Chapter 19 Danni
DANNI
The monster’s request hung in the air between us. When his big hand stroked over my arm again—a possessive slide of fur and heat—I didn’t pull away—I melted into it. His touch was slow and warm and soft as velvet—a deliberate, gentle caress that promised me everything I’d ever craved.
I turned to face him in the darkness, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Even though I couldn’t see his face clearly—except for those glowing, golden eyes—I could feel his need humming in the air between us like static.
It was a palpable, crackling energy that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up.
My breath caught in my throat, and I knew I wanted him as badly as he wanted me.
“You…you can touch me,” I whispered. My voice sounded breathless in my own ears. But I meant it with every fiber of my being. I wanted to feel those big, warm hands on me—all over my body. I couldn’t deny it, even to myself.
The monster’s answering rumble of pleasure vibrated through the mattress, a deep, predatory sound that resonated in the very core of me.
“Thank you, little witch,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I promise I will only give you pleasure. Only what you want. Only what you ask for.”
His hand moved to cup my breast gently through the thin silk of my nightgown, his palm hot even through the fabric. The silk had shifted during the night, offering him easy access, and he made a low, guttural sound of pure, male satisfaction.
“So soft… so full and heavy in my hand. Gods, I’ve dreamed of this, of the feel of you.” He shifted on the bed. “Let me see you. I need to see the flesh I’ve been fantasizing about.”
Apparently he could see in the dark much better than I could.
For a second, fear prickled at the back of my neck, cold and unwelcome.
I was no blushing twenty-something anymore.
I had soft places—rounded curves—the silvered maps of stretch marks, and the lines life had etched around my eyes and at the corners of my mouth.
But the devastating heat of his touch…the absolute, unwavering worship in his voice kept me from saying no to his request.
I wanted to believe he would still want me even if he saw me naked.
I needed to believe it.
I sat up slightly and slid the straps of my nightgown off my shoulders, the movement feeling both terrifying and exhilarating. The silk pooled around my waist, and I lay back, baring myself to him in the dark, offering my body in mute acceptance of his desire.
“I’m afraid I’m not exactly a pretty young thing anymore,” I said, my voice wavering, betraying my vulnerability. “Probably not what you wanted.”
He inhaled deeply, a long, slow breath of air as though he were drinking me in—committing my scent to memory.
“You are a feast for my senses,” he said, his voice coming out in a low, hoarse growl. “Every curve, every mark, is a story I want to learn with my fingers and tongue. You’re so fucking beautiful to me, little witch.”
I saw the faint, predatory glow of his golden eyes in the dark as he stared down at me, devouring me with his gaze.
Then his hand moved again, slow and deliberate, stroking down from my collarbone, over the curve of my breast, his thick, furred fingers brushing so lightly across my peak in a gesture of pure desire.
I gasped, my back arching off the mattress. Oh God, that felt good.
My nipple tightened instantly beneath his touch, stiffening into a hard, aching point, my body arching desperately into his palm, seeking more pressure…more friction…more of him.
He leaned close, his rumbling voice a vibration I could feel like a physical caress against my skin.
“Your body knows me—it knows what I can do to it, doesn’t it, my little witch? Your pretty breasts are begging for my touch.”
I couldn’t answer. I was too caught up in the way his velvet-furred hand teased over me, circling my nipple with agonizing slowness, then pinching and rolling the tight bud between his fingers until a soft whimper tore from my throat.
Every deliberate brush of his touch sent electric sparks of sensation coursing straight to my pussy.
I could feel tension coiling inside me like a spring that someone was winding tight.
My thighs pressed together instinctively, a futile attempt to quell the slippery heat that bloomed between them, drenching my own skin.
God, what was wrong with me? I hadn’t felt this raw—this desperate—in years.
Not since before Craig had gotten sick. Even then, it had never been like this.
Our sex life had been good, but never great.
I’d never felt this all-consuming, primal need before.
The monster made me feel wanted—seen. Worshipped and desired. No human man had ever made me feel half so much. Maybe because he was my own private monster, called by the power inside me. If there really was power inside me.
His big, warm hand continued its slow, torturous descent, brushing over the soft curve of my belly, his fingers leaving trails of fire, pausing just at the V between my thighs, hovering right over the deepest part of my need.
I tensed, my entire body going still. Should I let him touch me there, too?
“Um…”
He stilled, not going further.
“Can I touch you here, little witch?” he asked softly, his voice a dark promise in my ear. “Will you spread your thighs for me? Will you open your sweet little pussy and let me feel how much you want my touch?”
For a heartbeat, I hesitated, the last vestiges of my inhibition screaming a warning.
But I didn’t want to say no. My body was a live wire, begging for more. I needed it—needed him—with a desperation I had never felt before.
Wordlessly, I let my knees fall apart, opening myself to my monster completely—a silent, shameless surrender.
His breath left him in a low, hungry growl.
“Thank you, little witch,” he rumbled. “So beautiful…gods, look at you, all spread out for me. Let me see how wet you are.”
His fingers began to stroke along the outer lips of my slit—a maddening, feather-light, teasing sensation that made me moan. Then they slipped inside me, stroking my inner pussy but deliberately avoiding the aching, throbbing center of my need.
My breath hitched, a sob of pure frustration catching in my throat.
“Please…” I begged softly, unable to help myself.
“Can I open you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a hungry growl. “Can I push my thick fingers inside this tight, greedy little pussy? I need to feel how wet you are for me. I need to feel your cunt milking my fingers.”
His hot, dirty words did something to me. Craig had never been any good at dirty talk—he just grunted when we were making love. But my monster seemed to know just what to say to make me even hotter.
“Yes!” I moaned, my hips bucking off the bed, my control shattering. “Please, touch me! Stop teasing—just fuck me with your fingers!”
I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, but my monster didn’t seem upset.
A dark, approving growl was my answer.
“That’s good, little witch—I will finger-fuck you. But first I want to give you pleasure.”
And then a single, broad fingertip found my clit and began circling it slowly…deliberately.
It was like being caressed with wet velvet. I cried out, my hips bucking wildly at the bolt of pure, undiluted pleasure that seared through me at his gentle touch.
“So wet,” he growled softly in my ear. “Your soft little slit is dripping for me, little witch—coating my fingers. Gods, I want to bury my face between your legs and taste this honey. I want to lick you clean.”
“You…you want to lick me?” I felt a knot of unease form in my belly. Craig and I hadn’t been much into oral. Or at least, he hadn’t been. “I…I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Relax—just let me touch you then,” my monster growled softly. “Don’t get upset, little witch. Didn’t I tell you I won’t do anything you don’t want?”
He had said something like that. I tried to relax but my thighs trembled as he continued to circle and stroke my sensitive little button. He seemed to know my body better than I did—the pressure he used was perfect…maddening.
And then, just as I was sure I was about to come, he slid lower and pressed a single, thick finger inside me.
I gasped, my eyes rolling back.
He was huge—so thick, and this was just his finger! The stretch was exquisite— just shy of too much—and I felt impossibly, wonderfully full with just that one invading digit.
“You’re gripping me so tight, little witch,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Look at you, taking me so deep… your pretty little cunt is sucking me in. Such a good, greedy girl for me.”
He began to move the finger in a slow, fucking motion, the pull of his furred skin against my inner walls sending shudders through my entire body. Then he added a second finger, stretching me further, filling me completely.
“Oh…oh!” A broken gasp was torn from my lips. “Oh, my God!”
“Easy, little witch. You can take it—just relax,” he rumbled.
His thumb found my clit again, and he began to stroke it in a relentless, circular rhythm that matched the deep, penetrating thrusts of his fingers.
I was unraveling—coming apart at the seams. The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in my belly, a supernova building in my core.
My breath was coming in ragged, broken pants—my hands fisting in the sheets until the fabric threatened to tear.
I hadn’t come in over three years and it was almost like my body was relearning how to do it.
“So perfect,” the monster growled, his voice dropping to a possessive note. “So sweet and tight. You were made for this. Made to take me deep inside you This little pussy was made for me.”
His dirty words…his skillful touch…the inferno of need blazing through me… it was too much—too, too much.
Suddenly the spring that had been winding tight in my belly snapped and I felt the strongest orgasm of my life rush over me.
“Oh…oh, God!” I gasped.
My back arched violently off the bed, a moan of pure need pouring from my throat as the orgasm exploded inside me—a convulsing, mind-blanking wave of pure ecstasy that nearly drowned me.
My hips bucked wildly against his big hand, my inner walls clenching and spasming around his buried fingers, milking them as the pleasure wracked my body.
“Shadow!” The name burst from my lips like a long-forgotten prayer. “God, Shadow—yes…yes!”
My monster held me close and guided me through the overwhelming pleasure, his fingers still buried deep inside, still rubbing to prolong the shocks as my body convulsed around him.
“That’s right, little witch,” he growled softly in my ear as he kept teasing my aching clit. “Come for me…come nice and hard while I finger-fuck this sweet little pussy. Gods, you’re beautiful when you come!”
The pleasure seemed to last forever. When I finally collapsed back into his arms, I was panting, drenched in sweat—utterly and completely dazed. I had never come this hard before—never in my life. My heart felt like it might beat its way right out of my chest.
I turned my head, and though I still couldn’t see Shadow clearly in the dark, I felt the heat of his gaze on me, heavy and satisfied.
“My good little witch,” he rumbled and kissed me. “Such a good girl to come so hard for me.”
I was still panting and couldn’t say anything. But I knew how I felt.
I had never felt more thoroughly claimed and I knew wanted to keep him in my life.