Six
DESMOND
My mate is here.
In my house.
In my bed.
And I am seconds from marking her in all the ways I can—with my bite, with blood, saliva, and cum—claiming her as mine.
For three hundred years, I dreamed of this moment.
Not the physical act.
Not the desire.
Though desire burns inside me with frightening intensity.
No.
I dreamed of being complete.
Of finding my one true and fated soulmate in all the multiverse.
Of feeling again.
Of hearing laughter in these empty halls.
Of having someone to treasure, to call my own.
For three hundred years, I dreamed of home.
And somehow, impossibly, home arrived on a New Jersey train wearing blue scrubs and showing more bravery and kindness than anyone I’d ever met.
My Josie.
My sweet Myrrin.
She is nervous.
I can feel it through our already forming matebond.
Not fear of me.
Thank the gods for that.
Fear of hope.
Fear that she might wake up and discover this was all a dream.
Fates help me, I share that fear.
Because if someone took her from me now, I would unravel.
My powers are stronger than they've been in centuries, but my heart?
My heart has become utterly defenseless.
I press into her and hiss as her tight sheath clenches all around me.
Fuck.
She’s wet and hot—so good—but I am big and I don’t want to hurt her.
I lick her neck, sucking on that space just below her ear, and run my hands over her soft flesh, tweaking her nipples and petting her thighs as I go.
I don’t want to cause her any discomfort—in fact, everything in me recoils at the mere idea of inflicting harm on my sweet Myrrin.
I need her ready.
“Easy, Mate. Relax,” I murmur, kissing and sucking on her breasts now, moving my fingers between her thighs where we’re joined and finding her slick folds.
I rub circles on her tightened nubbin, grinning around her nipple as she moans and tugs on my hair.
Oh, fuck, she feels so good.
Her pussy is clenching all around me.
Squeezing and massaging my shaft, and it’s like I feel it everywhere.
I start to move, shallow thrusts, and Josie moans and tightens her hold on my hair.
She moves her hands higher—and oh, fuck—she has my horns now.
Pleasure the likes of which I’ve never felt spirals through me, and I start to rut into her in earnest.
“Oh, oh, Desmond!”
Hearing her scream my name is more than I can take.
Not because of lust.
Because she is saying my name with joy.
With pleasure.
With affection.
For centuries, my name meant monster.
Exile.
Curse.
Failure.
But on Josie's lips?
My name becomes something sacred.
I rear up, spreading her legs wider so I can see where we’re joined—and it’s so perfect. So beautiful.
“Fuck, Myrrin, you take me so good. Look how well we fit,” I praise her as I slide my thick cock in and out, fucking into her heavenly body with abandon.
“Oh God, I’m gonna!”
Her pleasure crashes through our bond.
And I nearly lose my mind.
Because this incredible woman—this overworked nurse, with too much compassion and not enough rest—trusted me.
Believed in me.
Chose me.
Accepted me.
She doesn't see a Demon.
She sees Desmond.
And for the first time since my exile began, I realize something.
I was never cursed when I was sent here.
I was being led to her.
Every lonely night.
Every empty year.
Every aching century.
It all brought me to this moment.
To Josie.
To my mate.
And there is nowhere else, I’d rather be.