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“Just touch me,” I growl.
“Not yet.”
His voice sounds on the outer shell of my ear, and the skin there tingles with his warm breath, sending ripples of sensation down my neck, across my scalp, and around to my other ear. Even his acoustics give me a surround sound of pleasure.
He’s so close to me now that my breath catches. Moments ago, he was on the other side of the mattress. How did he do that?
I throw my head back, squeeze my eyes closed and focus on the sensations. By now, the monster has worked out that I prefer the flicking motion on my nipples instead of the tiny tendrils. But he splits the tip of his tentacle into two pliable digits that roll my sensitive flesh between his fingers.
Sweat beads across my skin. Not just from the heat, but from the intensity of the arousal.
“I never knew my nipples were so sensitive,” I say with a moan.
“More proof that we’re mates,” he replies, sounding proud.
“What do you mean?”
“Our kind secretes a pheromone in the presence of our one true compatible female,” he says as he squeezes both nipples.
The most pleasurable sensation explodes across both breasts and races down to my hungry core.
“Please,” I cry.
“Please, what?” He hovers so close that his cool temperature radiates across one side of my body, but he doesn’t touch me with anything except for the tentacles. “Tell me with your words.”
I pant hard as those thick appendages tease my inner thigh, getting near to my pussy but missing it by millimeters.
“Why aren’t you touching me?” I say with a loud gasp.
“Permission seems important to you,” he replies, matter-of-factly. “And I won’t move onto phase three until you give me your enthusiastic consent.”
I’m about to scream at the monster to just stick it in me when his words register. If phase one is invading my room and making contact, and two involves climbing into bed with me and teasing my nipples, what on earth is next?
“What are these phases?” I ask.
“Nothing you won’t enjoy,” he rumbles. “Now, may I have your permission to move on to the next?”
“Only if it involves touching my pussy with your tentacles,” I reply.
Without another word, the monster slides the tip of his appendage over the outer edges of my pussy lips, sending tingles up my spine. My back arches as he rubs up and down, each stroke moving tortuously slowly toward my core.
I’ve never had a man—monster or otherwise—touch me with such patience, such unending control. Most would rush straight to my opening, but not him.
“You are needy,” he says, his voice lilting with amusement.
“I’m just not used to the slow pace,” I say through clenched teeth. “And why is the other tentacle still stroking my thigh?”
“Because I’m waiting for permission.”
“For what?”
“To stick it in your anus.”
ChapterFour
I gape up into the shadows, my asshole clenching with shock. As the moon is hidden behind the shadows again, I can’t see the outline of the monster, but I sure as hell can feel him. Especially when he inches toward me on the bed, making the mattress dip further.
On instinct, my hand clenches the bedposts, which is the only thing I can grab onto, since he’s bound my wrists and ankles with those strong tentacles.
