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He takes a step forward.
“So you can leave,” he says. “Run when the pain of life is too heavy for your heart but know this: I’m not letting you go.”
Another step as he closes the distance between us.
“If you run, I’ll find you. I will be there, ready to carry you when your legs grow tired, because you aremine.”
It takes a moment for me to realize my whole body is trembling. Every cell in my body urges me forward, but my gaze is stuck on his mouth. That soft, sinful mouth, filled with sharp teeth that bite my skin in all the right places.
A smart girl would return his declaration of love. She would apologize for every fraction of a second she caused him pain, and she’d admit just how long she’s felt the same way.
But I’m not a smart girl. So instead, I take a step to the right, toward the sliding door that leads to the patio, a silent challenge in my gaze. “You’ll find me, huh?”
He side-eyes me suspiciously. “Yes.”
“How long would it take for you to find me?”
His voice lowers to a steady growl. “Not long.”
I take another step to the right.
When he sees my gaze dart toward the door, I’m not certain, but it looks like the red part of his eyes starts to blink. Almost like a traffic light. “Don’t, Samantha.”
“Don’t what?” I ask, taking another step.
“Don’t run.”
I know how easy it is to whip that sliding door open and leap out onto the patio in a full sprint. I’ve done it dozens of times whenever the familiar jingle of the ice cream truck filled the air.
Rather than waste another second teasing him, I launch myself across the linoleum and throw the sliding door open.
Almost immediately, I’m panting as I charge across the patio, leaping over my mom’s potted plants and landing barefoot in the soft grass of the backyard. I don’t think it’s due to exertion, though. It’s because of the primal growl I hear right on my heels, and the heat of his body as he races behind me toward the woods.
“Samantha,” he hisses, taunting me.
My pussy clenches at the way he drags out the “ahh” sound at the end. Hot breath fans my neck as I run harder. He’s close. He’s so close, and I want him to catch me. To slam me against a tree, the rough bark scraping against my back as he tears my clothes into rags and fucks me until I scream.
We make it just inside the tree line at the edge of the cemetery before I’m hurled into the air, my feet leaving the ground as Mylo’s strong arms wrap around my middle. He rotates our bodies before we land, and my back slams into his chest as he tightens his grip. As soon as our bodies settle on the ground, we roll away from each other until we’re both crouched in the dirt, facing each other with matching feral expressions.
He groans as he takes me in, my nipples hard and aching under my white sports bra. The redness of his eyes sends a chill down my spine. In the woods with him like this, his hair wild and leaves and soil sticking to his clothes, there’s nothing human about him. He’s all monster. My monster.
In one swift motion, he leaps from a crouched position and lands directly behind me. Before I can react to his impressive agility, he yanks my sweats and booty shorts down my thighs and puts a hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me into the dirt as he lifts my ass in the air.
“Oh, fuck!” I cry out as he parts my cheeks and shoves his tongue between the swollen lips of my pussy.
“Mmm,” he groans. “So wet for me.”
My hands scramble for purchase as he laps at my core, his tongue relentless in its quest to drink me down. I end up clawing through the dirt until his tongue leaves my pussy and his hands leave my sides. My hips move of their own accord, rolling and bucking as I seek out his touch.
“Mylo,” I whimper. But he doesn’t leave me for long. I hear the tearing of fabric behind me, then the fat head of his cock pushing through my soaked folds.
He slams into me. It stings, but the pain is quickly buried beneath layers of rippling pleasure, and I can’t feel anything but his ridges stretching my insides.
I turn as much as I can to face him, and my pussy flutters at the sight of his curved black horns and the radiant shimmer of his scales. He leans forward and wraps his hand around my neck, lightly squeezing as he holds me in place as he fucks me. My body is no longer mine. It’s his to use and fuck and fill with his seed.
“Mylo,” I moan, placing my hand over the one that grips my neck. “I don’t want kids.”
I worry my admission will slow him down, but it doesn’t. And if we’re really doing this, if we’re really solidifying the mate bond and agreeing to spend eternity together, he needs to hear it.
