Page 8 of Murgul
“Murgul, you need to know that there were these things calledromance novelsback on Earth, and I adored them. Devoured them, actually. My favorites were anything paranormal and sci-fi, which means I read love stories between human women and non-human males. That is what I routinely fantasized about late at night alone in my bed. I just never expected my smutty monster romance books to turn into my reality.
Murgul looks gobsmacked.
“It’s true. You can ask any of the other human females about them. Those things did exist in my world, and more women thanyou would think read them—whether they would admit it or not.”
“I have no need to verify your words, bright one. Your scent holds all the truth I need.”
VROG
Well, well, well. What an interesting piece of information. Let’s see how much she likes monsters.
Chapter Six
GWENDOLYN
I can’t believeI basically told Murgul I used to masturbate to monster smut.
My face is still hot hours later as I enter the futuristic-looking bathroom to begin getting ready for bed. Peering in the mirror, I can see that I’m still flushed with embarrassment at how overly forward I was. Cupping my hands under the cold stream of water flowing from the utilitarian vanity faucet, I splash water on my face in a vain attempt to alleviate my unease. If my parents were here, they would be appalled at my conduct and admission to reading such “uncouth” literature. Picking up the pretty little pink jar that Murgul gave me a few days ago, I pour some soap out and start my nighttime routine.
Just because aliens abducted me doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop taking care of my hair and skin.
Murgul and I spent the rest of the afternoon in our room,talkingand getting to know each other. I’m not sure what powers are out there, whether or not his gods of Ruk exist, or if it’s the work of my God, but someone knew what they were doing when they gave him the ability to link to our minds. The idiom“all things happen for a reason”comes to mind even as a pang of sympathy flares when Murgul’s scars flash across my thoughts.
Not that I would ever wish whatever happened to Murgul onanyone.
The marks liberally decorating his skin create a map that speaks of pain and torture. It’s not a topic I’m willing to broach with him. If he wants me to know about his time with the nasty bug aliens they call the Velgriddix, then he will tell me.
Rinsing my face, I reach for a hand towel and pat my skin dry, heart swelling with affection as I finish. Apparently, being a bachelor is universal, because Murgul had no clue what a hand towel was. I had to explain it to him, amongst other things. However, the second he figured out what I was talking about and was asking for, he took me to their cargo bay to rummage through crates for whatever I wanted.
If there was ever a question that the Ruks are pirates, a trip through the cargo bay would quickly confirm it. Part of the large room is used to store their shuttles, while the other half is full of… well… plunder. The assortment of items ranges from delicate and shiny to sharp and deadly, with everything in between. During that first trip, Murgul told me that I was welcome to come and go as I pleased and to take whatever struck my fancy.
So, I did just that. I’d visited what I now affectionately refer to as theplunderdomeseveral times until I found everything I needed to be comfortable in my new living situation. Not that I really had any choice in essentially moving in with Murgul. Sure, I was a little peeved, somewhat resentful, and a lot scared at first. However, after listening to Ruby and Rowan explain how the mating process works for these big guys, in addition to my own secret yearning for someone to love, the negative emotions faded pretty fast for the most part.
Murgul’s revelations earlier and the consequential conversations we’ve had have completely snuffed out my initial fear. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve found him appealing from the beginning. I always did like a tortured bad boy persona, but once bitten, twice shy and all that. Which, when added to his extremely intimidating persona, would make anyone a bit scared. I may have been portrayed in my past life as an idiot, bimbo blonde, but I’m far from stupid.
Exiting the bathroom, my eyes land on my most prized possession. It’s an anthology of nothing butBeauty and the Beastretellings, is almost eight hundred pages long with a stylized stained glass cover reminiscent of the cartoon I watched growing up, and to top it off, it’s a hardback. I didn’t even know such a thing was printed on Earth, but it really shouldn’t shock me. Whatdidknock me off my feet is that the book is printed in American English and is nearly in perfect condition. I’d found it entirely by accident, digging through one of the various crates full of miscellaneous items. Murgul’s surprised reaction to it earlier tells me that it’s probably worth more than I want to know.
Smiling at my little piece of home, I climb up the steps on my side of the bed and slip under the covers, sighing as my body relaxes into its comforting embrace, and my head thumps into the fluffy pillow I pilfered. Wiggling around, I finally settle in before rolling to my side toward Murgul, only to find him watching me with a soft smile on his face. This is the first night I’ve convinced him to sleep in the bed with me. My fear of him spurred his reluctance, but now that we can communicate, my fear is gone. There’s no reason for him to cram himself on that tiny couch on the other side of the room, and I told him as much before I grabbed my nightgown and went to get ready for bed. Gazing over at him, I realize our faces are so close we could kiss if we wanted to.
And why shouldn’t we kiss? We’re mates after all, and contrary to what he thinks, he IS handsome to me.
A soft, raspy chuckle catches my attention.
“What?”
“Nothing. I enjoy watching you bask in simple pleasures such as a soft sleeping platform. You relish the little things just as I do.”
Heat fills my face—my blush returning in full force as his eyes soften before dropping to my mouth.
“Murgul?”
“Yes, bright one?”
“Do you know what a kiss is?”
His eyes widen in disbelief before narrowing; an almost cautious expression crosses his face.
“Yes, I know of kissing.”