Page 1 of His to Ruin

KALLUM

My Little Nightmare.

I loom above him, a dark presence of shadows and sin watching as he sleeps. He whimpers from something in his dream, the sound shooting straight to my cock. Such a good little pet.

Shadows seep from my fingers, caressing his pale skin. I need to see more. Ever so gently and slowly, my shadows slip the thin blanket down, exposing more and more of my human to me. In the moonlight he appears almost translucent against my shadows, like an apparition. It’s fitting because what we have isn’t real. He doesn’t even know I exist. I’m simply the darkness that haunts him. But just because this isn’t real, doesn’t mean it’s not powerful.

Every inch of skin my shadows skim against breaks out into goosebumps. Even in his unconscious state, his body is so receptive to me.Delicious.

The scent of arousal thickens the air. He’s hard. So fucking hard. The outline of his cock is taut and straining beneath the thin fabric of his sleep pants. My shadows coil around him,teasing, testing. His body shudders in response, his hips jerking upward, seeking, begging.

My pet.

My prey.

My. Fucking. Human.

I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. I’m meant to slip into his mind, taste his fears, and drink deep from his nightmares … not his cum.

But when my shadow glides along the length of his cock and it twitches so perfectly at my touch?

Fuck it.

With a rough jerk, I will my shadows to pull his sleep pants down. I can’t stop the feral growl that leaves my lips as I glance down at my feast. His cock is long and beautiful, the flushed tip glistening with precum. The pale skin is smooth, untouched. Pristine. Mine. The tip leaks with arousal.

What a naughty Little Nightmare you are. Already dripping for your monster.

I unfurl my long tongue and use the two-pronged tip to flick his slit. His taste immediately confirms what I already knew—this human is mine.

I let my tongue slowly lick up and down his shaft. I make sure to feel every curve and soft piece of skin. My shadows hold him down, pinning him in place while I feast on his flesh. He whimpers when my tongue circles his head. His cock throbs as his head thrashes back and forth against his pillow, but he doesn’t wake. His hips jerk up off the bed, eagerly seeking more. Such a needy pet.

My shadows creep down his sleeping form. One wraps around his hard, throbbing cock. I begin to pump. His length hardens more as I stroke and lick him. He’s close, I can feel it. When another of my shadows caresses his tight back hole, it sends him over the edge. He comes with a silent scream as hisbody arches off the bed. His sweet, silky cum covers us both and I gladly lick up every last drop.

Once I’m sure I’ve cleaned up everything he has to give me, I release him. His sated form slumps back into the bed. His breathing returns to a slow and steady pace as he settles back into a peaceful sleep. He will wake tomorrow none the wiser of what we have and what we’ve done. It’s the beauty and curse of being the monster under the bed—I only exist in the darkness of the night.

Before scurrying back under the mattress and into the pits of Hell, I give my human a final glance.

“See you tomorrow night, my Little Nightmare.”

1

CHRISTIAN

“Look, just because you don’t believe in demons, doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” Kaleb snarks as he carries the box of books across the stockroom.

It’s late, far later than I normally work, but I could really use some extra cash this month so I volunteered to stay late for the monthly stockroom clean out. I don’t really mind staying late, it’s not like I have anyone at home waiting for me besides the monsters lurking under my bed and in the back of my closet. Kaleb is good company as well. He’s the type of outgoing, charming, and charismatic guy that I wish I could be more like. With his shoulder-length chestnut locks and glowing smile, he’s the type of guy that other people notice. I am the complete opposite—my pale-blonde hair and petite frame usually allow me to hide in the unseen background of any situation. It’s part of the reason I love working at the bookstore, I can blend back into the recesses of the rows of books and escape to far-off places through the pages.

“Don’t tell me you really believe in all that paranormal stuff?” I ask him as I take a box full of extra copies of the latestfantasy flop—that the owner ordered way too much of—into the very back, bottom corner where they can gather dust in peace.

“I can’t believe you don’t!” He scoffs as he continues to sort and move boxes. “Haven’t you ever seen a ghost before? Something strange or off that you can’t quite explain reasonably?”

Only the ghosts that haunt my nightmares.

“Nope. I guess I’m just not worth haunting,” I reply with a huffed out laugh as I continue to organize.

The basement where the bookstore keeps all the extra stock is damp and dark. I absolutely hate it down here. I may not believe in demons, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still get freaked out by a creepy ass basement.

A man in his twenties, scared of a dark basement. Get it together, Christian.