Page 35 of Kael (Monsters & Mates #2)

His only answer is a wrecked groan that vibrates through his chest.

“Because I swear to God, I can feel you in my lungs.”

He laughs—breathy, stunned—and then growls, “Then don’t stop riding me until I’m all the way in your head .”

My laugh turns into a moan, and I start to move, every inch of him lighting up nerves I didn’t even know I had.

Fucking my own monster? Turns out, it’s not just hot as hell. It’s holy.

I lean over him, my mouth pressing against his neck, the tension between us electric, unbearable.

We move. Slow at first, measured, like the build-up of a storm. Each rise and fall sends tremors through us both. His fingers dig into my skin, grounding me, worshipping me. Every motion sends more of him against that spot inside me, and I cry out, my voice ragged, guttural.

“You’re perfect,” Kael grits, his hands now guiding me harder, faster.

Our bond hums—an unrelenting current of ecstasy and emotion—and soon we’re past words, past reason. There’s only sensation: the sound of skin meeting skin, the shuddering gasps, the heat, the slick slide of bodies made for each other.

I ride the edge of it, my hands braced against his chest, my head thrown back. He meets every thrust from below, matching my rhythm, his breath raspy, worshipful.

“I’m not going to last,” he growls, and the tension in his body, the ecstasy of his emotions tells me he’s close.

“Then don’t,” I whisper, leaning down, kissing him hard when he angles his face for me. “Let go. With me.”

And when he does, it’s like the world shatters around us—light, heat, love, and hunger exploding in a blinding surge that leaves us trembling and undone. For a heartbeat, the rest of the world falls away.

Then another.

And another.

We stay this way—breathless, entangled, our bodies still joined, our bond humming like a pulse beneath our skin. His fingers trace slow, reverent circles along my back. My forehead rests against his, our breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

Nothing exists outside this moment. No missions. No chaos. Just us.

But reality is a persistent little bastard. It snaps back like a rubber band, fast and rude. The cold air brushes sweat-damp skin. Somewhere in the distance, people are counting on us.

Kael pulls back slightly, his chest heaving. His hand lingers on my cheek like he’s not quite ready to let go.

I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. “So. That happened.”

“You are radiant,” Kael murmurs, like he can’t quite believe it.

I flush. “Right, well, now that I’ve been filled with your magical lightning juice or whatever it is?—”

Kael chokes on a laugh.

“—we should probably go see if I’ve gained any superpowers. Like heat vision. Or the ability to eviscerate someone with sarcasm.”

“You already had that,” Kael says drily, brushing a thumb along my cheek.

“True.”

We stand together. Our bond thrums steady and alive between us, a lifeline tethering us to something far bigger than ourselves. And even with everything waiting outside this door—danger, politics, a possibly dying prince—I know this: We’re not alone anymore.

Not ever again.

The cum still in my arse is a pretty spectacular reminder too. Am I sticky? Yep. But fuck if I don’t like it. And from the way Kael watched his cum leak from me when I bent over to get dressed, he’s fully on board with my desire to keep him inside me for as long as possible.

I knew he was a kinky fucker.

The thought guides me as we strap on our weapons.

Kael is a walking weapon himself, his full armour fitted like a second skin—dark metallic plating contoured to his broad form, layered for both movement and defence.

Flashes of burnt orange gleam at the joints and edges, pulsing faintly like coals in a dying fire.

The jagged symbols etched across his chest plate are like scars—emblems of rank, of battles fought, of victories claimed.

He slips his helm into place under his arm, not putting it on just yet, and the way his muscles move beneath the thick armour is enough to make my knees forget how to function.

I, on the other hand, am in leather pants that might be the best trade I’ve ever made—scavenged from a recent haul and bartered for with some rare glassware I found months ago.

They hug just right. Supple, dark, tough as hell, and lined with heat-reactive fabric that keeps me from freezing my ass off in the Terrafearan climate shifts.

The dagger harness Varek gave me sits snug against my ribs and thighs—four blades total, one at each hip, two sheathed along my back. Functional and badass.

But still, I feel a bit like I’m playing dress-up compared to Kael’s royal guard battle couture.

I tug my shirt down, self-conscious. “Kinda wish I had a gun.”

Kael glances at me, amusement glittering in his eyes. “You’d shoot your foot.”

“I would not.” I pause. “Okay, yeah. I would.”

“I will protect your feet,” he says solemnly.

I snort. “My hero.”

But the next moment happens so fast, I barely register it until I’m pinned.

Kael steps forwards, crowding into my space, his armour clinking softly as he backs me into the nearest wall.

His large hands find my waist, gripping with just enough force to make my breath stutter.

Then, in one smooth motion, he lifts me—just hauls me up the wall like I weigh nothing—and my thighs grip around his hips instinctively, our faces level now, our chests brushing with every breath.

“Kael—”

He kisses me.

No warning. No hesitation. Just raw, molten heat crashing into me.

It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s possessive and consuming and so fucking intense that for a second, I forget where we are or what’s coming. His mouth moves against mine like he’s memorising me—like this kiss is the anchor before we dive headfirst into something that could kill us.

His hands grip tighter, pulling me impossibly closer, like he’s trying to fuse us together. My fingers find the edges of his armour and clutch tight, and he groans into my mouth like I’ve hit some pressure point that unravels him.

Every nerve ending in my body lights up like a star gone supernova.

I don’t remember closing my eyes, but when I open them, his are already on me—glowing faintly, his nostrils flaring, his bioluminescent markings pulsing in rhythm with the bond thrumming between us.

“That,” I whisper, breathless, my lips still brushing his, “was not from a Mills & Boon novel.” For real, I don’t recall any books from Mum’s collection being cock-dripping levels of hot like this.

Kael’s smile is slow, wicked. “Good.” And then he lowers me gently to the ground—though his fingers linger just a moment longer as he reaches my butt and rubs his fingers against my crease. “Let’s go save them,” he says.

And damn it, I’d follow him anywhere. Even to a place I have no desire to visit, let alone to somewhere that might not actually exist. But as he grips my hand and tugs lightly, I follow willingly, trying to ignore my hardening cock.

Where he goes, I go.