Some Kind of Monster

by Albany Walker

  Gunnar’s eyes track my movements as I get closer to him. “Hey, Kitten, don’t you just look lovely, all angry and snarly,” I coo, and slide the front of my body against his. My lips just skim the skin of his neck above his collar, so I plant a soft, open mouth kiss there.

  One of his arms wraps around my back. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes before trouble finds you.” His words are a little slurred, since his jaw is shifted to accommodate his razor-sharp teeth. “I don’t like trouble.”

  I spin and lean back against Gunnar. “Kill him if it makes you feel better, but I warn you, it’s going to be very underwhelming.” I wiggle my little pinky finger, implying that’s all it would take for my man, no, my Berserker to get rid of him.

  Torin looks over his shoulder and meets my gaze. “I’ll take care of him for the insult.” His dark brown eyes are alive for the first time this evening. I think Torin needs this way more than Gunnar does. Besides, I have a better idea to make sure Gunnar finds release.

  Chapter 14

  I tow Gunnar away from the small group that’s formed around Torin and the angry man. He doesn’t resist, but he keeps turning around to see what’s happening behind us. “Come on, didn’t I promise you a special blow job?”

  That gets his full attention. His hand tightens on mine, and he turns that intense stare to me. “Huh?”

  “You heard what I said.” I spin around and start walking backward so I can see his face. “Your dick, my mouth, interested?”

  His eyes dilate and his head moves up and down as he swallows. “There will never be a time when the answer will be anything but fuck yes.”

  “Then come on.” I turn around again, and he ends up pulling me along until we find a mostly empty hallway. There’s a woman coming out of a door, but she doesn’t notice us at first because she’s looking down at a dainty little purse clutched in her hands.

  Gunnar heads right for the door she’s exiting, mumbling, “Pardon,” as if it’s a habit while poking his head into the room. The woman gives me a saucy wink as we pass. She must know what a man on a mission looks like.

  Gunnar pushes the door open too hard, as is his custom, and it slams against the wall. I don’t even bother saying anything. I have a single second to look around as Gunnar leads me over to a small sitting area of what looks like a ladies’ bathroom. There is a small bench, which is large enough for three women to sit on, with rolled sides instead of arms, and it’s placed in front of the mirror.

  Gunnar puts one big palm on my shoulder and pushes down, and the other goes to his fly to release his pants. Without resistance, I lower myself to the floor so I’m kneeling before him. His chin is tilted all the way down, but I can still see the squareness of his jaw and width of his massive shoulders, so I know he’s still part beast.

  I stare up at him from under my lashes, and even though I’m the one at his feet, an intense feeling of power comes over me. His nostrils flare as I lean into him, allowing my breasts to brush against his legs. He’s already rock-hard when he pulls his cock out of his pants. I hum in appreciation.

  Gunnar’s hand slides up my shoulder and he grabs the back of my neck, dragging me forward to shove his dick into my mouth. I run my hands up his thighs until I can wrap one around his base and slide the other into his pants to cup his balls. He’s hot as fire, and the zipper of his pants pinches the back of my hand as he spreads his legs a little more to accommodate me, but I don’t care.

  A toilet flushes in the background, but I don’t let it stop me from taking him deep while I work my hand up and down his length. I pull back, only keeping his velvety tip in my mouth so I can use my saliva as lube as I work him over.

  Gunnar fists my long hair roughly while he trails the fingers of his other hand reverently along my jaw. The sound of a metal lock disengaging snicks sharply in the otherwise quiet room. I turn my head slightly and slit my eyes to see a woman exiting one of the stalls. Her gaze is already glued to Gunnar’s back. We didn’t surprise her. I wonder how long she stayed in the little cubical before deciding to finally come out.

  Keeping my hands moving, I pull my mouth off Gunnar with a pop. He growls and pushes himself against me again, tightening his grip on my hair. I don’t care that she knows I’m sucking his cock, but the thought of her seeing his thick shaft makes me see red.

  “Out!” I demand, then swallow Gunnar so deep that even if she were to look back all she would see would be my mouth stretched around him. She leaves without even washing her hands—nasty—only peeking over her shoulder right before the door closes.

  Gunnar doesn’t even seem to notice the entire interaction. I look up at him again. His mouth is slightly slack, and I can see his inhuman teeth. I rise up higher on my knees and squeeze his balls a little tighter while increasing how hard I’m sucking. He pants and jerks his hips forward, and his dick hits the back of my throat. The muscles there constrict on reflex, so I breathe through my nose, but my breaths are short from the way he starts fucking my face.

  If I could smile, I would, but I’m too busy making sure he’s satisfied while I try to breathe in enough air to keep going. I remove the barrier of my hand on his base, and he really loses it then. I don’t even have to suck anymore. My jaw is open as far as it can go, saliva drips down my chin, and Gunnar is in complete control of my next breath. There is nothing pretty about this. It’s raw and dirty, but oh so fucking hot. I can feel how swollen my clit is, and every time I move from left to right, the seam of my jeans gives me delicious friction.

  Within moments, he’s coming, with his hips shoved forward. I can feel the thick vein along his length pumping against my tongue as he comes down the back of my throat. I don’t even try to breathe. I know if I do, I’m going to end up with come dripping out of my nose, and that’s too messy, even for me.

  Thankfully, he pulls back quickly, and I gulp in gasps of air while swallowing. I wipe my chin with the back of my hand and extricate my other from his pants. His zipper has done a little damage. I’ve got a few angry scratches and a raw spot that’s oozing a little blood.

  Before I even have a chance to catch my breath, Gunnar slides his hands under my arms and lifts me off the floor. He takes the two steps to the bench and sits down with me straddling his lap. I lean my body close to his, but he stops me by slipping his hand between us and cupping my pussy, his palm putting pressure right over my clit.

  Our foreheads connect and I look down. “If I knew I could get you out of here without anyone seeing, I would slice” —he runs his thumb up the center seam of my pants to the bottom of the zipper— “these open and fuck you.”

  Gunnar can do wonderfully horrible things with a knife. Not only did I see his skills that night at Vanessa’s, I’ve watched him practice with them often enough at home. The thought of him with a razor-sharp blade so close to my skin, trusting he would never hurt me, has me damn near pleading for him to do it. So what if I walk out with crotchless jeans? I’m kind of okay with that. I wrap one arm around his neck and place my lips near his ear. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re burning up.” He skims his hand up and pulls my button to the side, opening my jeans, before dragging the short zipper down. I hold my breath when his fingers touch my skin. I scoot my body closer to his. Gunnar looks over my shoulder. “Let me see if I can lock the door.” He pushes me off him, and I’m left standing on wobbly legs.

  “You didn’t care about a lock a few minutes ago,” I challenge.

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t naked then. Fuck!”

  “No lock?”

  “Who the hell doesn’t put a lock on a bathroom door?” He turns around with a scowl. I saunter over, pushing my pants down my hips as I go. “What are you doing?” His eyes are locked on my exposed skin.

  “I’m sure we can find a way to make sure that door stays closed, Kitten.”

  He bites his bottom lip, indecision warring on his face. “I could hold it closed,” he offers. I push my jeans down unt
il I encounter my boots. I’m not taking them off, I refuse to be barefoot in what’s essentially a public bathroom. I must look pretty silly shuffling the rest of the way over with my pants around my ankles, but Gunnar watches me like I’m Aphro-fucking-dite.

  “No one has tried to come in yet,” I cajole, spinning so my ass is before him. I bend over and press it right up against him.

  “Dami,” he growls, but he grabs my hips and pulls me even tighter against his body. I go up on my toes—as much as I can in the boots—feeling the rough fabric of his pants against the back of my thighs. Reaching between our bodies, he slides his fingers up and down my pussy. I push into his touch, wanting him inside me. I don’t even care if it’s just his fingers at this point.

  I hear and feel a thud against the door when Gunnar jerks a little, followed by a feminine, “Ooh.”

  “Fuck off!” Gunnar barks loudly. His scarred, callused hand slides up my back, and he wraps his long fingers over my shoulder before tugging me up. “Elbows back,” he whispers near my ear. I do as I’m told, and he tucks his arm between my inner elbow and back, reaching across until he can grab my other arm near my bicep. My spine arches in the slightly uncomfortable hold.

  That’s when I feel Gunnar lining himself up to slide inside me. I wiggle a bit, eager for his cock. His fingers pinch my arm harder. “Be still.”

  With one quick thrust of his hips, he’s inside me. My inner muscles quiver, and I let out a low groan. With my pants around my ankles and him holding my arms, I feel restrained. I relax he muscles in my arms and legs, fully giving myself over to Gunnar.

  This ability to let myself go, to trust him and the others, is still rather new to me, but welcome all the same. The fact that he’s rough and takes what he wants makes it even hotter. The toes of my boots barely touch the ground after he slams his hips against my ass a few times. He spins quickly, and the side of my face ends up against the center of the door. Good thing I don’t need to worry about germs.

  The new position gives his hips and legs more movement, so I end up cradled in the curve of his body, relieving some of the pressure on my shoulders.

  Our combined breathing is loud as it echoes off the tile walls. Before long, I can feel my orgasm building. It starts low in my stomach and makes me feel like I can’t catch my breath, or like I need to hold my breath, I can’t decide. Gunnar leans forward and licks the side of my face from just under my jaw to my cheek. That primal act of lust pushes me over the edge, and I come hard, a keening noise escaping my throat.

  “Oh, fuck.” Gunnar’s grip on my arms loosens, and they fall to my sides. I’m too tired to even push myself away from the door. “S-Sorry, sweetheart,” he rasps against the back of my head when he stops sliding in and out of me after riding us both through our orgasms.

  Eventually, he lowers me so my boots touch the ground. There’s a good possibility the door is the only thing holding me up.

  “It’s okay, you can explain to Grim why I have road rash on my cheek,” I tease. Quicker than I expected, he grabs my shoulder and spins me. I nearly topple over because my jeans are still around my ankles. He catches me easily before examining my face.

  “Shit,” he curses, and brushes this thumb along my cheekbone.

  I swat his hand away. “I was just teasing.”

  “You do have a red spot.” His eyebrows pinch in the middle.

  “Calm down—it will be gone in like five minutes. I’m not going to tattle on you.”

  “I don’t give a shit if you tell him. I just didn’t mean to be so rough.”

  I roll my eyes at his statement. “In case you were wondering, I fucking loved it and you, so stop.”

  Gunnar’s shoulders slump. I just witnessed his little man swoon. It’s adorable. Recovering quickly, he gets a small smirk. “You only love me for my cock.”

  I know he’s teasing, but I correct him anyway. It’s getting easier to share my feelings with them, even if I feel all weird and shy about it afterwards. “No, not just your cock. If I cut it off tomorrow, I would still keep you around.”

  Gunnar half scowls, half winces, and grabs his dick and bends a little to shove it back in his pants. “Stop talking about cutting off dicks. I’m gonna get nightmares.”

  I giggle and stoop to grab my jeans. Of course that would be the moment someone tries to come into the bathroom. The door smacks my bare ass, and I go flying forward. In an effort to stop my fall, I end up punching Gunnar right in the dick.

  “Oooaf.” Gunnar groans.

  When I look over my shoulder, there’s a woman standing in the open door with her head tilted to the side as if she’s trying to understand what she’s seeing. After righting myself, I drag my pants up my legs and shimmy to get them over my hips. “Bathroom’s all yours.” I wave her toward the stalls and grab Gunnar’s arm. He’s still cupping his crotch.

  “Come on, Kitten, I’ll have to kiss it better later. We don’t have time for another quickie.” It takes me a second to find my bearings so I can head back to the ballroom, but the noise is a dead giveaway, telling me that I’m on the right trail.

  When the doors open, I’m greeted with total anarchy. I raise my arms up high. “Now this is a party!”

  Chapter 15

  Tables are turned over and people are fighting, fucking, and just about everything in between. Torin is sitting on his throne with blood on his chin and hands, but he looks bored as hell as he watches the melee in front of him.

  I find Calix near the dais. His eyes are a little feverish as he scans the room, his fingers twitching like he wants to get in on the action. I wave my hand in the air to get his attention. When he doesn’t notice, I place my fingers in my mouth and let out a loud whistle. Every person stops, and all heads in the room turn in my direction. “Carry on,” I encourage, as I tow Gunnar along behind me. He’s still grousing about how he’ll never be able to have children and such, but I ignore him and head over to Calix.

  His nostrils flare and he tips his head back in the air, scenting it. His eyes darken when he peers at me, I’m sure his keen senses give him a pretty clear idea of where Gunnar and I have been. When he swipes his bottom lip with his tongue, wetting it, I blow him a kiss. That tongue should come with a warning label.

  “So what did we miss?” I ask when we reach him.

  Calix grabs my jaw and turns my face to the side. I tilt my head a little, trying to hide the red mark that may or may not still be there.

  “What happened here?” Calix questions. His voice is low and calm, but something about it feels forced.

  “What?” I reach up and place my hand against my cheek.

  “If you don’t know what it is, how do you know where it is?” Calix moves his eyes from mine and stares over my shoulder.

  “That’s nothing; you should see my ass. I got spanked by a door,” I quip, trying to ease the building tension.

  Calix looks down at me again. “Did someone hit you?”

  “Stars, no.” I switch from covering my cheek to holding the wrist of his hand that’s still cradling my jaw. I don’t want to rub that Gunnar and I just had a quickie in his face, but I won’t lie to him either. I step a little closer, and he lowers his head to hear me as I whisper. “I was up against the wall… and there was, well… friction.” I widen my eyes a little. “I’m fine, I promise. Nothing to worry about.”

  Calix moves lightning fast and wraps his arm around my lower back, pulling me closer. “I don’t like him marking up your skin.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me, just like I know you wouldn’t either, and I’d kill anyone else who tried—with a hacksaw, or a dull butter knife, ya know, to make them really regret it.”

  Calix snorts and wraps me in a hug. “Only after I broke every bone in their body.” I nuzzle my cheek against him and take in his scent. He smells like home.

  “Where’s Death?” Gunnar asks a few seconds later.

  “Somewhere out there.” Calix releases me with one arm but keeps the other around my back as
he scans the crowd.

  “What?” I search through the carnage. It’s hard to tell who’s fighting and who’s fucking at this point. It’s just a mass of limbs. I walk forward, forcing Calix to either come with me or release me.

  Instead of looking with my eyes, I open my senses. Grim’s unique aura of death and power quickly reveals his location. He’s donned his robes with his scythe curved over his head. There’s a body at his feet and, as he takes a step forward, I notice the macabre trail of blood that blooms behind him.

  I suck in a gasp. If he’s hurt, I will destroy everyone in this compound. My vision blurs until he’s all I see. “Where is all that blood coming from?” I take another step off the dais.

  Calix grabs my shoulder. “It’s not his, Dami.”

  A path clears for Grim, and silence follows in his wake. As he grows closer, I can see the dense fabric of his cloak is darker at the hem, soaked with blood. What the hell happened here?

  “There’s a reason everyone fears Death, Damiana,” Calix whispers, then backs away from me.

  Unconvinced Grim’s okay, I half run the rest of the way to him, lifting his hood back the moment my hands touch him. I need to see his face. His eyes are full of fire, no gray to be seen, and he’s pale, but the rest of him is perfectly fine. I reach out to touch his face, but he pulls away.

  “Not yet, Omnia. I am Death.”

  “Not to me you’re not. Besides, touching you would be worth the pain.” I trace my fingers over the porcelain skin of his jaw. He’s cold under my touch. “What happened?” I bounce my gaze between his eyes.

  “That man made me very angry.”

  “Who did?”

  “You are a goddess, and he spoke to you as if you were nothing.”

  I place my hand on his chest and feel the quick beat of his heart. “The angry dude? He was just talking shit, Loverboy. He didn’t hurt my feelings.”

  “He died a thousand deaths, and he will die thousands more before I allow him to pass.” Grim’s posture is rigid.