AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With one hand pressing down on her side wound, the girl stops a few feet from where I’ve perched. Her eyes haven’t left mine.
Stabbing out her chin, the girl summons me, “Look, will you just come down from there?”
I’m not going. My cock is. I’m just following the monstrous member with a mind of its own.
At least she has some decent reflexes when she flinches from my descent. And instincts of self-preservation by how she steps back, those pretty pink ringlets swinging from my wing-induced windstorm. My eyes can’t help but lower to her tits, noticing her erect nipples. But I’m more intrigued by her other hand balling into an audacious but tiny fist. And the rosy blush lacing her hot and bothered cheeks.
“Look, I’m tired,” she begins, her voice laced with agitation, triggering my cock to jump again. “You’ve had your fun chasing me all around these creepy crypts like I’m some prize on the Gothic, supernatural version of “The Bachelorette”. I’m guessing you’re getting bored. And I could use a break. You could have killed me by now. So, if you want to kill me or…I don’t know…eat me”—she shrugs defiantly—“here I am. But if you don’t plan on devouring me, would you mind kindly showing me to the exit? When I get home, I’ll start a support group for people who’ve had accidental encounters with hot mythical monsters and irresistible love perfumes. I promise you’ll be the main highlight. And I’m more than happy to pop on back for a tour anytime.”
Fuckfuckfuck, the cursed length grows, and I don’t give a damn if I haven’t shoved myself into a woman’s sweet vessel for nearly a century. I am agod. The God of Love, for Zeus’s sake! I refuse to let some precocious, mocking little mortal get the best of me.
She’s a flimsy, fragile Butterfly staring down a brutal beast and telling him to fuck off.
Oh, I will eat you, little one. Very soon.But first, I’ll teach this mortal some manners and respect in the presence of a deity.
I swing my tail out as swift as a whip to coil around her body…for two reasons. One, it’s tight enough to stem the blood flow from her wounds. And it restrains her arms.
Her high-pitched shriek turns into a whimper as I yank her against me. But when I beat my wings and take to the air, her savage scream is shrill enough to echo all over Purgatory.
5
“Are you going to eat me?”
ARADIA
Don’t hurl! Don’t hurl! Don’t you dare hurl!
I’m guessing this guy probably doesn’t come with a sick bag.
His arms are so massive, they could wrap around me twice. And he’s so hard and muscled, it’s like an obsidian mountain against my back. The heaving motion of his wings slapping the air does not help my whirling stomach.
Since the second he plucked me from the ground, I slammed my eyes shut. And the moment I try to peek one eye open and see the gray landscape blurring hundreds of feet below me, my stomach lurches.
“Oh, god,” I moan and shut my eyes again, trying to hold back the bile. “I always dreamed of being swept off my feet, but I didn’t think altitude sickness would be involved.” I chatter silly things when I feel sick or scared. It always gets me in trouble.
A deep rumble resonates in my spine. I don’t know what the heck that was—a growl? a purr? a growling purr?—but whateverit was seemed to calm my belly. So, if talking makes him do it more…
“Full disclosure, Mr. Monster. I didn’t sign up for the mile-highhurlclub. So, please excuse me if I end up projectile vomiting.”
The tail and arms holding me shift. I choke on a scream with my heart somersaulting in my chest until my front is pressed to the gargoyle’s chest. The obsidian-like stone is much warmer than I expected. He does that deep purring thing again, and it settles me more.
“Much better, thank you.”
But one sudden wing shift, and my stomach bottoms out again. I clench my eyes, squeeze my belly muscles, close to hurling. Guess I spoke too soon.
“Ugh…I hope you have stone-cleaning equipment.” Yuck, my voice sounds like a high-pitched squeak.
“You retch on me, Butterfly, and I’ll swat your pretty bottom,” he growls, the voice so deep and husky, every monster-themed horror film producer would sell their soul to record.
I jolt out of my reflection and protest, “You can’t just swat my—ow!” He did it. He actually did it! My left cheek smolders from the sting from the ends of his thick, leathery tail. It was over my dress, but I’d stake my life it left a burning stripe on my butt.
“I just did, little mortal.”
Hot flames sear my cheeks from this Fifty Shades of Gargoyle, but his last word causes me some pause. It implies he isnotmortal. I guess that’s hardly a surprise, considering his mythological status. I drag a deep breath of air into my lungs, only to be met with a blast of the most delirious and beautiful scent. It’s not like the pheromones, which affected my blood and chemical makeup. This stirs every particle of my olfactory senses. If addiction had a scent, this would be it, especiallymyaddiction.
It’s like roses bathing in starlight with spicy vanilla notes. I nearly forget about the burning stripe on my ass, which fades to a seductive heat. He better not do that pheromone thing again because I would never get over the mortification of humping him mid-flight. It’s bad enough my mouth is starting to water.
Resisting every urge to bury my nose in his chest and smell more—that would be really weird—I touch my cheek to his warm stone instead and say, “Um…I guess I’m glad there’s no language barrier between us. Otherwise, it would make this conversation very boring.”
