Page 35 of Bumpy, the Gargoyle Slayer

He throws his head back and slams it against the wall, but doesn’t flinch. A long sigh escapes him before he moves. But instead of scooting down, he grabs me up into his strong arms, just like I weigh nothing, and tramples over the door until we reach my room. This time, he takes the moment to turn the knob, and he shuts it with a resounding click behind us.

“If I’m going to ravish you, Bumps, I’m going to do it properly.”

I pout as he lays me gently on my bed. My dress/nightgown lies in a careless tangle about my upper thighs, and I watch him notice, but I don’t do anything to make this easier for him. “But I want your dick.”

“And my dick you shall have. Everywhere. For hours. But I’ve got other ideas on how this should go. The images have been haunting me since the first day I met you, and since it’s my birthday, we’re going to do this my way.”

He shrugs out of Jean-Luc’s jacket and leaves it lying upon the floor, before kicking off his shoes.

“Well,” I say, entranced by his broad shoulders and the way his expensive shirt contours his ridges, “since it’s your birthday.”

His chuckle has raw edges. It sends another wave of liquid heat through me. Out of me.

I squirm on the bed, aware that I’m ruining a very expensive nightgown. “I really thought this was my dress. It doesn’t have any lace, and the fabric is so thick.”

He gestures with a tiny side nod of his head, and when I can tear my gaze from him, I do indeed note the black gown hanging from the closet door.

When I look back at him, he’s unhooking his shirt studs. His narrow tie hangs down his front like dripping dissipation. He’s so beautiful, it’s hard to stay where I am rather than tackling him. But I do. Because I’m also enjoying the striptease.

When he notices me enjoying it, he slows his pace. It’s my turn to groan as he smiles that lecherous smile that has me wetting myself, though hopefully in a sexy way. That glimmer of knowing enters his eyes.

Once his shirt is cast off, he flicks his wings. They fan out in an expanse of fibrous muscles, like a bat’s. One of them knocks the dress hanger off the top of the closet door.

He’s so… chiseled. Lush. Hard and perfect. When he comes to my bed at night, he wears pajamas, I guess so he won’t fuck me. But right now, there’s nothing covering him but an enormous whiff of sin and seduction.

I guess he really is ready.

His hands flick to his belt. The buckle slides. His pants unzip, and then they’re on the floor, leaving me to view the magnificent monster since he doesn’t wear underwear.

His dick. His dick is perfection. I knew that from the first time he stripped naked for me, but somehow, I forgot just how magnificent it is. It stands straight up, a good nine inches of luscious carved stone. Ridges and veins carve out against the darker gray skin, courtesy of the blood coalescing there.

Seeing him the first night was nothing to seeing him now, knowing that I’m going to have him. Finally. Thought, it’s a good thing he’s stopped me from giving him a blowjob. I’m not sure my jaws can open that wide.

He turns in a slow circle just as he did four weeks earlier, arms spread to give me time to see all of him, to accept him, and when he’s done, he smiles again.

This time, shivers run up my spine, but they’re not all from desire. Like this, naked, gray except for his flesh-painted face and hands, he looks like a thing apart, a thing that can break me as easily as I could snap a matchstick. I’m taken right back to the first night with him, when I was still wary.

“I’d say last chance, Bumps, but I think we’re too far gone for that,” he says gravely. “Aren’t we?”

I hear what he’s saying despite the denial: if I tell him to leave, he will, but I have to do it now. In five minutes, he won’t be able to turn away.

Because that’s who he is. He’s a gargoyle, but a gentleman. He always comes with a warning.

Which is so hot that I simply lie back and spread my arms along the velvety coverlet. Fear be damned. I love this monster. “I’m yours to ravish, gargoyle. Do your worst.” And then, with a twinkle of my own, I add, “Please.”

And that’s all I need to say.

CHAPTER 10

Alain

She’s laid out like a sacrifice, and I’ve never been so consumed by lust in my entire life. Greedy need is like a force inside me, blowing me up from the inside. I’m a balloon. I’m going to pop from the heat and pressure.

I’ve spent so much time jerking off in the shower these past weeks that I thought I could handle this moment, if this moment ever came. Instead, my cock hurts. The pain of not coming as I look at her in the red silk nightgown that almost, but not quite, reveals her delicious pussy, nearly doubles me over. Already, pre-cum makes the head shiny.

I cup my hand around the base of my cock and squeeze. Hard. But the relief is slight, and not nearly enough.

Don’t you dare come like an untried lad, Alain. Don’t you dare.