Page 105 of My Kind of Monster

“Suki…” I can taste my name on his lips. He rips me away from the door, my nails sinking into his flesh, and I’m too dizzy with lust to understand what is happening as he throws me on the bed. In a split second, he’s above me, one hand gripping the headboard above, veins pulsing against the strong, rippling muscles. He strangles his cock with his free hand, rubbing up and down as he moves between my open legs.

His ocean eyes drown me just as his cock rips through my pussy with a harsh buck of his hips, and every nerve ending inside of me sings in ecstasy. His body hovers above mine, dominating every inch of my soul, and his ravenous gaze is eating me alive. I slam my palms against the headboard and push against it, steadying myself as he slams violently inside of me, the harsh slapping of skins making me go wild with lust as his left hand digs into my hip.

I never used to keep my eyes open during sex, it was an involuntary reaction, yet Niklas silently demands it, and I could not take my eyes off his even if I wanted to. It is a delicious intrusion into my mind and soul, almost like with every different, harsh buck of his hips he learns something new about me, and I feel vulnerable. Keeping my eyes on him as he repeatedly slams into my raw pussy is the most intense feeling I have ever felt.

A fire grows inside of me and I need more. I plant my feet on the bed, knees bent, and when I lift my hips, pushing onto him, his cock touches a part of me no other man has touched before, and he looks just as surprised as I am. The orgasm hits us like a goddamn tsunami, ravaging through our bodies as we shake and moan curse words entangled with our names.

His knees slide under my thighs, my ass in his lap, his cock still inside of me as he crashes on top of me, both of us breathing like we ran a marathon in ten minutes.

“Niklas...” I whisper as my eyes close and breathe in his delicious scent.

This was not quite what I expected when I walked into the bedroom.

NIKLAS

All day I've been mulling over one thing in particular, one thing I have to tell her. But when she walked into the bedroom, all bets were off. Her gaze like fire seared my skin, and when I turned around and saw the look in her eyes, the way she was eating me up, inch by fucking inch, it made my dick hard instantly.

I was never a narcissistic guy, but her greedy eyes made me feel thankful for keeping up with my body. At that particular moment in time, I wasn't very thankful that she finally has clothes of her own, yet somehow, even under the gray sweatshirt and tight leggings she still looked like fucking sin.

We're now lying in bed, both on our backs, her head resting on my arm and I can't help but think that this was different. Not just how responsive her body was, but her reaction to me… like she was finally seizing the moment. I shake the thoughts away as I look at her profile brightened by the moonlight, softening her skin even more, and I trace every curve with my eyes, imprinting each and every one into my mind. There's nothing typical about her. She's perfect... absolutely fucking perfect.

“Tell me about your dreams.” I'm not quite sure where that question came from, but I have been curious since she first mentioned she's had pretty much the same dream her whole life. She stiffens, her gaze twitching in confusion. “Before Adrien. You told me of them, but… I’m curious, what exactly happened in the dreams?” Her muscles soften, and I can't help but be suspicious of her reaction. There's something going on with her. It makes me uneasy, a strange feeling swirls in the pit of my stomach. Even the demons stir...

She turns her head to me, her gaze catches mine for a couple of seconds, before she turns again, but it's enough. There's definitely something going on with her, there's chaos in her eyes, painful chaos and I feel it my heart. A deep sense of foreboding takes over, and for the first time I feel something, something utterly unfamiliar.

Need.

I need her... need her to ground me. I need her to calm me. I need her to assure me that... I'm just imagining it all, the pain in her eyes... the sense that I'm losing her.

“It's the first dream I ever remember having.” She speaks as she looks up at nothing in particular, and I'm forcing myself to listen.

I swallow the lump in my throat and take a slow, deep breath as she continues.

“Since I was a child. So... so young. Maybe four years old. It's the first conscious memory I have. I was alone, standing at the shore of a lake surrounded by a dense forest, and I was looking at the water. So calm, so peaceful, the blue sky reflecting on the soft ripples, and when I felt it, fear like no other invaded my body to the point that I felt pain from my tense muscles.” She takes a deep, strained breath.

“Felt... It? Like a monster?” I coax her on, remembering what she told me the other day about her dreams.

She exhales slowly, her bright green eyes looking unnatural, penetrating through me until they hit the bottom of my soul.

“It... it was not a monster yet, it was... something.” She holds my gaze, and I suddenly feel cold inside. “Foreboding. Pain. Evil. I felt it in my bones. My skin prickled, my muscles hurt, my lungs weren't taking enough air. Yet I forced a breath in, turned and ran. I ran into the forest as fast as I could, as fast as my little legs managed, and with every step, the fear filled more and more of my body until I felt like I was running in slow motion. I cried and I yelled and I could feel it behind me, but the closer it got, the slower I was, until I felt like I was running through gelatin, and I knew it... I could not escape it. And then it touched me—not a hand, not a physical thing, yet when it touched me it felt like ice was burning me and it flooded my mind. Pain, so much pain and darkness, crimson rivers and death, and so much more I could not explain at that age. My father woke me up, and my throat was raw from screaming, my muscles hurt, even my feet...”

Empathy is not my strongest trait, it barely exists within me, yet it must be traumatizing and confusing, dreaming of such things as a child. And the pain... the death? I wonder if this was the way her young mind was unconsciously dealing with the demons.

“I did not dream every night, yet when I did, this was the only dream I had. I do not quite remember when it changed, but it did, and even though it was the same dream, it looked different every time. A forest, a deserted street, a marsh, a suburbia, a desert... winter, summer, fall... always different, yet the same plot every time.” She closes her eyes and sighs.

“The dreams evolved as I grew up and by the time I was in my teenage years, they were something else... a need, a desire, a longing. And one day I feltitbehind me and… I smiled. I waited until the last moment to start running, waited until I could breathe in its scent. Until I could feel its body heat against mine, its breath close enough to hit my skin. Then I ran. The more I ran, the more I wanted to get caught and one night, out of the blue, when it caught me, the touch was not ice anymore, it was fire. And I burned… an implosion seeped out and when I woke up, I cried. I cried because it was just a dream…” She opens her eyes and I still, because I know this was after we met. I know it in my bones, because it all changed for me that night as well.

“When did the dreams stop being nightmares?” I ask, remembering what she said before.

“I do not know.” Her answer is short, and I can see the pulse in her throat speeding up. She's lying.

“What are you afraid of?” Her head whips at me in a split second, and the look in her eyes is murderous.What the fuck?I frown and push. “When did the dreams stop being nightmares?”

“I do not remember,” she warns, yet her eyes betray her. She shifts uncomfortably and starts turning away from me, but I stop her with a hand on her chest. A breath hitches in her lungs, and the heartbeats beneath my palm vibrate through me.

“Just because you don't speak it, Suki, it doesn't mean it's not real. Just because you hide it, it doesn't mean it's not there.” She's like a walking, talking, ticking time bomb.

She only speaks until she's at the edge of acknowledging the darkness, and I know it's the same darkness she's pushing back now, but it doesn't work like that. The chaos doesn't dissipate just because you don't acknowledge it. It builds and builds until it wreaks havoc and it's better to harness it, release it slowly, sate the fucking hunger, because if it implodes, it will take you with it.

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