Page 8 of The Rhino’s Rose: Fate’s Falls (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

ROSE

It’s happening. Tonight.

I know Cornelius will be okay if I change my mind and tell him I’m not ready. But I am ready. I’ve been ready to have this night with him since the first time I met him. Except, on that day, I had no idea how huge his cock was. And I should have at least guessed it’d be huge, because by that point, I’d been in Lexi’s store, and Every Witch Way sells some obscenely large dildos, all of which are molded from real penises. But she didn’t have a rhino man model, so my na?ve nineteen-year-old brain just pictured Cornelius having a standard human cock, except in gray.

Oh, how wrong I was.

The water shuts off in the bathroom, and my pulse goes into overdrive, filling my ears with a staccato beat. The Jack and Jill door opens and Cornelius steps into the bedroom with a towel around his waist, the fluffy white terry barely reining in his erection. It’s like he has a tent pole under there. Only the pole is made from one of those trees with the freakishly large girth.

“You look pale. And shaky.” Cornelius doesn’t have eyebrows, but the movement of his ears is a telltale sign of concern. “When did you last eat? How about I carry you to the kitchen and make you dinner?”

“I don’t think I could eat right now,” I say, fiddling with the tie of my itty-bitty robe.

“Then I’ll carry you to the tub, help you get settled, and leave you to relax in private—but please call for me when you’re ready to get out.”

“And then what?”

“Then whatever you want to happen happens. Dinner. Television. Talking. Crafts. Cuddling. Or I can sleep in the guest room and give you space.”

“I don’t want space—did you say crafts?” I ask, giggling when he nods. “What would you do if I choose crafts?”

“Get my supplies out of the closet.”

He has to be teasing.

“What kind of supplies?”

“Crochet and modeling clay.” His mouth curves up at the corners when my bottom lip drops. “I’m not great at either, but better at crocheting. I mostly make balls with the clay.” Chuckling, he shrugs. “Rolling clay between my palms is very relaxing. ”

“And the crocheting? Do you have one incredibly long chain stitch going?”

“I’ve progressed from the single chain.” A twinkle lights his gray eyes. “I made the blanket I threw over you when you flashed me on the couch.”

An indignant huff bursts from my lips. “ That was an accident. Out at the pool, that was flashing.” Memories from last night play in my mind, melting away the nervousness from a few minutes ago. I know tonight will be amazing because he’ll make it that way. “It’s a beautiful blanket. I never would’ve guessed you made it.”

“There’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “And we have many decades to learn it all. There’s no rush, Rose.”

I know he’s not referring to our hobbies and interests. Not really. He’s letting me know it’s okay if we take our time in the bedroom. Or bathroom, since that was first on tonight’s list.

“I’d like to learn how to crochet if you’re willing to teach me, but not tonight. Tonight, I want you to teach me other things I’ve never done.”

“Anything you want.”

“I want you to drop the towel.” The words have barely left my mouth when the towel falls to the floor, leaving him fully naked in front of me. “Come closer.”

As big and heavy as he is, his footfalls are practically silent on the hardwood floor as he closes the distance between us, leaving enough space for me to see everything in clear detail.

“I don’t know where to look first,” I say, and he chuckles again. My face heats like I’m too close to the fire. Which makes sense, because Cornelius is the hottest man I have ever seen.

Gray all over—except for his cock—even the smoothest areas of his skin are textured, while other areas have a more pronounced bumpiness, and the skin on his shoulders and chest has a heavy, almost structured look. Heavily muscled, even in his thick middle, he exudes power.

I know he’s incredibly strong; I’ve seen him lift ridiculously large rocks with his bare hands. Even without all his muscles, he’s huge. The thought of him on top of me, pressing all that bulk against me while he fucks me, sends sparks racing between my legs.

Watching me with patient eyes, he waits for my gaze to drop below his thick middle, then opens his stance. His cock bobs with the shift in position, the hard length of it slapping against his midsection.

The tip isn’t a smooth taper, it’s almost blunt, with a ringlike shape at the top that has rounded bumps, sort of like a smoothed-out crown. Below that is a heavily veined section about the width of my hand. Then there are…I don’t know what exactly. Fins? Wings?

An audible gulp escapes before I can swallow it down.

He reaches for me, his big hand slipping under my chin, tipping it up so I’m looking into his kind eyes, not at his one-eyed monster. “Spending my life with you is all I need to be happy. ”

I curl my fingers around his shaft. “I want to raise the bar for ‘happy.’”

He groans as I trace the smooth, bumpy ring with the pad of my thumb, then slide my hand down, exploring the textured, protruding ridges on either side. “Consider it raised.” His enjoyment of my simple touch is exactly what I need to feel like a siren instead of a nervous little virgin.

“Tell me if I do something that doesn’t feel good,” I say, backing up carefully and settling on the small bench at the end of the bed.

“Anything you want to do is going to feel amazing to me.” He draws a deep breath when I take his cock in both hands, moving them up and down the thick, silky, lower portion before gripping the two protruding ridges like handles. “Really fucking amazing.” He groans again when I guide him to my mouth and trail my tongue over the crowned tip, then scoop the milky bead of precum at the center.

Another bead quickly takes its place, and I lap that one up too, mmming at the fresh, sweet taste of him on my tongue. Looking up his body, our gazes lock, and I open wide, encircling the head of his cock with my lips.

His breath rushes out in a husky rasp as I guide him deeper into my mouth. The ridges I’m holding bump against the corners of my mouth, preventing me from taking any more of him. “Gods, Rose,” he rasps when I swallow the ambrosial precum dribbling down my throat. Then he threads one hand through my hair and gently eases me off his cock. “What you’re doing feels amazing, but I don’t want to come in your mouth the first time you give me the privilege of being inside it.”

Butterflies flap wildly in my belly as he scoops me into his arms. Placing my palms on his chest, I feel his heart racing, too. “I want you,” I say softly, sliding my hands over every inch of skin I can reach. It’s like leather and concrete combined, and as he carries me to the bathroom, the subtle abrasion of it against my nipples tightens the longing building inside me. “I want to be with you, to feel you inside me.”

“Whatever you want, Rose, it’s yours.” After gently setting me on my feet, he tugs the bow at my waist and slides the silky robe off my shoulders, letting it flutter to the floor. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, lifting me again, then setting me in the tub. “How’s the temperature?”

“Perfect.” I curl my legs to my chest to make room when he doesn’t join me. “Is the water too hot?” It’s to my liking, but he told me rhinos prefer it cool.

“I’d get into boiling lava for you.” The water level rises from half to full when he settles his huge, mouthwatering body across from me, his arms along the curved backrest and his legs fully extended, one foot gently stroking my hip. In this position, the wavy motion of the water makes his cock look like a submerged marble statue.

When I look up, he’s watching me. Calmly. Patiently. But also, hungrily. He crooks a finger at me. “Come here, beautiful.”

Moving toward him, I almost can’t hear the gentle ripple of water over the pound of my heartbeat. “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper when his hands find my waist and pull me flush against him.

“Whatever feels good.” Gliding one hand up my back, he cups my head and guides my mouth to his. His tongue slips between my lips and his horn presses against the side of my face, reminding me of the pleasure he gave me when he had me grinding my clit on it.

I follow the rhythm of the kiss, pressing my pussy against his rock-hard length. The thick width of it spreads me, my clit roaring to life at the contact.

His chest rumbles, the vibrations radiating through me. The hand at my waist travels down to my backside, kneading my squishy flesh before sliding between my legs.

I gasp into his mouth when his finger slides inside my pussy, then whimper when it withdraws.

“I’m going to give you everything you need,” he says, entering me with two fingers, then, on the next stroke, adding another. He swivels his wrist, making his fingertips brush against something inside me that has me rocking against him. “One more, beautiful.” Before it registers in my brain, his fingers withdraw, then slide inside me again, stretching me wider.

One more.

Four long, thick fingers fill me, the base of them nestled between my lips. I’m so full, but I want more. I need more. Gripping his shoulders, I grind on him, rolling my clit along his shaft. With each downward movement, his hand eases deeper inside me, filling me with an erotic burn. The first flicker of orgasm tingles beneath my clit, then goes off like a bomb inside me. Panting and writhing, I come until I can barely breathe from the onslaught of pleasure.

His fingers slip out of me as the last ripple of orgasm fades, then his hands are on my waist again, lifting me, guiding my entrance to the head of his cock. He doesn’t push inside or pull me onto him, just looks into my eyes and waits, giving me the choice.

“Yes.” The word leaves me on a breath as I wiggle downward. The tip of his cock slips inside me easily. Then those two protruding ridges press against my labia, stretching me open to take them. “Oh, gods…” I moan as their hard, bumpy texture ignites every nerve ending they touch. And when they press against that extra-sensitive spot inside me, I cry out as I come, hard and fast.

“I love it when you come.” His deep, gravelly voice sends a shiver through me. Holding me tight, he pushes deeper inside me, then eases back and goes even deeper. In and out, in and out, each stroke dragging his ridges over sensitive spots I didn’t know I had, pushing me closer to coming again. “You feel good, squeezing me so tight, taking me so deep.”

“More,” I pant, even though I don’t know how I can possibly take more of him inside me. But I want it. I need it. “Please.”

One big thumb finds my clit, rubbing it fast and hard, pushing me into another orgasm as he thrusts impossibly deeper. Grinding and jerking against him, I pant and moan, riding the endless wave of climax. Water slaps against us, our fucking sending it sloshing out of the tub.

“Fuck,” he groans, the hand on my hip gripping me tight, holding me in place as heat flares inside me, his cock throbbing and expanding until I gasp from the fullness of it.

“What-what’s happening?”

“The bloom,” he says, wrapping his arms around my back and holding me against his chest, his hips still pumping his cock inside me. “It won’t last long, but I can’t stop it. Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s—” My breath stutters as the spiral hits, and I’m coming again , this one a slow wave of sensual bliss that doesn’t end until his cock stops fluttering inside me. “What was that?”

“The bloom,” he says again, kissing my forehead. “That ring at the head of my cock flares when I come.”

“Oh! Like a flower blooming.”

“Exactly like that.”

“That’s kind of perfect, isn’t it, with me being your Rose?”

He gently lifts my chin, a smile on his face when our eyes meet. “It is, and you are.”

“The bloom, does it happen every time?” I ask, trailing my fingers over his wet, leathery skin. Just thinking about it brings my clit online, and I wiggle on top of him to get some pressure.

“Every time, my sweet Rose.” Still buried inside me, his cock thickens. Then his hands are on my hips, and he’s stroking deep inside me again, sending water slapping onto the bathroom floor.

A week or so later

CORNELIUS

I’m already out of bed and pulling on pants by the time Rose lifts her sleepy head from the pillow at the heavy rap of knuckles on the front door. The sound of heavy feet landing on the driveway next door woke me faster than any weekday alarm ever has.

“Is someone knocking?” She reaches for her phone from the side table, making an adorable huff when she sees the time. “Who in the world is at our door at six on a Sunday morning?”

Our door. If I had time, I would show her how much her use of “our” means to me.

“Your father.”

Her eyes look as if they might pop out of her head. “Shit! What is he doing here? He’s not supposed to be back for another week!” She tosses the covers off and lunges from the bed.

Before her feet touch the ground, I have my arms around her waist, catching her to prevent the impact. Her ankle is getting stronger by the day, but it’s a long way from being one hundred percent. The last thing we need right now is for her to reinjure it while naked, with her father, who isn’t aware of the change to his daughter’s relationship status, waiting at the front door.

“Thank you,” she says, pulling me down by the horn and caressing it while kissing me.

“Don’t wake the monster.” I peel her soft fingers from my horn. “I doubt your father would appreciate me greeting him with a hard-on.”

“Too late.” She giggles while checking out the bulge behind my fly. “Sorry?”

“You don’t look the least bit sorry,” I say with a chuckle, then give her a quick kiss before stepping away from temptation.

Another sharp knock on the front door startles the smile off of her face. “What should we do?”

Something inside me deflates. This isn’t how I envisioned revealing our relationship to Garion, but I did assume we’d tell him as soon as he returned from Sicily. “The choice is yours. What do you want to do?”

“The choice is ours , isn’t it?” She wraps her arms around her middle, a defensive posture I haven’t seen her take since I pulled my head out of my ass and told her how I feel about her. “Unless you’re not sure what you want.”

With one step, I’m in front of her, tugging her against me and stroking her long, silky hair while kissing her head. “You’re the center of every waking thought and every nightly dream. The past week has been the happiest of my life, and I want it to be the first week of forever with you. There is nothing I’m more sure about.”

She tips her head back, eyes shining, full lips curved in a smile more beautiful than any flower could ever be. “Then I should get dressed so we can answer the door together.”

The next round of insistent knocking rattles the wood as I’m setting Rose on her feet at the front door.

She doesn’t take a big breath or hesitate in any way; she just grabs the handle and flings the door open wide. “You’re back!” Genuine joy lights her face at the sight of her adoptive father.

“Dusci mia,” Garion says, stepping forward to hug her. Looking over her shoulder at me, his yellow eyes meet mine, but give nothing away. Releasing her, his gaze falls from her face. “What happened? I left you intact.”

Rose swallows, a loud gurgling sound audible in her throat, and her cheeks flare with a red blush.

“She sprained her ankle,” I say, when Rose remains tongue-tied. “Dr. Schaefer did a scan the next day and says it’s minor, but Rose has been careful to keep her weight off of it, including letting me drive her to and from the flower shop.”

“Thank you for seeing she was well taken care of.” Garion turns his attention to Rose. “Why didn’t you mention this in your messages?”

“Because you would’ve asked how it happened, and I didn’t want to lie to you, or tell you the truth, while you were halfway around the world.” With a careful hop, she’s by my side, her arms wrapped around my middle. “I slipped while getting out of Cornelius’s tub. Well, it was Cornelius’s tub when I slipped,” she says, then looks up at me, a wide, loving smile curving her beautiful pink lips. “Now it’s our tub.”

Garion’s brow line rises. At his back, his wings twitch, and I hold my breath, waiting for them to unfurl and the claws to come out, literally. Garion has never shown any sign of temper in the five years I’ve known him, but gargoyles are ferocious when in protector mode.

If I had a beautiful, innocent daughter and came home from a trip to find she’d been deflowered by the monster I’d asked to look out for her, I’d probably ram my horn through his chest. Or lower, where he really deserved to feel the pain.

“I love your daughter,” I say, breaking the silence hanging between us. “I’ve known she’s my true mate since the day I met her, and I spent five long years fighting my instincts and feelings. I thought about moving, leaving Fate’s Falls, but even if I couldn’t be with her as her mate, I couldn’t be away from her, either. I truly tried to respect your wishes of a full, human life for Rose. Every time I rejected her, it killed a piece of my soul. I hated hurting her, and I’ll never do it again. All I want to do is love, provide, and cherish her for the rest of my life, and she has honored me by saying yes.”

“And you, Rose?” Garion asks.

“He’s the only one I’ve ever wanted. The only person who’s ever made my heart race and my soul feel alive. I love Cornelius and, if fate hadn’t brought us together, I’m sure, without a doubt, there would never be anyone else for me.”

Garion’s gray lips shift, rising at one corner. “Fate brought you both to Fate’s Falls. Fate even went so far as to drop you next door to each other. But I get the credit for bringing you together.”

“ You? But you told Cornelius I deserve a full, human life.”

“I did say those words, yes. Because I wanted Cornelius to give you that life. The full, human experience of opening yourself to someone, trusting them, loving them with your whole heart and being loved the same way. The experience of having a family, if you choose to. Gargoyles are no strangers to the mate bond. I sensed on the day he arrived that Cornelius was meant to be that person for you.”

“All those times you told me what you wanted for Rose,” I say, meeting Garion’s yellow eyes, “I focused on the word ‘human,’ not ‘full.’ I thought you were subtly warning me away because you wanted her to be with a human.” Five years lost to assumptions. Five years I could have spent with Rose.

“Things happen when they’re supposed to happen,” she says, as if reading my mind.

Garion grunts a laugh. “Or when your father gives things a nudge by going out of town after removing an integral, yet difficult to diagnose, part from the hot water heater, and ensuring your adoring, devoted neighbor would come to the rescue.”

Rose’s bottom lip drops. “You broke the water heater on purpose?”

“It’s not broken. Just temporarily sabotaged. The headwinds last night were terrible, so I’m going home to fix the water heater so I can have a hot shower before sleeping for eight hours.” He leans in, kisses Rose’s cheek, then offers his hand for me to shake. “Welcome to the family.”

“It’s a pleasure and an honor to be part of it,” I say, Rose squeezing my middle as I clasp Garion’s hand.

“Dad, wait,” she calls as he’s walking away.

The smile on his face when he turns is pure love. Garion didn’t just rescue her eleven years ago, he gave her the experience she should have had for the first thirteen years of her life—to be loved unconditionally by a parent. To have that parent do whatever is necessary for their child to have a full, happy life.

And she loves him right back.

She hops to the doorway and leans out, the ends of her long red locks dancing in the morning breeze. “How do you know I haven’t had the water heater fixed already?”

“I paid the plumber not to fix it until I got home,” he says. “Like I said before, I’m taking credit for this one.” With a nod and a wave, he crosses the yards and enters the house next door. His house now, not theirs.

“Welcome home,” I say against Rose’s ear, pulling her tight to me after locking our front door. “Join me for a morning wallow, then breakfast in bed?”

“I’d love that.” Smiling at me, she wraps her arms around the back of my neck when I scoop her off her feet. “What’s for breakfast?”

“You, my sweet Rose. And I’m starving, so prepare to be devoured.”

Thank you for reading Cornelius and Rose’s fated mates love story!

I hope you enjoyed this sweet and spicy nugget of fluffy, feel-good romance.