Page 44 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

She removed her underwear and tossed it aside, and then she unhooked her bra and let it slide to the floor.

She stood before him, naked, and this time, he let himself look.

Beautiful. Perfect. Every inch of her. Her round breasts.

Her small brown nipples, hard and tight.

Her slim waist and beautifully round hips.

And the short patch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs.

Images invaded his mind. Pumping hips and monstrous growls of possession. He swallowed, gasped, shut it out. He was tied down, tamed, and she was in charge. Not him.

Trust.

She climbed back up and swung her leg over his hips. “I think it’s best if I come,” she said, reaching between her thighs and using a finger to outline her lips.

He groaned. He couldn’t watch or he’d come too, and then it’d be over, and he wouldn’t let that happen. Not yet.

But he also had to watch. He couldn’t look away. So he gritted his teeth and watched as her finger moved on her body.

She was causing his cock to bounce on his stomach, and even that slight contact was sweet torture.

“I’m pretending this is your hand, Sam. I want this to be you touching me. Promise me it will be soon.” Her mouth parted as she arched her back, her nipples puckering tightly.

He grunted, his vision going hazy as he stared at her ever-quickening movements.

He was so tense his muscles ached, and his veins protruded from his skin, rushing hotly with blood.

He memorized the way she moved her finger as she brought herself pleasure and wrote another page to her journal, storing that too inside himself with all her beautiful words and pieces of poetry.

It was colored with the secret hues of her body and the private sounds bursting from her lips.

It was another part of her he never expected to receive, and he would cherish it just as he did with every other precious part of this woman.

Her soft skin was glistening, and Sam was sweating too, desperate with need and a hundred other feelings he’d never had before.

She gasped. “I’m so close, Sam,” she said.

“It won’t take long, and then…oh,” she moaned.

Her head went back as her movements quickened, and less than a minute later, she tensed, crying out, shuddering as Sam held himself as still as possible and willed himself not to join her.

He was a master at denying himself, yet he’d never come closer to failing.

Her head fell forward, and for a moment, she simply breathed before raising her face to his and kissing him. This kiss was as slow as the one in the forest but even deeper, and again his hips began to circle, to reach. Every inch of him was electrified, including his mind, his heart.

“Are you okay?” she asked when they came up for air.

“No,” he said honestly, and despite the answer, whatever was on his face made her smile.

“Ready?” she asked, and he sensed she was asking herself as much as him.

“Yes,” he answered. No. This might leave the worst scar of all. Yet he’d beg her if she stopped.

She took him in her hand and brought the head of him to her opening, meeting his eyes as she began lowering herself.

Oh, dear God. Oh. He never imagined pleasure like this.

Never. She was so hot and soft and wet, and his body shuddered yet again at the way her body enveloped the tip of him.

She adjusted herself just a little, blinking, focusing as she lowered herself just a bit more.

She was right, he was large, and she was not, and though he shook and struggled not to plunge up into her, he was worried he’d lose the battle.

“Autumn,” he panted, and whatever she heard in his voice made her press down harder, a small cry falling from her lips until he was all the way in.

Oh God oh God oh God.

She released a breath, and he felt her body relax. Her lips tipped in a smile as she closed her eyes and began to move. “Mmm,” she moaned. “God, you feel good. We don’t seem to fit, but we do, don’t we, Sam? Perfectly.”

“Autumn,” he said again. It was the only word he was capable of. The only word ever created. The only one that mattered in all the world.

“Hold on, just a minute,” she said. “I want to feel you. I want to…oh.” She moved more quickly, back, forth, back, forth, until he couldn’t hold out any longer.

He lifted his hips, and with one upward plunge, he came with a roar, spilling into her, the pleasure so dizzyingly powerful, he swore he lost consciousness for a minute.

The bliss exploded and then sizzled through his veins, like the dying sparkles of those fireworks, dripping and cascading its last glittery light into every corner of his broken body.

Only in that moment, he didn’t feel broken.

He didn’t feel scarred or ruined.

He felt alive. He felt powerful, but not in any way he’d ever experienced power before. He wasn’t even sure that was the right word, but he didn’t have another.

Her hair was tickling his shoulder, the slight weight of her body covering his own.

He wanted to hold her. He wanted to run his hands along her spine, to feel each bump and curve of her perfect creation.

But he was still shaking, still coming down from the wild cascade of feelings and emotions, and he still didn’t quite trust himself.

Autumn sighed, holding him instead but gently, as though she knew he couldn’t take much more than that.

He’d just experienced sensory overload on a scale he never had before.

And though it’d been the most amazing experience of his life, he needed to process, to come down off the high, to relive it again and again, but only in his mind.

For now.

The pleasure he’d just experienced had rearranged him.

Maybe she’d be willing to do this again. But even if she wasn’t, he could live in the memory of this moment for the remainder of his days, even if only a handful existed.

Autumn remained still, seeming to know he needed it. Her. His angel. Her breath ghosted over his skin as she whispered, “I made a boy of moonlight.” She paused, kissing his cheek lightly, so lightly. “And he turned me into the burning sun.”