Page 63 of Nightshades

I’m not that dumb. I know there are other monsters here. I see them, and I know they can sense me. I can’t have my mate walking around without my mark or without my scent! What kind of man would I be if I allowed other males to think she is available?

I would have to kill so many. As much as I would love that, I’d rather have her smell of me. I want to know I’ve done everything in my power to bind her to me, and now that I have her here, naked, bared to me, I want nothing more than to breed her.

I think it’s the only way for my beasts to calm down. My skin crawls with need. I feel the monsters that make me stretching my skin, pushing at my bones to consume her.

Gliding my nails up her inner thighs, I push one finger inside her slick cunt. One finger is three of hers, wide and long, and even finger fucking her won’t be enough to prepare her for my cock.

Reaching between my legs, I stroke myself, giving into the need to relieve the ache. I twist my palm over the tip, gathering the precome with every stroke that brings me closer to devouring her.

She whimpers again, this time it’s higher-pitched, as if she’s trying to scream. Glancing up, her lips are parted, and her eyes roll to the back of her head as her orgasm has her thighs tightening around my head.

Knowing she came because of me has my own orgasm threatening, but I hold off. I want every fucking drop to go inside her. That’s where it belongs—where I belong.

Standing, I don’t wipe my mouth. I want her to see how my lips shine from how wet I made her.

Roots travel up her body, twisting around her nipples, pulling gasps from her, and I place one arm against the wall while the other wraps around her neck.

“Let’s see what you fear the most, Little Dream. Let me in.” I smash my lips to hers, wanting her to taste herself, wanting to feel the give of her pillow-soft lips against mine.

Maybe one day, when she won’t run from me, and I won’t have to use my nightshade against her, she’ll kiss me because she craves it.

“Let me in,” I whisper against her lips, my nightmare drifting into her lungs with every breath I give.

I close my eyes, allowing my mind to travel to her subconscious, wanting her fear more than I have ever wanted anything else in this world.

“Interesting,” I say to myself in a soft, curious rumble.

I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.

I’m in a deserted city. Cars are in the middle of the roads. Some have crashed into one another; others are parked with doors open and windows busted. Weeds have overtaken the city. Vines have crawled up traffic lights and lamp posts,slithering, haunting greenery that is slowly taking over the city.

Everything is empty.

Thereare no children.

No pets.

No wild animals.

It’s as if everyone has vanished.

The skyscrapers get lost in the low-hanging clouds. The windows don’t even shine from the buildup of dirt and dust.

I begin to walk, curious as to why I am here, why her subconscious would take me to such a desolate place.

The first ice-cold chill seeps into my skin. I pause, flipping my palm over to catch a snowflake. When it melts, I gasp for the first time when I hear a child scream.

I wipe the water onto my jeans, questioning why the scream has made my chest hurt. I clutch my heart, wishing I could rip it free from my chest from the amount of pain that singular scream brought me.

I had forgotten that the snowflakes are memories, forgotten or not, allowing my nightmare to feed and decide what to scare them with next. It’s information. It’s survival, but with Lula, it feels…like an invasion.

“Hello?” Lula’s voice has me lift my head.

She’s distant. I can’t tell where she is.

“Hello! Is someone there?” she cries out again. “Anybody? Hello!”

I follow the sound of her voice, that is twitched with panic. Speeding to her in less than a few seconds, I duck behind a large truck, peering out its window. My eyes find her spinning in a circle every few steps, hoping to see someone behind her.