing a smile onto my lips.

“The few seconds it took me to respond while safe in my own room aren’t the end of the world,” I snark, carefully wiggling the knife back into its sheath so I don’t accidentally cut my hair.

I may still be getting used to the deep-pink strands, but I’m not going to risk damaging them. For all I know, on our trip they’ll change yet again since we still have no idea why it changed from my normal blonde strands in the first place. As long as it doesn’t turn lime green or something along those lines—I don’t have the skin tone for that, and I’m not giving up my pink clothing no matter what color it turns.

Cool, smooth shadows wrap tightly around me, freezing me in place. A band covers my mouth, preventing me from swearing at the jerk behind me. Shadows creep across the walls, the windows, and the door, sealing us inside a dark bubble only lit by my bedside lamp, the crystals dangling from it sending sparkling shapes to dance against the inky darkness.

“I already owe you one spanking, Ms. Jenkins,” Xander purrs into my ear as the band around my mouth releases. “Maybe a bright-pink ass would make sure you’re focusing on your safety—because if you’re injured in Faerie, I can guarantee you that you won’t sit for a week.”

His voice is rich and deep, and I shiver at the husky tone.

I squeeze my thighs together as heat works its way through my veins.

“You wouldn’t,” I hiss over my shoulder, even as my belly tightens with desire. “Everyone would hear you.”

I’ve already experienced one sexual encounter where I was walked in on. The last thing I need is another.

“Ah, but I’m not my cousin,” Xander teases me, wrapping a hand around my throat and tilting my head back onto his shoulder, his fingers dancing over the fragile skin before gripping me in a possessive hold.

Without his shadows holding me upright and still, I melt against him, even as I sneak a look at where my door should be, though it’s hard to see it amongst the cocoon of shadows. One of my other mates catching me with Xander? That’d be hot as hell. My parents…not so much.

“No one will be able to hear us or get into this room until I call back my shadows and allow it, Ms. Jenkins,” Xander tells me, his teeth nipping my ear and making me whimper.

His shadows slip underneath my T-shirt, sliding up my ribs, brushing the sides of my breasts, then moving down my shoulders to my wrists. In a flash, my arms are yanked behind me, my wrists bound firmly at the small of my back. I tug at my arms, rotating my wrists to find the flex the shadows will allow. Their hold on me is gentle, cool, but completely immovable—I can shift slightly, and they aren't hurting me, but they hold me securely in place without any way of escaping.

Xander releases my throat and strokes a hand down my back. “You’ll say red if anything pushes your limits or if you get faint or notice any of your seizure signs.” His voice is sharp, firm, and as he comes around me to grip my chin and stare down into my eyes, there is no doubt that he means every word coming out of his lips. “If you put yourself at risk during our play, then that play will not continue. I’ll push your limits. Test you. Make you scream for me. But I willnotallow you to injure yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The words are soft and throaty as they fall from my lips, and I squirm again in my bonds.

He strokes his thumb across my lower lip, teasing the tender flesh. “You’ll get ten today. Don’t think I’ll be so lenient in the future.”

He grabs my hips, his shadows releasing my legs so that I can walk with him to my bed. He settles himself on the edge and draws me between his thighs so that he can pin my legs. He helps me lean over, keeping me balanced with his shadows since my arms are still tightly bound, and settles me so that my belly is pressed against his hard thigh and my breasts are against the soft fabric of my comforter.

“What is your safe word, Serafina?”

“Red, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Why does him calling me that make me feel like I could come without him even touching me?

His hands are quick and sure as he flips my skirt up around my hips and slides my leggings down, the calluses on his fingers rough against my skin. “Count, Serafina.”

The first blow surprises me, and I let out a huff as the sting sinks into my flesh. He rubs his palm over the prickling skin, turning it into something warmer, a heat I feel echoed between my thighs.

“One, sir.”

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