Page 5 of The Rhino’s Rose: Fate’s Falls (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Four

ROSE

When Dr. Schaefer opens the bathroom door, Cornelius is right there, waiting, his big arms crossed over his broad chest. Instantly, his eyes meet mine, then his gaze drops to where the doctor is supporting me by the arm, and then lower, to where I’m keeping my right leg off the ground.

“What’s the prognosis?” he asks in that smooth, deep voice that gives me butterflies and a sense of ease at the same time.

“I didn’t detect any breaks or fractures in my physical or sensory examination, though I’d like to see Rose in my office tomorrow morning to do a technical scan, just to be certain. Unless the results prove otherwise, and I don’t expect that to be the case, I’d call it a sprain. Because of the swelling and Rose’s pain level, I’m leaving enough some extra-strength anti-inflammatories, and I’ll send a script through to the pharmacy when I get home. I’ll arrange for some crutches, too.”

“Thank you,” Cornelius says, nodding. “I’ll pick it up and make sure Rose gets to your office at whatever time you need her there. Is there anything else we need to know or do?”

We?

Before I can sputter out any sort of response, Dr. Schaefer smiles at each of us, then hands me over to Cornelius. The way he slides one arm around my waist and holds me close makes it feel like we really are a “we.” But I know he’s only acting this way out of guilt, obligation, or likely, a combination of both.

Dr. Schaefer continues regarding us as if seeing us together is a regular occurrence. Of course, she knows it’s not. She’s been my doctor since I came to Fate’s Falls eleven years ago as a frightened, shell-shocked thirteen-year-old. According to my friends who’ve lived in town their whole lives, Dr. Schaefer has been here longer—as in a lot longer—yet doesn’t appear to have aged a day. Being a shape-shifter, maybe she has control of everything about her physical form.

“RICE—rest, ice, compression, elevation,” she says, pulling a set of keys from a pocket on the outside of her medical bag, then moving toward the front door. “Absolutely no weight on that foot until the swelling is completely gone.”

“Got it,” Cornelius says. “Thanks for coming out so late in the evening. ”

“Always available to help if I’m needed.” With one last smile, and what I swear is a knowing nod in my direction, the good doctor sees herself out.

Then Cornelius and I are alone. And we’re touching.

Knowing he’s holding me so I don’t fall down or further injure myself doesn’t stop my body from responding to the closest contact we’ve ever shared. Squeezing my thighs together only makes things worse because the hint of pressure is a reminder of the orgasm I had in his bathtub. Something I shouldn’t have done but couldn’t resist.

I’ve always been intensely turned on by everything about Cornelius, and being in his house, naked in his tub, amplified my arousal to a will-not-be-ignored level. So I touched myself. And the riskiness of it, that he might hear, gave me a hair trigger. I don’t think I’ve ever come that fast. Definitely not without a vibrator.

Beside me, Cornelius clears his throat, and immediately, my face floods with heat. Not only have I ruined his evening, I’m standing here, leaning on him, rubbing my thighs against each other. And it’s audible , the sound of my slickness. Because I’m not wearing panties. I didn’t come over with expectations of anything other than a hot bath, but I also chose one of my shortest, slinkiest robes and a little slip of a nightie underneath—and nothing else.

None of which Dr. Schaefer questioned when she helped me get dressed. Since telepathy is among her enhanced senses, it’s safe to assume she knows everything I feel for Cornelius. Whether it was professionalism or simply kindness, she didn’t comment on my wardrobe choice—or its pointlessness, since her telepathy would also give her knowledge that Cornelius doesn’t share my feelings.

“I’m really sorry for everything that happened,” I say, attempting to extricate myself from his massive arm.

But he’s not having it. In fact, he pulls me closer. Tightens his grip on the dip of my waist. “No apology necessary, and what do you think you’re doing?”

“Hopping home.”

“Not on my watch.”

“Okay, I won’t argue if you want to help me hop home,” I say, trying not to show too much enjoyment of being cared for.

“That’s not happening either.”

“Then what—are you going to carry me?” The words are still exiting my mouth as heat rushes to my cheeks. “That was sarcasm. I wasn’t suggesting you carry me home. Just to be clear.”

“To be equally clear, I had no intention of carrying you home.”

Ouch. But after all my antics this evening, I had it coming.

“You’re staying here tonight.” Staring down at me, the corners of his mouth tick up ever so slightly when my bottom lip falls, leaving me gaping up at him.

All I can do is slow blink and make fish faces.

Now, he gives me an actual smile, along with a deep chuckle that might as well be his finger on my clit. “Give me a list of things you need from next door to get you through the night.”

Probably shouldn’t put my vibrator at the top of that list, right? At least I didn’t sprain my wrist.

“While you’re thinking about it, let’s get you settled on the couch,” he says, then, without warning, scoops me off my foot—singular—and into his arms. “This okay? Don’t want you to make that injury any worse.”

“It’s fine, thank you.” Fine? Fine? I’ve only fantasized about him picking me up like this since the first time we met. Only, in the fantasies, he carries me to bed. Still, being snug against his chest and thick arms is heaven. Even if only for the seconds it takes to cross the living room.

Placed gently on his massive couch, I can’t help shivering at the absence of his warmth. The motion catches his eye as he straightens in front of me. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

“I don’t need one.”

His gaze travels over my minimally covered body, with brief yet noticeable pauses at my breasts, then again at my upper thighs, where the edge of my nightie sits only about a hand’s width from my pussy. “You’re shivering,” he says, when another shudder ripples through me.

“I’m not cold.” My hard nipples attempting to pierce the thin satin fabric of my nightgown might indicate otherwise, but I’m sure Cornelius is aware of the real reason my boobs are giving him the double point .

It doesn’t take a telepath to know what’s going on in my head.

“The back door key is under a small pot of mini roses on the patio table,” I say, changing the subject. “But I’ll be fine at home if you can help me limp over there. You really don’t have to put me up in your guest room tonight.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. You’ll sleep in my bed.”

Again, my mouth falls open. My cheeks feel as if they’re literally on fire, and the heat from the blush spreads down my neck and across my chest before I can snap my bottom lip closed.

“It’s closer to the bathroom,” he says, gripping the back of his neck with one big hand, an action that makes his massive biceps pop up deliciously.

“Of course. That’s so thoughtful.” I smile, nodding as if I understood the reason without being told. But it’s fake. The smile. The casual tone. I should accept that he’s never going to invite me to his bed for intimate reasons, but the wishing and hoping refuse to die. Even after five years of his polite rejections.

“What do you want me to get from your place?”

“Sorry. You’re probably exhausted from working hard in the heat all day, and my bath fiasco is messing up your life.” I attempt to sit up straighter to present myself in a more attentive way, and end up presenting myself instead. As in, the loosely tied robe falls aside and the slippery nightie slides up my legs. I don’t have to look down at my lap to know that the peak of my pussy is playing peekaboo .

But I do look down. And so does Cornelius.

I scramble to tug the nightie into place, accidentally putting weight on my sprained ankle in the process, which results in shrieking and jerking in a way that fully exposes my naked lower parts rather than covering them.

Cornelius tosses a crocheted blanket over me as if he’s trying to smother a fire. Then he basically bolts from the room and the house, the back door closing sharply behind him.

I should be mortified. Humiliated. And part of me is, but the other part, the ever-hopeful part… she’s victoriously parading around inside me. Because before Cornelius played gentleman hero, he did three things.

He stared directly at my pussy.

He made the sexiest, hungriest, rumbling sound I’ve ever heard.

And he grabbed his cock through his pants.

Cornelius might not want to want me, but his body disagrees. Tonight, I’m going to make sure he knows I want him, too.

CORNELIUS

Sleep is never going to happen.

I only have a guest bed because the previous owner left it behind. Any time I thought about getting rid of it, something niggled at me to keep it. Ridiculous, since it’s a single bed made for a human or some other smaller-framed creature.

Tonight, I learned why I felt compelled to keep the bed—so I could offer it to Rose. And now Rose is sleeping in my bed, infusing my sheets and pillows with her essence.

For what has to be the hundredth time since I lay down on the guest bed, I roll onto my right side. Then onto the left. Then my back. Some part of me overhangs the mattress no matter what position I try.

Then there’s my damn cock, which has refused to go down since I got an eyeful of Rose’s bare pussy. Gods, the sight of her. Pink and glistening. And her scent. I had to get away before I dropped to my knees and devoured her right there on my couch.

She would have let me, I know she would. She would’ve come on my tongue, then I would’ve buried myself to the balls inside her. We’d be truly mated. I’d be fucking her and making her come right now, instead of fighting a losing battle for comfort in a bed that would barely fit our child.

The child I’d plant in her belly when I unload deep inside her.

“Fuck.” There’s no way I’m avoiding the inevitable. I shove my boxers down and take my cock in hand, gripping it hard as I begin to stroke. Wound as tight as I am, it won’t take long. Precum bubbles out of me, lubing my hand and making the sound of slapping skin fill the room. I pump my fist fast and hard, pulling the pillow over my face to mute the grunts I can’t suppress.

Images of Rose whip through my mind like an obsessed carousel. Her beautiful, fair face, shining red hair, soft curves, and that pink pussy I want to watch stretch around my cock as I slide inside her.

I groan as I erupt like a volcano, spurts of cum landing on my chest and rolling down my still-pumping hand. The last ripple isn’t even finished before my cock is on the rise. Jerking off is never going to satisfy the mating urge. As long as Rose is within reach, my cock will be ready for her.

I swipe the cum off my chest and wipe my hand on my boxers before snapping them into place over my straining, messy cock. As quietly as the creaking bed allows, I rise and move toward the door, grabbing a towel on the way out.

A quick pause at the master bedroom door reveals nothing but the sound of restful breathing on the other side. Good. Bad enough that I literally can’t get control of myself, but I sure as hell don’t want her aware of my obsessed state.

The snick of the patio door’s lock is sharp against the late-night silence. The glide across the track isn’t loud by any stretch, but noise I’d rather not be making just the same. After stepping outside, I leave the door open behind me. A sleeping Rose won’t hear me out here, but I need to be able to hear her, should she call for help.

At the pool’s edge, I glance back at the darkened house, listening for any hint of alertness or movement inside. All quiet, thank gods. I strip out of the boxers and toss them under a chair, then descend the steps, careful not to make even the smallest splash as I maneuver to the wallowing area I built into the shallow end.

I lower myself so my shoulders and neck rest against the divot molded into the pool’s edge. The wallow won’t alleviate my endless yearning for Rose, but the moderately cool water soothes the physical heat that’s been building since she arrived at my door.

With my eyesight, looking out toward the forest that both my property and Garion’s back up to is like staring into an abyss, so I close my eyes and let my legs rise from the bottom of the pool. With my workdays, I’m rarely awake at this hour. Nature’s nighttime sounds fill my ears with their relaxing melody. I inhale deeply, pulling scents of earth, trees, grass, blooming flowers, and nocturnal wildlife into my nostrils. I don’t want to replace Rose’s scent there, but it’s best if I do, even for a short time.

I adjust my position to get better buoyancy, exhaling to release some of the tension that’s been coiled tight for the past few hours. The low sound of my grunt quickly dissipates in the summer night air. Past few hours? Not even remotely accurate. I haven’t been anything other than tense for the past five years. When a rhino finds their mate, they’re meant to act. Claim. Pleasure. Cherish. Breed. Denying my natural mating urges has been a daily battle.

After everything that happened tonight, it’s brutally clear that I’ve lost. Since I can’t follow through on my instincts, I can’t be around Rose. As soon as Garion is back, I’ll leave town.

Until then, my hand is going to get one hell of a workout.

As if summoned, my cock breaks the surface of the water, its ringed crown like a magnet for my fist. I’m two long strokes in when her scent replaces all the rest. Sweeter than any bloom, it’s like a siren call. But I don’t turn to look at her.

She’d say my name or clear her throat if she wanted my attention. Instead, she’s hanging back, out of my sightline, not making a peep. Watching me, and from the arousal wafting from her, she’s enjoying the view.

Gods, I want to give her a show. Let my mate see the full length and girth of my cock, its wide ridges nature designed to pleasure my mate, how it erupts when I stroke it while saying her name. Except I’m not sure I could hold myself back afterward. Not with her smelling so fucking ready .

Forcing my hand from my cock, I lower my feet to the bottom of the pool, leaving only my head and shoulders above the water’s surface. “Do you need help?”

She answers with one of her gurgled gasps, and I can’t help smiling, especially since she can’t see it.

“I…I just…I…”

I shouldn’t enjoy that she’s flustered and embarrassed and turned on. But I do. I really fucking do. “Is there something I can do for you, Rose?”

For a moment, there’s just silence. Then, “Yes, actually.”

I push off from the wall and turn toward the house. “Give me a minute to dry off and I’ll be right there.”

“No, stay there,” she says, hopping toward me using the impromptu walking stick I made from a broom handle.

The need to protect her surges inside me. If I weren’t naked, I’d already be out of the pool. “Do you want to come in the pool—do you think it’ll make your ankle feel better?”

“Yes to the first question. But not in the way you mean it.”

There’s no mistaking that innuendo, and my cock is all for it. Thank gods the pool lighting is subtle enough to make her view of my underwater body parts indistinct.

My night vision is shit, but the shimmer in her eyes when she looks down at me from poolside is clear as day. The broom handle clatters on the stone patio. Then, propped against the pool stairs’ railing, she pulls the tie at her waist and lets the skimpy satin robe fall open, revealing nothing but skin underneath.

I barely stifle a groan as she wiggles the robe off of her body. “I think the medication Dr. Schaefer gave you is affecting your judgement.”

“Some extra-strength ibuprofen has nothing to do with this. ”

“What exactly do you think this is?” The words croak out of my dry mouth.

“Two consenting adults giving in to their mutual attraction,” she says, carefully lowering herself to sit on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. Naked. Fully, gloriously, naked.

If I reached out my left arm, I could slide it up the inside of her leg, all the way up. “We’re not giving in to anything. I can’t.”

“I saw you, Cornelius. I saw your…” A soft little sound slips from her parted lips before she pulls the bottom one between her teeth. Totally naked in front of me, yet she can’t say the word cock, or any of its equivalents. Clearing her throat, she gives me a smile. “It looked pretty capable to me.”

Show her exactly how capable it is. I shake away the voice. The urges and instincts. “It’s not that I physically can’t. I won’t.”

Even in the dim lighting, the sting of rejection is written all over her face. “Oh gods. I-I’m so sorry. After earlier, I thought—I honestly thought you—” Shaking her head makes her hair fall around her face like a curtain as she bows her head while hugging herself.

This is it, the moment that ends it all. The rejection and embarrassment that sends her off for the last time. She’ll stop looking at me. Stop wanting me. She’ll go on to find an appropriate match. Someone who will give her the full, human life she deserves, like her father has often said.

“You thought right, Rose.” I shouldn’t do this, but when she looks up and meets my eyes, I don’t care about right and wrong, only wiping away the hurt I caused. “I won’t give in to it, but I am attracted to you.”

“Are you just saying that now so I don’t feel totally humiliated for trying to seduce you?”

Stepping back from the edge of the pool, I spread my arms wide and assume a floating position on my back, allowing my cock to break the water’s surface. Not the full length of it, but enough for her to see it’s hard as stone and standing tall like a sturdy tree. “I’m not in this state because I feel bad for you, Rose.”

Her wide-open eyes locked on my cock, she gasps, her full lips remaining parted as I lower my feet, removing the monster from view. Then her mouth snaps shut as she meets my gaze, her eyebrows pulling together at the bridge of her nose. “You could still be trying to make me feel better. Maybe rhino men are hard all the time.”

This rhino feels like he’s hard all the time, that’s for damn sure. And it’s always because of her. “No, that’s not the case. We get hard when aroused, the same as most creatures.”

“And you’re aroused because of?—”

“You,” I say, cutting her off. “You’re the reason. Every time.”

Leaning forward, she blinks her beautiful eyes at me. “Since when?”

Shame floods me like a tidal wave. “My answer may change your feelings or what you want, but you, more than anyone, deserve complete honesty. ”

“Because I took a leap and literally bared it all?” she says, a self-deprecating smile curving her lips.

“That’s one reason.” Before she can ask what other reasons exist, I clear my throat and lay bare the truthful answer to her previous question. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day we met. It hit me hard, and so did the shame. I didn’t want to feel that way about you. You were too young for me. You still are. You deserve better than a nonhuman twice your age.”

“All this time? You’ve wanted me the way I’ve wanted you?”

“I’ve been fighting the pull toward you every minute of every day for five years,” is the wording I choose. Telling her she’s my mate, that I’ve known it since I first laid eyes on her…that’s a whole other level of honesty. “Tonight proved I’m losing the fight.”

“I’m glad you lost,” she says, shimmying along the pool’s edge until she’s at the curved area made for my shoulders, which puts her directly in front of me. “Though your math is lacking. You’re not twice my age. I’m twenty-four and you’re thirty-five, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Plus, I was an adult when we met. Not just in the legal sense. The life I came from, the one I escaped, it made me a lot more mature than most nineteen-year-olds, even though you couldn’t have known that when we met. Regardless, I was a woman. There’s no reason to feel weird about seeing me as one.”

It doesn’t sound so bad when she says it. Or maybe that’s me rationalizing so I can have what I want .

“As for the nonhuman part,” she continues, “Does it bother you that we’re different? Because I don’t care that we’re not the same species. You being different just makes me want to learn about you. Like earlier today, when I found out you’re a vegetarian by nature of your species. And tonight, when I discovered that your… equipment ,” that last word comes out on a choked breath, “isn’t the same shape as a human man’s. Which I only know from pictures and the toys Lexi sells in her store. I…I’ve never seen a real human one. Or any other species.”

Gods above, is she saying what I think she’s saying?

“I’ve been on some dates,” she says, as if reading my mind. “But I never felt anything, even from the goodnight kiss. When I’m near you, or even thinking of you, though…I feel things. A lot of things.”

“I feel a lot of things too.” More than just desire. A hell of a lot more. Maybe if I told her about the mating pull, how I know with every fiber of my being that she’s the only one for me, it’d spook her. But I can’t bring myself to do it, just like I couldn’t let her believe I’d rejected her again. For all my five years of good intentions, I’m still selfish. Getting more so with each passing minute.

I move toward her, my big body slicing the still water until I’m standing before her parted legs. Close enough to touch her, but I keep my hands at my sides. “I’m sorry that my attempt to keep you at arm’s length made things uncomfortable.”

“One thing I’ve come to realize is that things happen when it’s time for them to happen. All those times I tried to talk to you but got tongue-tied means I wasn’t ready to talk to you. The times I did things to get you to look at me the way you’re looking at me now, but you turned away, you weren’t ready to see me this way. And now we’re both ready, I hope.” Whether consciously or otherwise, her legs part, wide enough to give me an unobstructed view of her pussy.

Somehow, my mouth goes dry and waters at the same time. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

The way she nods, you’d think I asked if she wants to win the lottery. If she says yes, it’s me who’s going to win the prize, even though I have no business claiming it.

“Rhinos don’t have the best eyesight, especially in the dark, so I’m going to need you to say it. Do you want my face between your legs, making you come with my tongue inside you?”

She squeaks, her hands flying up to cover her face. A muffled “yes” comes through.

Unable to resist any longer, I move closer, wedging my big body between her knees and gently peeling her fingers from her face, then holding her small, soft hands inside mine. “After showing me your beautiful body and sharing your heart, you’re embarrassed by a question about consent and receiving pleasure?”

“Because now that it’s finally, finally, really happening with you, I don’t know how to act.”

“Don’t act. Don’t think or guess or worry. There’s no right way of being intimate. Just do whatever comes naturally.”

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong? ”

“I won’t need to,” I say, guiding her hands behind my head. “Nothing you could do would be wrong.”

“At the risk of scaring you off again, you’re putting a lot of faith in a completely inexperienced virgin.”

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Unless you tell me to step back, I’m not going anywhere. Except down, between your legs.” This close to her, I can see her pulse point hammering in her neck, and though her scent is still flush with arousal, it also carries notes of nervousness. “You can always change your mind. At any time, any point, just say no, and I’ll stop.”

“Okay.” Her voice is as soft as her touch against the back of my neck. “Can I say start instead?”