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Am I? Weird.
I take her hand, leading her into the shower. Hot water flows over my body, washing away the traces of the mountain lion's blood. It swirls down the drain, disappearing. I quickly grab the soap and scrub up, ensuring every last stain is gone from my skin before I pull Dahlia back into my arms, her back to my chest.
"Draven." She melts into me, allowing me to hold her close. Water pours over us, shutting out the rest of the world. I cup her breasts, brushing my thumbs over her nipples.
"You can open your eyes now, Beauty."
"Mm," she hums. "I think I'll stay just like this and let you keep doing that."
I chuckle softly and then pinch her nipples.
Her eyes fly open on a gasp. "Wicked."
"You like me wicked." I nip her throat, slipping one hand down her abdomen. She's drenched, her folds slick with her desire for me. "You love me wicked."
"Yes," she moans. "Oh, yes."
I flick her clit, thrusting two fingers inside her cunt. She cries out, rising on her toes as her head falls back against my shoulder. I growl her name, listening to the wet squelch of her body as I fuck her with my fingers.
"Draven, Draven," she chants, already climbing the precipice.
I spin her around, backing her toward the wall of the shower. Before she can even cry out, I'm on my knees, her leg thrown over my shoulder. Ah, God. It's only been a couple of hours, but I missed the sight of this perfection. Is this why God chose to blind me when I drank that infernal Halloween punch? Because he knew I'd find this beauty one day and wanted me to appreciate her the way she deserves? As only a man who has lived his life in darkness can appreciate the light?
"Draven!" she cries, grasping my horns like handlebars as I take my first lick of her. I want to eat her slowly and carefully. But I can't do that. She's too sweet, too savory. And I'm mannerless when it comes to her. I splay her against the wall and devour her, eating her loud and messy, the way a beast eats.
My beauty loves it. She grips my horns, holding on for dear life. Her sweet cries ring out around the bathroom, echoing back like the notes of a carnal song. She comes on my tongue in a flood of sticky juices, shouting my name into the steam swirling around us.
I prowl up her body, kissing her belly, her breasts, and then her lips. "Sweet, sweet Dahlia," I croon, pulling her back into my arms. "My perfect little beauty."
"Draven," she moans. "Get inside me. Now."
Do I look crazy enough to tell her no? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
I boost her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. Her hands tangle in my hair and stroke along my horns. I grit my teeth, bucking my hips against her. Fuck. I never knew how good that could feel until she did it the first time I got my mouth on her.
"This might hurt," I warn her, hating the thought. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt her. She should only ever feel pleasure in my arms. That's what I was made to do…pleasure her. Love her. Protect her. If there's a reason I became what I am, it's her. How can I regret what she loves? How can I want to change what she finds worthy? I'm a fucking monster. And this beauty chose me anyway.
"I'm a big girl," she whispers back. "I can take the pain."
I press my forehead to hers, press my lips to hers. We kiss and touch, getting lost in one another as I notch myself at her entrance. Already, I know I won't last. How can I when she feels this perfect in my arms? I press forward, and her tight heat surrounds the head of my cock.
"Ah, baby, baby," I groan, writhing in sweet torment. "You're killing me." It's a devastatingly perfect death, too. One full of her and the tight grip of her pussy around my cock. Of her nails in my back. Of her soft cries ringing out around me.
If she feels any pain as I thrust forward, burying myself inside her, it's fleeting. She tenses momentarily and then shudders in my arm, burying her face in my throat. My name leaves her lips in a soft sigh I feel in my soul.
"You're mine now," she whispers.
I tip her head back with my hand in her hair, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss. "And you're mine," I growl against her lips. "My beauty."
"I've been yours since the moment you found me in the library, Draven."
"No. You've been mine since the day you came here." I pump my hips, growling when she cries out my name in response. "From the first moment I heard you muttering, you were mine, Dahlia. Now, I'm claiming what belongs to me."
"Then claim it," she cries, her head thrown back in bliss. "Harder, Draven. Please."
I growl again, unable to deny her anything. I surge forward, impaling her on my cock, only to pull back and drive myself into her again. She cries out with every deep thrust, sobbing my name into the room. Her hands scrabble down my shoulders and across my upper back, seeking purchase as I pound into her. She rocks her hips against mine, her sweet sobs of ecstasy driving me on.
My tail curls around her, helping to hold her prisoner against the wall as I make love to her until we're both writhing in bliss, each thrust sending us closer and closer to the edge. I fight to hold on, desperate to send her over first. She has to come before I do. I may be a beast, but I'm a goddamn gentleman.
