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“You’re the one who keeps claiming that we have a connection,” I say. “If we’re mates, why haven’t you asked for my name?”
“Because I already know it’s Alexis,” he says.
“You probably read it from snooping about the apartment while I was at work.”
“Alexis, please be patient.” He spreads his arms wide, so they stretch across the room, just as they did last night.
Except back then, I was terrified. Now, I know exactly what I’m dealing with: a creature from another dimension who enjoys feeding on a woman’s pussy, and I’m probably the only one lonely and desperate enough to give it to him.
One of his tentacles snakes toward me. The movement is tentative, as though he isn’t sure if I’ll accept his advances.
I step backward until the backs of my thighs hit the sofa bed’s mattress. Sitting on the edge, I fumble around for my phone. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.”
“Then what?” His tentacle slithers around my wrist and gives it a playful squeeze.
The muscles of my core pulse in anticipation. I already know where this is going and my body won’t be able to resist the promise of a night of unbridled pleasure.
“I don’t want a relationship with a creature who can’t survive outside the shadows.” My fingers close around the handset.
“I can,” says the monster. “But you’ll have to be patient.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you need?”
“Allow me to penetrate your body.”
“Where?” I rasp.
“Every orifice imaginable,” he says in a voice of smoke. “You must fully accept me before I show myself.”
The tentacle winds up my arm. I run a hand over the appendage. It’s cool and damp, much like how I would imagine if I plucked up the courage to touch a squid. As the tentacle slithers around my breast and splits into two tendrils to work at my nipple, my mind flashes with the image of a giant octopus.
That’s also when he secretes a slippery liquid that makes my skin tingle. It’s probably a mind control agent that will make me fall in love with absolutely anything.
Yeah, the prospect of getting addicted to his touch before seeing his face sounds suspicious as hell.
Fuck this. I’m not having crazy sex with an octopus man who refuses to reveal his true form.
“Mmmmm…” His deep voice reverberates across my flesh. “I can already smell your arousal.”
With my free hand, I pick up the phone and point its flashlight in the direction of the monster.
What I see next makes my jaw drop.
A gorgeous blond man with bright blue eyes and a perfect body standing naked at the other end of the room.
And there isn’t a single tentacle in sight.
What is he? A fallen angel? That would explain why he came from a place that looks like hell.
My heart pounds hard enough to make my eardrums vibrate. This is just like the myth of Cupid and Psyche, where the god of erotic love married a human woman but warned her never to look upon his face. After getting consumed with curiosity, she shone a lamp in his face and saw a man of spectacular beauty.
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” the monster says, his handsome features falling.
“Why not?” I rise to my feet and step forward on trembling legs, still shining the flashlight at this vision of perfection.
“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said our personalities change when exposed to bright light.”
My stomach drops. “What?” I stumble backward. “You didn’t say anything about that.”
