Page 32 of Below the Shadow of the City

“Nothing,” I flush and smile meekly. “I’m just taking you in.”

“I think you already took quite a bit of me in,” he chuckles and gestures to his cock that is still firmly placed inside of me. My legs tighten around him and he pulls me in close.

I turn and bury my head into his chest to cover the rosy blush that’s now spread across my entire body, trying to remember the last time someone has ever made me feel giggly and shy like this.

It’s like he was designed in a lab to bring out a side of myself I’ve never seen before. Surely my past relationships haven’t been so horrific that it takes a few weeks of talking and one sexual encounter with a literal monster to melt some of the ice that guarded my heart.

He’s slightly ruffled from our activities, and it’s oddly endearing. I reach to smooth out some of the fur that’s gone askew on his arm, but then hesitate. I don’t know the etiquette, are such things patronizing? His eyes follow mine and he smooths it out himself, then reaches for my hand and places it on his shoulder.

His eyes narrow. “You don’t have to be reluctant to touch me. Not now, not ever,” his tone has changed from bright and flirty to something rumbling and sincere. He lays his hand over mine and guides it across his shoulder, my fingers graze along his clavicle, then across to his neck and down his sternum. His heart thuds under my palm and my breath hitches. He feels incredibly soft. I want to burrow into him forever, then bristle at my own thoughts. One night stand, one night stand, I repeat like a mantra, don’t fall in love.

Touching him before was instinctual. My hands grazed across every inch of his exposed body, I was exploring it with the fervent curiosity of an archaeologist. My body somehow knew how to react to him on top of, beside, and inside of me. This is far more intimate. We’re still safe in the confines of his bedroom, it’s an island we’ve traveled to together. There’s new territory to explore now that the storm has calmed. I place an exploratory hand on his cheek, his mouth twitches into a smile.

“Even the lightest touch of yours is fucking intoxicating,” he speaks low, a shared vow between us. “I swear you might kill me.”

I feel his knot expand again, extending the time the two of us will be joined. This needs to last as long as possible, because once I leave here, I know it’ll kill me to not come back.

His easy boyish charm takes a step back for this stronger, bellowing version of him. His words are self-assured. My touch takes on a steady confidence as a result. I move my face closer to his and track roaming fingers along his head, circling my thumb around the base of his horn.

My fingers move on and linger on the velvety fur of his ears, his eyes roll back slightly as I rub them between my thumb and forefinger. They are impeccably soft and might be my new favorite part of him. I inch along, digging my nails deep into the thick mane tumbling out behind his head.

“You are a marvel,” I whisper.

He’s incredibly gentle with me. I wonder if he’s done this before. It’s far easier to believe that I’m just another human woman he’s brought down into this room for one passionate night. Even though deep down I tense at the thought, and silently pray that this will be the exception.

CHAPTER 14

MONDAY, OCTOBER 1

“Ihate to put a dimmer on this afterglow but you really need to get going,” I awake to Maddox whispering in my ear as I lay in his embrace. I jolt at the feeling of fur grazing my skin, forgetting this wasn’t like any other one night stand.

My eyes flutter open and I need to get my bearings. Soft artificial light comes in through the windows, and I begin to recognize the brick walls, soft sheets, and the body beside mine.

Right, I remind myself, you slept with Maddox. I am utterly grateful my consciousness remembered this fact before I woke up screaming at the beast beside me.

My vision adjusts to the clock on his bedside table, it’s six in the morning, two hours from now I need to be walking towards the subway station to get to work. The idea of returning to my bleak cage of steel and glass for the day feels nearly oppressive after the night I had. How am I supposed to sit in my cubicle plunking away at my computer knowing that lurking stories below is Maddox and this entire underground city he resides in?

Maddox swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Coffee?” he asks from over his shoulder. The beginnings of a hangover headache form in my temples.

I groan and nod. He pads across the room and slips on a pair of gray sweatpants, but not before I steal a look at his perfect round ass. Across species and realities gray sweatpants persist, and for that, I’m grateful.

“You’re welcome to use the shower while it brews,” he offers. I stiffen, reminding myself that of course this has to be merely a one night thing. All we are is a taste of forbidden fruit for one another. I sit up a bit and study his face. Does he do this often? Does he have a revolving door of all the other human women he’s seduced in their respective laundry rooms? Am I just creating a false narrative to make this all easier for myself?

“Seems like you’ve done this quite a few times,” I quip, maybe crueler than intended. He whips around and looks at me quizzically. His head cocks to the side.

“I have had a woman in my bed before, if that’s what you’re implying,” his voice is flat with a small hint of annoyance. I’m more than okay with it. Ending this will hurt much less if we’re both flippant and uncaring the morning after.

“Any repeat customers?” I twitch an eyebrow.

“A few failed relationships here and there, one or two hookups that I’m not particularly proud of.” He uncomfortably twirls the strings of his sweatpants, “and, hopefully, you.” My stomach flips, and not from the wine and carbs from last night.

“Ah, so you can add me to the roster?” I nervously laugh, not a damn chance I’m letting myself get swept up by his easy charm. And soft gaze. And sultry morning voice.

“So I can select you as the number one draft pick.” Fucking hell. He leaves no time for me to talk back and swiftly exits his bedroom. Might as well wash all of these conflicting feelings off.

Twenty minutes later, I wander out of the bathroom drying my hair with a remarkably fluffy towel while another is cozily wrapped around me. My fingers trail in between bricks as I walk through the lavish apartment. Maddox is leaning on the countertop, resting his elbows on the granite as he clutches a coffee mug in one hand and his forehead in the other.

His phone sits on the countertop in front of him playing some video at a low volume. Even after spending the night, seeing him with modern accoutrements like a phone and a t-shirt throws me off. With a physicality like his, he certainly doesn’t look like he should be a part of this modern world.