Chapter 5
Five
Fawn’s mind raced.
What was she doing, kissing this monster?
Surely, she could buy herself a day or two before giving in to his urges.
He had taken her rebuttal nicely enough last night.
But as soon as she had seen that long, dexterous tongue, something had ignited inside her.
Specifically, between her legs. It was appalling, and yet she couldn’t stop it.
Zax’s lips were surprisingly gentle against hers. At first, they were still, waiting for her guidance. Then, as the kiss deepened, he grew more confident, pushing that dexterous tongue inside her own.
Gods, that tongue. Fawn heard herself moan as he licked inside her mouth, pushing his tongue deeper than she would ever allow.
It should have been disgusting. Something to tolerate, as she had tolerated Renly’s lustful pawing. But for some reason, the slick movements made her want more.
She squeezed his broken horn. It made his breath hitch, and Fawn started to touch more of him, shocked at herself. She ran her finger down the skull mask, feeling its chips and grooves. She touched the scars on his bare shoulders, tracing them down his back.
Zax gripped her face, those sharp claws pricking into her freckled cheeks. Then he drew back, nuzzling his skull mask against her shoulder.
“You smell so good,” he groaned. “I cannot wait to taste you.”
“You…” Fawn licked her lips, which were wet with his spit. “You’re already tasting me.”
“I want more,” he said. He ran that long tongue over her neck, making her gasp. “Can I?”
He pushed up her dress again, his knuckles grazing the damp patch on her underclothes.
Fawn shivered.
She was not a lustful woman. At least, not with her late husband. Sex was something to be tolerated, while pleasure was found in the early hours of the morning with her own hand between her legs, biting her lip to keep quiet as Renly snored beside her.
But there was something about Zax. Even if he was a monster, even if she was still going to get her vengeance before she escaped…
he genuinely seemed to want her to feel good.
And if this would make him happy, make him docile, make him more likely to do her favors that could one day help her get back home, why shouldn’t she let him do this to her?
If he were that focused on her pleasure, maybe she would enjoy it.
She was certainly enjoying his kisses. More than she had ever enjoyed it with Renly, who treated kissing as an inconvenient appetizer before he could reach the main course.
Zax kept interrupting his own journey to her cunt to come back up and kiss her, his skull mask denting her freckled cheek whenever he pressed too hard.
“You’re good at that,” Fawn breathed once he pulled away again.
It was true. He was perhaps a little too enthusiastic, but it was oddly endearing after years of Renly’s bored pecks. Then Fawn reminded herself that this was a Skullstalker who gleefully murdered Renly, and all endearment vanished from her mind. She was only doing this to appease him. Right?
Zax grunted in response, the noise turning into a hungry growl as he knelt once more between her legs. He pressed his mouth to her thigh next, and she shivered again as those dangerous fangs skimmed her skin.
“You smell good,” he repeated, slurring into her heated skin. He moved up, and his elbow jostled her injured leg.
She cried out in pain. Zax jolted up, his purple eye glowing wide in alarm.
“Sorry,” he said. “I will not do it again. Let me?”
He nudged his skull mask into her knee. Fawn thought about telling him that she changed her mind, that she was still too injured… but he was panting, already so affected by her. And his mouth was open, his tongue so pink and hungry.
Fawn nodded. Zax let out a relieved huff and bent down, pressing his forehead into her thigh for some bizarre yet strangely touching reason before pulling back to kiss her leg.
It was the sort of thing a lover would do, Fawn realized with a sad pang.
True lovers who had known each other for a long time and still had passion for each other. Fawn wouldn’t know what that was like.
Zax pulled her underclothes down her legs, careful over her injured ankle. Then he settled back between her legs and groaned, his hips twitching.
Fawn mistakenly looked down at his loincloth. It was mostly hidden by his bulk as he crouched over, but from this angle, she could see it.
Well. See them.
Two huge bulges stacked on top of each other. One above, one below. They were so big they sparked a fissure of fear through her core.
Zax placed a large hand on her stomach, holding her down.
A shocking desire joined the fear as she imagined Zax chasing her down as he had done to her husband.
Zax pinning her down with these huge hands, ripping off her dress and taking himself—both of them—out of his loincloth.
It was terrifying and hot and lovely, and Fawn didn’t understand why it made her clit throb so hard.
Zax pulled back again. “You smell scared.”
“I smell scared?” Fawn echoed, suddenly remembering his words last night. He could smell her pain.
Zax nodded.
Great, Fawn thought. He can smell my emotions. She would need to hold herself back even more than usual. But not too cautious, if he didn’t suspect she was planning to get her revenge and run away as soon as she was healed.
“You do not need to be scared,” Zax soothed. “I will never hurt you. What do you like?”
Fawn looked at him questioningly. “Like?”
He licked her thigh, dangerously close to her hole.
Fawn shuddered. Half longing, half fearful excitement. “I… don’t know. My husband tried this once, but neither of us liked it very much.”
“Oh.” Zax looked deeply baffled by this. “Is it not something mortals do? My brothers say they do it with their mates all the time.”
“No, they do it,” Fawn said. “Just… not me, I suppose.”
Zax watched her for a moment. Then he nodded decidedly.
“Then I will simply do as my brothers told me,” he announced. “Pull my horn if you want me to stop.”
With that, he gripped her good leg, pushed it aside, and ran his tongue up her folds.
Fawn jerked. She had been expecting him to just… shove it in, as Renly had done in their first and only attempt to do this. But Zax took his time teasing her, running that soft, flexible tongue-tip up and down her entrance until she was unconsciously canting her hips for him to push inside.
Then he ran his tongue over her clit, and she had to smother a gasp.
Despite her half-hearted attempts to teach him, Renly had never been able to find her clit except for a few short-lived accidents that never lasted long enough to satisfy her. Zax circled her clit like his brothers had drawn him diagrams.
I’ll have to thank them, Fawn thought, dazed. The thought made her laugh. She was thinking about thanking a bunch of Skullstalkers for teaching their brother, who kidnapped her to be his bride, how to pleasure her. Ridiculous.
Then Zax sealed his lips around her clit, and all ridiculousness fled her mind and was replaced by boundless pleasure.
He sucked so softly and gently that she could almost ignore the fangs that brushed her clit whenever he pressed deeper.
The light pressure was so unbearably good that Fawn tensed with it, pain racing up her ankle as she clenched her leg.
Zax pulled back again, his tail arching in concern. “Fawn? Is it hurting?”
“No,” Fawn gasped. “Not hurting. It was just my leg.”
She squeezed his broken horn, watching his glowing eye flicker with shocked satisfaction. She rubbed the broken horn tip experimentally, and his glowing eye slammed shut.
He groaned, grinding his hips against nothing as he dove down again. He returned his attention to her folds, his tongue running up and down hungrily before finally pressing inside.
Fast, shallow thrusts got deeper and deeper as Fawn opened gradually around him. Then, impossibly, that flexible tongue curled up, rubbing a spot that Fawn had to discover on her own late-night explorations.
“Shit,” Fawn gasped. She bit her lip harder, trying to make herself quiet. Which had never been an issue during sex until now. Something completely unexpected was happening: she was nearing release.
Zax was growling. Low, animal growls that for some reason only made Fawn wetter. She had never been desired like this before—like her arousal was feeding his own. Like he wanted to make her come more than he wanted his own release.
What am I doing? she chanted inside her head as she coiled closer and closer to that incredible peak that until now, she could only reach by herself. What am I DOING? He’s a monster!
But the fact that Zax was a literal monster—and that he’d kidnapped her to be his wife, and of course, that he’d eaten her husband—fell silent as she came, Zax’s warm, wonderful tongue pushing new waves of pleasure through her rigid body.
Despite her best efforts, she didn’t hold her injured leg completely still. Her sprained ankle twinged, and Fawn hissed as the pleasure subsided.
Zax rumbled against her hole and pulled back to nuzzle her wet thigh. “You smell like pain again.”
“It’s just my ankle,” she panted. “It’s fine.”
Zax moved like he was going to kiss her hurt ankle and then wisely thought better of it. He pushed himself up and loomed over her body, his chin smeared with her juices.
“So, it worked?” Zax asked, his purple eye glowing brighter than ever. “I made you feel good?”
Fawn laughed disbelievingly.
“Yes,” she said, unable to hide her surprise. “You made me feel very good.”
Zax groaned, a hint of growl seeping into the sound. He rubbed himself over his loincloth, and Fawn watched both bulges with renewed focus.
She might not be able to give him everything, but she could give him something. She had to. The man’s pleasure was always more important than her own.
But first, she had to see what she was working with.
She gestured at his loincloth, still not prepared to reach for it. “Can I see?”