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“It’s just a lot.” I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t think that’d be strange to hear me say out of context. Itwasa lot. Last night, I’d had genuine fun with a friend for the first time in a decade and then had been attacked on the way home. This morning, I’d woken up covered in blood. And now, I’d been arrested and was being held until Leif returned or a lawyer appeared.
If my life ever stopped being “a lot,” I’d be equally as surprised as I’d be probably sad for the mundaneness.
“I know,”came Mrak’s response as his tendrils—his touch, his reach—slid along my limbs. It was a comfort to have him close. But as his tendrils drew toward more sensitive areas, and because they always seemed to glide along my skin instead of over my clothes, I couldn’t help the shaky inhale of breath that accompanied a pooling of warmth between my thighs.
“Relax, Aisling. You’ll be home soon. Safe, with me.”
Or he could tell the police to fuck off and break us out of here. But that wouldn’t help us to continue living a relatively low-profile life. I’d spent so many years living trapped in a cage not of my own making that moving toward living life on the run wasn’t in any way appealing.
I nodded my response. I was already well on my way to relaxingtoo muchif Mrak kept holding me this close. Even now, his tendrils explored, caressing over my breasts and across my thighs. An ache bloomed below my belly. When Mrak’s tendrils gently eased my legs open beneath the table, I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping.
“I can alwayshelpyou relax.”
Mrak getting me off in the middle of a police interview room sure as hell wouldn’t appear asrelaxingto anyone watching the security feed. And I was already in here to begin with because of questionable surveillance footage.
Mrak must have sensed my apprehension because once more, I felt a portion of his ethereal tendrils slide across my mouth. Invisible but holding me silent all the same.
“Let them watch,”Mrak said, words that tightened my core.
Tendrils curled around my breasts, circling my nipples and playfully squeezing the pebbled tips. I inhaled sharply, a shaky breath that curled my toes. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to feeling Mrak’s ethereal touch, to him being able to bring me screaming over the brink of pleasure, without an otherwise very visible sign of his presence. Sometimes, at the beginning, I had even thought I had gone crazy.
Now, I just thought it was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever experienced.
“Don’t make a sound.”
It was a hard command to follow as the tendrils between my thighs slid deeper, gliding along my core like fingers teasing the sensitive flesh. I swallowed hard and tried as much as possible to keep a neutral expression on my face. But all of that went away the very second I felt what might as well have been a real physical tongue attached to a real man on my most sensitive spot.
I keened forward, trying to give the impression of simply lying my head in my hands on the table. But my lips parted in silent pleasure the moment my face was hidden from the camera.
My legs shook as Mrak’s tongue worked me and his tendrils toyed with my breasts. All of this was invisible to the camera and anyone watching it, save for the tensing in my body as a mountain of pleasure built between my legs. Thank god the table was solid and not glass, giving me a little privacy as I opened my legs wider and the muscles around my thighs clenched. I hoped anyone watching simply saw a continuation of a panic attack, or thought I was crying or something.
But the fact that someone waswatching, whether they knew or not, sent an excited shiver of pleasure straight to my core. As if sensing this, what could only be Mrak’s tongue shifted downward to meet it, entering me without warning as tendrils came to massage the spot his tongue had left.
That was it. All my body could handle.
My release careened toward me like an unstoppable train. Mrak’s tendrils slipped across my lips again, and when I came, it was so hard, I saw stars from trying to keep from screaming out, from arching my back. From in any way revealing the sinful things Mrak did to my body while no one—not even me—could watch.
And then I saw it. Just for a moment as I opened my eyes and lifted my head, as if some unknown force had begged me to do so as ecstasy coursed through my body.
A shadowy monster in the room with me. Large, clawed, and with six crimson, glowing eyes. Tendrils of shadow that moved from him like extensions of his body, right from his abdomen and beneath the table.
Monstrous. Demon-like. And definitelynothuman. Not like the form I’d seen this morning.
Mrak was a monster. A manipulator of appearance and form. But I wasn’t shocked. Not really.
I’d always known Mrak was a monster. Only monsters made pacts with scared, abused women. Only monsters killed for their woman.
And then the visage was gone.
I took several deep breaths as pleasure wracked through me in waves. “Gods,” I mumbled as I pulled myself together.
“Not quite.”
“No.” I sat upright once more, closing my legs so no one could see the wetness seeping there should they somehow have a chance. “Not at all, it seems.”
“Are you afraid of me, Aisling?”
I wiped my lips to hide myself asking, “Should I be?”
Mrak wasn’t human. Or even humanoid. But this monster was still the same entity I’d known for the past year. The one who’d saved me from Lazarus’s community when I’d been convinced no one else could.
So no, I didn’t fear him no matter what he actually looked like.
Mrak’s form drew close again, which I only sensed because suddenly, his ethereal lips brushed mine in a heated, short stolen kiss. “No. I am yours. And you are mine. And you have no reason to ever fear me.”
“Good.” Because I could never imagine anyone else pleasuring me like this monster could. I couldn’t imagine life without Mrak.
