Page 25 of Ravaging Red
Why did she deny what every inch of her body already accepted? Why did she fight what the blood had already decided?
Why the fuck did I let her go?
I knew why. I’d told myself the lie repeatedly. I wanted her to come back on her own. I wanted her tochooseme. Not just because the Hollow bound us, not just because my cock hardened the moment her scent crossed the wind. I wanted hercravingme. Desperate. Addicted. But she was stronger than I thought.
In my anger I wanted her to scream for it, to scream for me!
But that was human thinking. Human empathy and rage mixed into one. And there was no such thing in the Hollow Realm.
Not during the Blood Moon and never when the Veil burns and the blood answers.
The Blood Moon was high now, swollen and merciless, casting its curse across every inch of the Hollow Realm. It burned through my blood like venom, and whispered truths no creature could ignore. It was the old magic, raw and unrelenting. It forgave nothing. It demanded everything. It turned the hunger inside us from longing to torment. It pulled at every tether, every bond, and amplified it until it was turned intoneed. Pure, blinding, agonizing need.
Under the Blood Moon, mates had died from lust alone. Their bodies are consumed by starvation, not for food or water, but for touch. For connection. For a claiming that would never come.
I couldn’t let that happen. Not to her orme.
The mark wanted to form. I felt it deep in my bones, in the throb of my knot, in the way my soul itched to bite and brand her. It wasn’t love. Love was just a myth. A fragile human construct. But amark…a true monster’s mark…. that was real. It was binding. Eternal. Flesh to flesh, soul to soul, a scar of possession so deep it stitched two beings together even across realms.
When a monster craves a mark, when his body decides, it happens. Whether his mate wants it or not. Whether he wants it or not.
And now? Now I was done waiting.
I waited for nightfall, and then I crossed through the Veil. A monster in the human realm, I stayed in the shadows. I remained silent and coiled as I made my way down the path to the entrance of the Hollow Woods. My body throbbed, scentglands flared, claws twitching with the need toholdandgripandspread. I moved through the familiar darkness, tracking the memory of her scent until it painted the air around me in ripe, wet heat. Her trail glowed like a beacon, straight to that little house on the edge of town, the one I’d circled too many times to admit, watching her from the tree line. A beast learning patience he didn’t possess.
I found the sliding back door unlocked. She must have forgotten to lock it, or maybe she still didn’t fear me enough. She still didn’t know what I was capable of for her. Or maybe she still didn’t think monsters weren’t real. I’d have to teach her otherwise.
The house was dark and quiet, the muffled groans of the wood stretching beneath my weight. I stalked through it as quietly as I could, inhaling her scent with every step, that rich, addictive perfume of cunt, and sweat, and forbidden heat soaking the walls, the air, her bedroom.
I found her there. Dead to the world. She was splayed across the mattress not knowing what had come for her. She was more than temptation. She was an indulgence made flesh. All that soft, generous body lay out like a feast, glistening in the moonlight that spilled through her window. Her skin shimmered like cream kissed by moonlight, and that thin little slip she wore, nearly translucent, was a cruel fucking tease. One that didn’thidea body like hers, it enhanced it.
A strap had slipped off her shoulder, exposing the gentle curve of her arm, the slope of her collarbone, the soft swell of the plush flesh that peeked just over the edge of that useless fabric. My eyes followed the line of her neck, the rhythm of her pulse was steady, unaware I was there, and then my eyes landed on the swell of her tits.
Fuck.
They were glorious. Heavy and full, pressing against the thin fabric in perfect roundness. Her nipples visibly strained beneath it, dark and stiff and aching for a mouth. I wanted to drag my tongue across one, slow and deliberate, letting her feel the wet heat of me curling around her nipple until she arched into my snout and begged me to slurp. I wanted to nip at the underside, leave a scar where no one else would ever see, a brand that whisperedmineevery time she looked in the mirror.
Her tits weren’t the only thing demanding worship. The hem of her slip had bunched around her thick thighs. Gods, those thighs. Soft and parted, one leg bent and exposed, that bare skin catching the moonlight exposing her. I drank her in with slow, reverent hunger, letting my gaze roam over the width of her hips, the curve of her belly, the place where her flesh folded sweetly between her thighs and her waist.
Every inch of her was a contradiction, soft and sinful, innocent and obscene.
Her hair fanned out beneath her like a pool of living flame, rich red curls spilling across the white pillow, unruly and wild even in sleep. It framed her face like a halo of red silk, tangling against her cheek and brushing her collarbone. She smelled of her own unique sweetness of crushed berries, salt, andsex.
I stayed there at the edge of her bed, just watching, not touching.
Not yet.
Because human women like her deserved to be looked at and admired. And I was going to take my fucking time with her.
My cock ached. The tip pulsed, already slick with precum, the knot swelling slowly, heavy with desire.
I stepped further into the room. I didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. I didn’t want to frighten her.. Not when I had the chance totaste. So, I dropped low, onto all fours, my monster craving what was his, silent and crawling, muscles rippling beneath myfur. I approached the edge of the bed like a predator nearing prey too precious to devour too soon. And besides, I liked to play with my meal before I ate it.
I came to rest between her legs. Her panties, thin, soft and damp, were already pushed slightly to the side, likely from her own tossing and turning. Her thighs were sticky with the evidence offrustrated pleasure. I growled low, a rumble that vibrated the floorboards. Pressing my snout forward. I moved the cloth aside with a nudge of my nose and there she was.
Dripping wet.
Mine.
