SOLANTUS
Iwatch her sleep, this small human who has become my world. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, her skin glowing in the amber light that filters through our den’s crystal windows. My tail curls possessively around her feet, maintaining contact even in slumber.
One week since our bonding, and still I marvel at her—the softness of her skin against my scales, the heat she radiates that is cooler than mine yet perfect in its own way.
She belonged to me before she even knew I existed.
I knew it the moment I scented her through the Sanctuary database, a perfect chemical signature that called to something primal within me.
The silk sheets pool around her waist, leaving her upper body bare to my gaze.
I memorize every curve, every mark that makes her uniquely Tamsin.
Her breasts rise with each breath, the brown tips hardening slightly in the cool morning air.
My temperature rises involuntarily in response, the den growing warmer as my body reacts to the sight of my mate.
She was never meant to be assigned randomly.
I requested her specifically, something few know outside the highest levels of the registry.
Three cycles ago, during a diplomatic mission to the eastern Sanctuary, I caught her scent on the wind—a fleeting impression that stopped me mid-stride.
My escort thought I’d detected a threat, the way my crest flared and my nostrils widened.
But it was her—Tamsin—walking on the other side of the compound wall, unaware of how her pheromones had just rewired my entire existence.
I tracked her for days, learning her routine, her name, her status. Unmarried. Unbonded. A rare fertile female living within Sanctuary walls. When I returned to Fireland, I submitted my formal request to the Matchmaking Protocol, using my position as regional guardian to expedite the process.
The compatibility tests only confirmed what I already knew.
Our biological markers aligned perfectly—her body temperature complementing my heat, her genetic structure compatible with mine despite our different species.
The magical resonance test showed a harmony I’ve never witnessed in my years overseeing bondings.
The soul-bond test merely formalized what fate had already decided.
She stirs now, stretching languidly beneath the silk. My tail tightens reflexively around her ankle, unwilling to break contact even for a moment. Her eyes flutter open, finding mine immediately as though drawn by magnetic force.
“How long have you been watching me?” she asks, voice husky with sleep.
“Since the first sun rose,” I admit, seeing no reason to hide my fascination.
A smile curves her lips. “Creepy,” she teases, but her scent tells a different story—notes of arousal already perfuming the air between us.
I move closer, my larger body creating a shadow over hers. “You are a gift I will never take for granted,” I tell her, tracing one claw delicately along her collarbone. “Every morning I wake to find you here seems impossible.”
Her pulse quickens beneath my touch. I can see it fluttering at the hollow of her throat, can smell the rush of blood beneath her thin human skin.
“May I have you?” I ask, the formal request of my people. Even bonded, consent is sacred.
Her answer is to reach for me, fingers finding the sensitive edges of my crest. “Yes,” she breathes. “Always yes.”
I growl with pleasure, lowering my mouth to hers. The kiss begins gently—I am always conscious of my size, my strength, the sharpness of my teeth against her soft lips. But Tamsin is no fragile thing. She opens to me, her tongue meeting mine, demanding more.
I oblige, deepening the kiss as my hands explore her body.
Her skin is like silk beneath my rough palms, warming wherever I touch.
This is the miracle of our physiology—her body responds to mine by generating more heat, while mine moderates to prevent burning her.
A perfect exchange, a balance written into our very cells.
My mouth leaves hers to trace a path down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin.
She arches beneath me, a soft moan escaping when I reach the sensitive juncture of neck and shoulder.
I linger there, sucking gently, marking her in ways that will fade by evening—a temporary claim I will renew each day until the permanent bonding marks appear.
“Solantus,” she gasps as my hand cups her breast, thumb circling the hardened peak. The sound of my name on her lips sends heat surging through me, my core temperature rising another degree.
I take her nipple into my mouth, careful to shield her from my sharper teeth. The sensation draws another moan from her, louder this time. Her hands clutch at my shoulders, nails digging into scales that give only slightly under the pressure.
“More,” she demands, hips rising to press against mine.
I slide lower, tasting my way down her body. The scent of her arousal grows stronger, a heady perfume that makes my head swim. When I reach the apex of her thighs, I pause, looking up the length of her body to meet her eyes.
“You were made for me,” I tell her, my voice rougher than intended. “From the first moment, I knew.”
She spreads her legs wider in silent invitation.
I accept, burying my face in her heat. My tongue, longer and more flexible than a human male’s, explores her folds with deliberate precision.
I’ve learned her body this past week, mapped every spot that makes her cry out, memorized the taste of her pleasure.
She’s wet already, her arousal coating my tongue as I delve deeper. The flavor is addictive—sweet and tangy and uniquely Tamsin. I focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex, circling and flicking until her thighs begin to tremble.
“Please,” she begs, hands now fisted in the silk sheets. “I need you inside me.”
I rise above her, positioning myself between her spread thighs.
My cock strains against my lower plates, fully emerged and throbbing with need.
The physiological changes that began with our bonding continue—I’m larger than before, the ridges more pronounced, the sensitive tip more flared.
Eventually, the knot will develop, but for now, this is enough to claim her completely.
I press forward, watching her face as I enter her.
The tight heat of her body grips me like a fist, squeezing with exquisite pressure as I sink deeper.
Her inner walls stretch to accommodate me, a perfect fit despite our differences.
This is what the compatibility tests saw—our bodies designed to join as one.
“So tight,” I growl, fighting for control as I seat myself fully within her. “So hot.”
And she is hot—her internal temperature rises to meet mine, her human body adapting to accommodate a mate whose natural state would burn most of her kind. The heat exchange between us creates a feedback loop of pleasure, each of us growing hotter in response to the other.
I begin to move, establishing a rhythm that starts slow and deep. Each thrust draws a gasp from her lips, her body arching to take me deeper still. Her hands roam my chest, tracing the patterns of my scales, finding the sensitive spots where scale meets skin.
“You feel so good,” she pants, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “So deep.”
I increase my pace, driven by her words, by the sight of her beneath me. My tail wraps around her thigh, providing an anchor as I thrust harder. The den fills with the sounds of our coupling—her moans, my growls, the wet slide of our bodies joining.
“Mine,” I rumble, the word torn from somewhere primal within me. “Say it.”
“Yours,” she gasps as I hit a spot deep inside that makes her walls clench around me. “I’m yours, Solantus.”
I feel her approaching climax—the fluttering of her inner walls, the change in her scent, the tension in her thighs. Reaching between us, I find the sensitive bud that will push her over the edge, circling it with my thumb as I continue to thrust.
The effect is immediate. She cries out my name, her back arching off the bed as her orgasm crashes through her. Her cunt grips me in rhythmic pulses, milking my cock with perfect pressure. The sight of her, lost in pleasure I’ve given her, is almost enough to trigger my own release.
Almost.
Instead, I slow my movements, letting her ride out the waves of her climax. When she collapses back against the silk, eyes dazed and cheeks flushed, I carefully withdraw.
“Turn over,” I command softly.
She complies without hesitation, rolling onto her stomach and then rising to her hands and knees.
This position—the submission of it, the trust—satisfies something ancient in my species.
I position myself behind her, one hand gripping her hip while the other gathers her wrists, pinning them gently above her head.
I enter her again in one smooth thrust, drawing a startled moan from her lips. From this angle, I can go deeper, reach places inside her that make her tremble. My free hand snakes around to find her sensitive bud, still swollen from her first orgasm.
“Again,” I growl into her ear, my chest pressed against her back. “Give me another.”
I set a punishing pace, my hips slapping against her as I drive into her welcoming heat. My fingers work her clit in tight circles, matching the rhythm of my thrusts. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, her body tightening around me once more.
“I can’t,” she gasps. “It’s too much.”
“You can,” I insist, knowing her body better than she does in this moment. “You were made for this. Made for me.”
Her second orgasm hits harder than the first, a keening cry tearing from her throat as her body convulses around me. This time, I don’t stop, fucking her through it, prolonging the pleasure until she’s shaking beneath me.
The pressure builds at the base of my spine, my release imminent.
I increase my pace to an almost frantic rhythm, chasing the edge of my own pleasure.
When it comes, it’s like an inferno erupting inside me.
My temperature spikes as I drive deep one final time, holding her against me as my seed floods her womb.
The heat radiates from my body in visible waves, the air around us shimmering. Yet Tamsin doesn’t burn—her skin pinkens but absorbs the heat, our bodies locked in their perfect exchange. I pulse inside her, emptying myself completely, marking her from the inside in the most primal way.
When the last aftershocks subside, I carefully lower us both to the silk sheets, keeping her tucked against me, my cock still buried inside her. I nuzzle the back of her neck, inhaling our combined scents.
“When the next moon rises,” I murmur against her skin, “you will enter your first heat cycle.” It’s not a question but a certainty. Our bonding has already begun altering her physiology, preparing her body for what comes next. “And I will knot you, just as I’ve always envisioned.”
She turns her head, meeting my gaze over her shoulder. “Is that a promise?” she asks, a smile playing at her lips despite her exhaustion.
I tighten my hold on her, my tail coiling possessively around her leg. “It is written in our stars,” I tell her. “You have always run toward the heat. You were always mine.”
She sighs contentedly, settling more firmly against me. “Then I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
As she drifts back to sleep, still joined with me, I watch the twin suns climb higher in the Fireland sky. She doesn’t know yet that I’ve seen our future in the sacred flames—the children we will have, the life we will build, the legacy we will leave. But there is time for all of that.
For now, I am content to hold what was always meant to be mine.
Thank you for reading Hitched to the Hellhound. The next book in The Monster Matrimony Files is Claimed by the Kraken Groom, coming soon.