Page 59 of Monster's Pretty Bride

I kiss him back with everything I have.

A clash of need. A violent surrender.

My fingers grabs onto his almost stone back, sharp tugs that pull a growl from his throat. His hands, massive and rough, roam over my soaked dress, tearing fabric, seeking skin. My back presses against the slick rocks, the heat of his body pinning me there, the cool stone a sharp contrast to the fire he ignites inside me.

A gasp catches in my throat as his mouth trails down my jaw, my throat. His fangs scrape lightly, a warning. My pulse stutters beneath them. He lingers. A moment too long. A hesitation.

“Do it,” I whisper.

His body shudders, a beast warring with itself.

“Eryss—”

I dig my nails into his shoulders, eyes burning into his. “You want me? Then take me.”

Something snaps.

The air between us is electric, charged with a raw, primal energy that threatens to consume us both.

His molten gold eyes darken, the storm within them swirling with a hunger that matches my own. His breath hitches, and for a moment, I think he might pull away, might retreat into the shadows of his restraint.

But then his lips crash into mine again, harder, fiercer, as if he’s trying to erase every doubt, every boundary that stands between us.

His hands, rough and calloused, slide down my sides, gripping my hips with a possessiveness that sends a shiver down my spine. The thin fabric of my dress clings to my skin, soaked and nearly transparent, offering no barrier between us.

He tears at it with a growl, the sound vibrating through my chest, and I feel the cool night air kiss my exposed flesh. His mouth follows, hot and demanding, leaving a trail of lava in its wake.

“Oh, Naranus,” I moan as I cling to him, his skin warm.

I arch into him, my body betraying every rational thought, every ounce of resistance I should have. My hands roam over the hard planes of his back, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles, the power that lies just beneath his skin.

He’s a force of nature, untamed and wild, and I’m caught in his storm, unable, no, unwilling to escape.

His lips find the curve of my neck, and I gasp as his teeth graze my skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

His tongue soothes the sting, and I can feel the rumble of his growl against my throat. “You’re playing with fire, Eryss,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.

“Then burn me,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need.

His hands slide lower, gripping the back of my thighs, and he lifts me effortlessly, pressing me against the rough surface of the rocks. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing against me through the fabric that’s covering his privates.

The sensation is maddening, and I grind against him, desperate for more.

“Eryss,” he moans as if on reproach but his hold on my tightens, almost bruising in its intensity.

He groans, a deep, guttural sound that sends a thrill through me. “I might not die under you dagger, little bride but in between your legs,” he growls, his hands tightening on my hips.

“Then let me be your ruin,” I whisper, my voice a challenge, a plea.

His eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, the world stands still. The river rages beside us, the storm rages above us, but all I can see is him. All I can feel is him. And then, with a growl that shakes me to my core, he claims me.

“Damn it all,” he curses before claiming me and I shudder.

His cock slides into me with a force that steals my breath, filling me completely, stretching me in ways I didn’t know I could be stretched.

I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to move, each thrust driving me closer to the edge. He’s relentless, his pace punishing, and I meet him thrust for thrust, my body writhing against his.

“Naranus!” I scream, my voice hoarse as I shake in need and ecstasy.

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