Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Anthony
Saltwick House
Anthony’s Bedroom
Everything was different in the morning light.
Nina smiled with fondness at him. “Good morning,” she said, her voice soft.
“Indeed.” He brushed back hair from her forehead. “The morning is merely good. We could make it splendid.”
“What do you suggest?”
He sat upright and placed several pillows behind his back as he leaned against the headboard. Satisfied, he pulled her to him. With little prompting, she climbed astride him. His cock pressed at her entrance.
He stroked her soft belly and her powerful thighs. She had generously curved hips, ideal for grabbing, and her breasts swung heavy, perfectly shaped for his hands. He rolled a nipple between his thumb and index finger. When she sighed, he licked and took as much as he could into his mouth.
Her eyes fluttered closed. “I see.”
“I’m here at your service,” he said, lifting his mouth from her nipple.
She captured his mouth, kissing him deeply. “I want you.”
“You have me.”
Lifting herself, she lined his member up to her entrance and sank slowly down.
He moaned at the feel of her. Warm, enveloping, and his.
She blew out a breath and started to move, rocking her hips cautiously. “Oh, you feel?—”
Her movements were gentle and almost polite, slow and easy for a languid morning.
His teeth… they itched. They were too large for his mouth. He needed to bite something, anything.
Nina planted both hands on his chest, rocking back and forth as she took his length. She was beautiful.
An insidious thought dug into his mind. He needed to bite her. Mark her. Claim her before someone else snatched away his bonded. His anchor. His.
His mouth watered, his body knowing on an instinctual level that this was correct. Bite. Mark. Claim.
He grabbed her hips, guiding her. Pleasure coiled tight in him. He would not last much longer.
Her movement slowed as she trembled. With a gasp, she whispered, “Anthony.”
Now.
He lunged forward, teeth sinking into her shoulder.
She cried, pleasure mixed with pain and surprise. He felt her tighten around him and flutter. His member pulsed and emptied.
He held her against him, head against his chest, until her breathing returned to a slow and even pace.
She straightened and looked him in the eye.
He expected tender regard, possibly affection. What he saw was fury.
She hopped out of the bed and went directly to the vanity mirror. Holding her hair to one side, she inspected her shoulder. Bleeding had ceased, leaving behind blood-smeared skin and a raw red wound.
“Unbelievable.” She poked at the bite and flinched.
Anthony left the warm comfort of the bed and gathered the pitcher of water, bowl, and sundry supplies the maid delivered last night. “Sit on the bed. I will clean your shoulder.”
She complied, looking a bit stunned.
“This is shock. You’ll feel better with breakfast,” he said. He had seen his share of dazed or injured soldiers, still on their feet but their faculties absent.
He wet the cloth and cleaned the blood.
Hissing, the pain seemed to bring Nina back to herself. “You bit me.”
“Yes.”
“You bit me,” she repeated, sounding more like herself.
Anthony poured antiseptic over the bite and cleaned up the excess with a cloth. “It was instinct.”
“It was rude,” she snapped, batting away his hand. “And you’re doing a ham-fisted job. Let me.”
“The position is awkward.”
Glaring, she snatched the supplies and moved to the vanity. She peered into the cloudy mirror. “I’ve patched myself up with worse.”
Satisfied the bite was clean, she applied a layer of ointment. “What I don’t understand is why . You’re a well-mannered man. I’m astonished you have cannibalistic tendencies.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It is difficult to explain.”
“Try.”
“Your skin is remarkable. It tells your story.” He took a chance and ran his thumb over the burn scar on her wrist. Nina huffed but did not pull away. “Experience has left its mark on you. I wanted to leave my mark. You’re mine.”
She placed a square of clean gauze over the bite and struggled to unroll the bandage to wrap the wound.
“Allow me.” He placed the end of the bandage over the shoulder, looped it backward under her armpit, repeated that step, then moved it behind her back. The bandage went over her shoulder again and then twice around her bicep.
“That should hold,” he announced, tucking the ends neatly into the wrap.
She twisted in front of the mirror to examine his handiwork. “Thank you.”
Anthony took another risk and gathered her into his arms. “Am I forgiven?”
“I’m not a possession, Anthony.”
He took her usage of his first name as a positive sign. Her scowl, however, intensified.
“If anything, you belong to me,” she added, jabbing a finger at his chest.
“I cannot deny the truth of the matter. I belong to you. I’m your monster.”
The scowl softened and transitioned into a frown.
“My lovely Nina. So many emotions, all of them disapproving,” he said.
She snorted, as if amused.
“You’re my heart. My joy. My love. I cannot state this plainly enough.”
“But what does the monster have to say?”
He answered her with a kiss, hard and territorial. She might not be a possession, but he was thoroughly possessed.
She responded in kind, reaching up to grasp him behind the head.
He hardened and protruded from his pouch—his thoughts fumbled around his changed anatomy—and pressed against her. She glanced down and licked her lips.
“Again? Seems ambitious for a man of your advanced years,” she said. Her eyes sparkled. Though her words were teasing, they were not mean-spirited. It was affection; a twisted, barbed affection to be sure. He would not have her any other way.
“Do not taunt my monster,” he cautioned.
“Why? What consequences will I face?”
He swept her up into his arms, took a few steps, and tossed her onto the bed, the frame groaning in a threatening manner. She laughed, delighted, as he pinned her to the mattress.
She was a breathtaking combination of hard-won experience, softness, and strength.
His . From the moment she spitefully filled out paperwork simply to inconvenience him, he knew he needed her like the fish needed water. He could not exist without her.
He wedged a knee between her thighs, making a space for himself. She responded with enthusiasm, wrapping her legs around his hips.
He pressed against her entrance, sensing her heat, and buried his face against the bandage on her shoulder. He would apologize for the transgression, but he would never regret claiming her.
“Fuck me like you’re my monster,” she murmured in his ear.
He surged forward, plunging into her depths.
He did not hold back, driving into her with force, and she gave in kind.
Her hips rose to meet him, clashing and withdrawing.
Her fingers scratched at his back, finding the thin layer of overlap between his scales, and digging in.
When that failed to satisfy, she grabbed the fin between his shoulder blades and pulled.
He roared, half in surprise and half in delight, and drove harder. Nina gasped and moaned. Her breasts bounced. The bed groaned, the coils squeaking shamelessly.
This was rougher than their previous encounters. That had been exploratory, learning how to touch each other, and discovering not just the delights of her body but the changes in his. This was them. This was an argument, their bodies moving together in a furious conversation.
He loved this woman. More than he could say. More than was reasonable.
His chest tightened. Blue fingers dug into the white sheets, threatening to shred the fabric.
Heightened senses overwhelmed him. He could smell the perspiration on her skin, taste the salt.
Her heart raced. Her chest heaved with gulping breaths.
Everywhere their bodies touched, skin against scale, and the heat, spiraled upward into a thunderous shout of delight.
She trembled beneath him, clutching him to her, and she cried out as she fell over the precipice. He followed, pumping into her once, twice more, and releasing.
After, she curled next to him, heart and breath even once more.
“I apologize for the bite,” he said, holding her to his side with one arm. “It was not the act of a gentleman.”
She lifted her head enough to meet his eyes. “No, but it does meet the expectations for a monster.”
“Your monster.”
“My monster,” she agreed.