Page 138 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

NICO

It’s in the darkness that the ghosts of my past come to haunt me. I knew that falling asleep would mean opening myself up to the memories, but tonight I’m helpless to stop it.

In my dream I’m a kid again, just a teenager. They’ve taken me, using me as leverage against my old man. I’m scared, alone, and angry. I know my old man’s not gonna give in easily, and I’m not sure how long I can hold out.

So, I fight. I bite, kick, and scratch my way to freedom. It’s not easy, and I take a few hits, but I manage to get away. I run through the night, my heart pounding, each sharp breath stabbing my lungs. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I can’t stop. I have to keep moving.

As I run, the city streets blur around me, the buildings and alleys of my childhood streaking by.

Then it hits me that something has changed.

I’m older now, and fresh from another fight with my old man.

Still angry and hurting, I don’t go home.

Instead, my feet take me to the clubhouse, the one place I know I’ll be safe.

The door of the clubhouse swings open, and I step inside, the familiar sights and smells washing over me. I pause, taking in the empty room, the scattered chairs and tables, and the faded graffiti on the walls. A weight lifts from my shoulders as I realize I really am safe here.

I blink, and suddenly the clubhouse isn’t empty anymore. My heart races as I take in the scene in front of me. Quinn is here, but she’s not free. She’s tied to a chair, her eyes wide with fear and desperation. My people, the ones I trusted, are holding her captive.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand, my voice raw with anger and confusion.

Killian and Atlas burst through the door behind me, concern etched on their faces.

“Nico, we heard something was wrong,” Killian says, his hand on my shoulder.

Atlas nods, his eyes darting around the room. “We’re here to help, brother.”

I feel a surge of gratitude, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the urgency of the situation. We need to get Quinn out of here.

“Let her go!” I shout, taking a step forward.

But the Princes of Carnage—my people—don’t back down. Instead, they draw their weapons.

“Sorry, Nico. Can’t do that,” one of them says, his voice cold and unfamiliar.

Everything happens fast after that. Killian and Atlas spring into action, trying to clear a path to Quinn. I’m right behind them, my fists flying, desperate to reach her.

But we’re outnumbered. Outmatched. I watch in horror as Killian takes a hit and goes down. Atlas roars with rage, charging forward, but he’s overwhelmed too.

“No!” I scream, fighting harder, but it’s not enough.

Suddenly, I smell smoke. Panic grips me as I realize the clubhouse is on fire. The flames spread quickly, engulfing everything in their path.

“Quinn!” I yell, pushing through the chaos, ignoring the heat and the smoke.

I can see her now, still tied to the chair, the flames getting closer. Her eyes meet mine, filled with terror and something else… resignation?

No. Fuck no. She’s not going to die like this. None of us are.

I’m almost there, just a few more steps. But the fire is faster. It reaches her before I can, and I’m forced back by the intense heat.

“Quinn!” I scream again, but it’s too late. The flames have taken her, and there’s nothing I can do.

I jerk awake with a strangled shout, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sweaty and momentarily disoriented, the nightmare still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.

My eyes dart around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings before I remember I’m in Quinn’s house, in the room that’s become mine.

As my breathing starts to slow, I become aware of a warm presence next to me. Quinn. The memory of her crawling into bed after we all finally made it home last night flickers through my mind.

I tighten my hold on her, pulling her closer. The dream flashes through my mind—the fire, the clubhouse, Quinn tied to that chair. My jaw clenches as I try to push the images away, but they’re sticking around just to taunt me tonight.

My emotions are raging out of control, a chaotic mix of fear, anger, and an overwhelming need to protect. I’m furious at my subconscious for conjuring such a horrific scenario, angry at myself for not being able to save her even in my fucking dreams.

My entire body tenses with the effort of holding it all in. I don’t want to wake Quinn, don’t want her to see me like this, so damn raw and vulnerable. But the nightmare has shaken me to my core, leaving me feeling exposed and on edge.

I focus on Quinn’s steady breathing, trying to match my own to hers. She’s here, she’s safe. We all made it out of the chaos at the clubhouse earlier tonight. But the fear lingers, a cold knot in my stomach that refuses to unwind.

My fingers trace light patterns on her arm, needing the physical reassurance that she’s really here. The dream felt so real, the heat of the flames, the desperation in Quinn’s eyes.

I’m jolted from my spiraling thoughts as Quinn stirs beside me. She turns her head, her sleepy eyes meeting mine in the dim light.

“You were muttering in your sleep,” she murmurs, her voice thick with concern. “Nightmare?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. The images from the dream flash through my mind again, and I clench my jaw, trying to keep it all contained.

Quinn shifts, propping herself up on one elbow. Her gaze is steady, searching my face. “I can see you’re trying to hold it all in, Nico. Everything that happened tonight… it’s a lot. It would be a lot for anyone.”

I look away, unable to meet her eyes. The emotions are threatening to overtake me—grief, anger, fear—all battling for dominance.

“Hey,” Quinn says softly, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. She gently turns my face back to hers. “Take it out on me.”

I blink. “What?”

“Fuck your emotions out,” she says, simply and quietly and completely serious. “Whatever you need to let out, I can take it.”

I hold her gaze, my emotions churning even harder as I see the trust in her eyes. She means it. She’ll let me do anything. The realization hits me—she wants it, and she really can take whatever I do to her.

It’s almost instinctual—the primal urge to take, to claim, to exert my will over hers, and to show her just how much I need this.

My desire for her is raw and animalistic now, fueled by the nightmare and the chaos of the night.

I want to possess her, to make her mine in the most basic, instinctual way.

I need her to feel it all, to understand what she does to me, and what I’ll do to protect her.

Before I can second-guess myself, I roll her onto her stomach, pulling her up onto her knees. The position is stark and primal, exposing her in a way that triggers every protective and possessive instinct in my body. I can’t stop myself from claiming her like this, marking her as mine.

I press myself against her, trapping her hands above her head against the mattress. She makes a soft sound of surprise, but it quickly turns into a moan as I thrust against her, letting her feel every inch of my cock inside her.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, thrusting as hard and deep as I can. “Fucking take it. Gonna fill that tight pussy.”

“Yes. God, yes.” Her breath quickens, and she arches her back, pressing against me, encouraging me. “Give it to me. Fucking give me all of it.”

My mouth finds her neck, and I bite down, marking her with my teeth.

She gasps, and I feel her shiver beneath me.

I can’t stop myself from growling, the sound rumbling in my chest as I claim her with my mouth, my teeth, and my cock.

She’s mine, and I want her to know it, to feel it in the deepest, most intimate way possible.

I drag my open mouth down her spine, biting and tasting her, marking a path to the curve of her ass. I grip her hips and pull her back onto me, wanting her to take every inch.

“Yeah, you fucking like it, don’t you?” I grit out, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. “Gonna fuck you so hard, so deep.”

She cries out, her voice breathless and desperate. “Yes, please. Harder.”

I groan, my control fraying as I thrust into her, over and over, driven by the need to claim and possess. “Yeah? You like it when I take what’s mine? Tell me. Say it.”

“Yes!” she cries, her head thrown back, her body shaking. “It’s yours, all yours. Please, more.”

Releasing her wrists, I grasp her hips and flip her over. She lands on her back, her legs falling open, and I lunge back into her, our bodies slamming together. She’s so wet and ready, taking me deep.

“You feel that?” I growl, my eyes locked on hers. “You feel how deep I’m in you?”

She bites her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as I move in and out of her. “Yes, please don’t stop.”

I reach down, wrapping my hand around her throat, applying just enough pressure to let her know I’m in control. She makes a soft sound, her eyes flying open, meeting mine.

I lean in, my lips brushing hers as I thrust into her. “Come for me, mia cara,” I murmur against her mouth. “Let me feel it.”

She shudders, her walls clenching around me as she obeys. “Nico!” she cries out, arching beneath me.

I let go of her throat, my hand moving down to her hip as I thrust through her orgasm, wanting to draw out her pleasure. “That’s it, just let go. Feel me inside you.”

Her mouth drops open as the climax rolls through her, seeming to go on forever, and my self-restraint finally snaps. I drive into her hard and fast, my balls drawing up tight. As the last shudder of her orgasm wracks her body, I come inside her, spilling my release into her tight pussy.

We’re both breathing hard in the aftermath, and our gazes meet as the tension in our bodies starts to drain away.

Her tears start to fall then—a mix of the raw, intense pleasure and the catharsis of the last few days.

It shreds me inside to see them, but I know this is what she needs. It’s what we both need.