by Lila Dubois
Jane caught her lower lip between her teeth. What if Michael changed into a dragon? What if he changed into a dragon and ate people?
“Jane?” he asked through the door.
“Sorry, I just had to make a note about something,” she said, typing Michael a Dragon? in her notes.
“I should have known.”
“So showing your Spirit Eye, that was the first…manifestation…of your monster form?”
“Uh…sure.”
“After that, you told me to run. Why? Are you unable to control yourself as a monster, would you have hurt me?”
“I have as much control as a monster as I do as a human.”
“Hmmm.”
“The reason I wanted you gone was that I didn’t want you to see me like that.” His voice was bleak, streaked with pain. Jane wished she could see him.
“Did it hurt to lose control?”
“Yes.”
“And your…wings, does it hurt when they come out?”
The memory of his wings was still hazy, almost as if her mind rejected the reality and so refused to hold the image of what she had seen.
“It shouldn’t, but this time it did. They had to rip through my human skin to get out.”
“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry I didn’t realize…” Jane was already sliding her laptop off her legs, prepared to race him to the Emergency Room.
“I healed as soon as I brought myself under control. Don’t worry, sweet Jane.”
They sat quietly for a moment, and Jane could see them, the way a camera would: mirrored postures, only a thin board between them. The scene was so vivid in her mine Jane typed:
INT. SCENE — JANE’S APARTMENT
JANE and MICHAEL sit with their backs on either side of a BEDROOM DOOR. Both are visible in profile. JANE is bathed in soft yellow light from lamps. MICHAEL sits in shadows and moonlight.
Jane shook herself, closed the document she’d just typed the scene into and went back to her list of questions.
“After your wings…er…unfurled, that’s when I ran. What did you do after that?”
“Why did you run, Jane?”
“I was frightened. You…roared, and then there were suddenly these huge wings filling the room. I hadn’t meant to run. I wanted to stay here and help you.”
“You should have run when I told you to. Next time I tell you to run, you run.”
“Would you have let me go?”
“Maybe. I meant to. It took the last of my control to tell you to go, to send you away before I scared you. You stayed just long enough that I lost the rest of my control.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse. I wanted to help.”
“Are you sure you wanted to help?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you sure you didn’t want to take the chance to see my monster form?”
Jane’s mouth dropped open in shock. Is that what he thought? That she’d stayed so she could watch him lose control? If only he knew how scared she was.
Maybe it was time to tell him.
“Michael, there’s something I want to tell you.” Jane leaned her head back against the door, realizing this confession would be much easier when she didn’t have to look at him.
Something in her tone must have alerted him, because she heard Michael shifting on the other side of the door, and when he spoke his voice was louder, his face closer to the doorjamb. “Yes?”
“I don’t want to see you as a monster. I’m scared of you. Of you and Luke and Henry. The other girls…they’re all brave and strong. I’m scared and have been since the first time I saw Luke as a monster. After Runako almost killed Lena, after he and Luke fought, I wanted to run away. I wished…I wished I’d never met any of you.”
Jane paused in her story and the silence from the other side of the door was deafening.
“I don’t want to see you as a monster, but I need to. For the sake of the project, sure, but more for myself. I can’t go back to pretending that turning on the lights kills the monster under the bed. The monsters are real, you’re real, and I need to face that.”
Jane bit her lower lip. She’d said enough, more than enough, and though her instincts were to keep talking, explaining, justifying, she had to force herself to stop.
The silence stretched, and tears filled Jane’s eyes. She’d just killed her relationship with the most interesting man she’d ever met.
“Why?” His question startled her and Jane jumped slightly, wiping her eyes before she remembered he couldn’t see her tears.
“Why what?” she replied.
“Why did you ask to see my monster form? Why did you agree to spend this week with me if the reward wasn’t something you wanted?”
“Well…I need to face it, face you, as a monster. And, if we’re being honest, I thought maybe you wanted, well, that you wanted a relationship, and so I wanted to face you as a monster, to be sure I could handle it.”
Jane regretted her honesty the moment the words were out of her mouth, but there was no taking them back. Silence descended once more. Jane fiddled with her laptop, unsure if she should break the silence.
“I’m sorry.” Michael spoke so softly she barely heard him.
“Michael?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, voice low. “You must have been so scared when I lost control and changed. It would have been bad enough if you were frightened, but knowing that you were already scared… I’m so sorry, Sleeping Beauty.”
This was not what she’d expected, and Jane fell a little in love with him.
“No, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize, Jane. You have every reason to fear us. Look at what I did to you tonight.” He sighed and shifted again. “What I said in the restaurant is true. I really don’t know exactly how it happened. All I can tell you is that I spoke in a language that is very old, and only used by the monsters. I gave the command to sleep, and you did.”
“Is that what it was supposed to do?”
“I’d never tried it before. I didn’t know it would work. But there are stories, more legend than fact, which say that long ago monsters could command humans with no more than a thought or word. The sirens were supposed to have sung in the old language to lure humans.”
“So this language, it has some sort of effect on the human mind?”
“Yes, though, if it makes you feel better, there are also stories that say there is a group of humans, somewhere in Russia, that discovered a language that had the same effect on the monsters.”
“Wow. Hold on, I’ve gotta type this all in. The sirens were real and they were monsters. That is a fantastic example. There is a language the monsters can use to control humans. What else can you make them do, besides fall asleep? I mean, could you make a human jump off a building?”
“I don’t think so, and it’s not as simple as that. It doesn’t work on all humans. I know it doesn’t, because the Council tried it. When they first realized the humans were going to be a problem, they tried using the old language to turn them away from the places we lived. It didn’t work. That’s why I assumed the stories of the language actually having some effect were myth.”
“Why did it work on me?”
“You’re special.”
“You mean susceptible.”
“No, I mean open. You are more open to new things, different things, than other humans.”
“But I’m not, I’m terrified.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re terrified, you see all the possibilities.”
“That is the nicest compliment I’ve received in a long time.” Jane was a little frightened by how well he knew her.
“Uh, you’re welcome? I said it because I think it’s true. Do you remember me singing to you?”
“I remember you chanting. Ohh! Is that the antidote for the sleep command?”
“I don’t know. The thing is…er…I didn’t actually know how to wake you up.”
“Did you try kissing me?” Jan
e asked, her notes forgotten. She was enjoying this, enjoying the intimacy of a conversation without the pressure of physical contact.
“Yes.”
“Did anything happen?”
“No.”
“Then I guess I’m not Sleeping Beauty.”
“But you are. You’re my Sleeping Beauty.”
“Sleeping Beauty wakes up when she’s kissed by the prince.”
“I’m not a prince, I’m the monster guarding her, and I’ll just have to find something besides kisses to wake her up.”
Sexual tension sizzled and popped. Jane’s hand was on the doorknob before she realized what she was doing. She pulled her hand away. Focus.
“If a kiss didn’t wake me up, what did?”
She heard him sigh through the door, and Jane smiled at the disgruntled sound.
“Healing is done through chanting. There are healers who specialize in the art, and they know how to craft a chant so it is perfectly tuned to the sick person. I held you on my lap and started chanting.”
“Are you trained as a healer?”
“No, but with you I could feel what the notes needed to be, your body spoke to me.”
“How?”
“I just…felt it. I don’t know.”
“How long did you have to chant before I woke up?”
“I didn’t really notice, but it was longer than ten minutes.”
“When I…woke up, I was, um…”
“Horny?”
“Okay, I was looking for a nicer word, but yeah, horny. Is that a side effect?”
“Not that I know of. You said that you felt free, like your inhibitions had been stripped, and that sounds right. I knew you were passionate, and I think my chant called to that part of you, brought it to the surface.”
“At first I felt almost like I was in a trance or something, but by the end it was just me, just Jane, but a um…”
“Horny Jane?”
“Okay, enough with that word, but yeah.”
“I told you so.”
“Gee, that’s helpful.”
“I did! I told you that you were passionate, that you would know great passion.”
“What if it was just a symptom of the command or chant?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Jane slid across the floor as Michael forced open the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Jane yelped as she slid across the carpet.
Michael slipped through the doorway, stooped and picked Jane up. She cradled her laptop protectively. If she hadn’t been holding the computer she might have been able to put up some resistance, but as it was she couldn’t do anything as Michel set her down on the bed and pulled off her shoes.
“Michael, we’re not done talking.”
“Yeah, we are.”
“You can’t just—”
Michael opened the middle drawer of her dresser and pulled out a handful of scarves.
“Oh crap,” Jane whispered. She lunged off the bed, closing her laptop and setting it on the buffet she had in the bedroom. Michael was on her in the next breath.
“What are you doing?”
Michael picked her up around the waist with one arm and threw her back on the bed.
“That’s really getting old,” Jane mumbled as she bounced amid the pillows.
Michael climbed onto the bed beside her and rolled her onto her stomach. He straddled her, holding her in place by sitting on her ass.
Twisting her head to the side, Jane watched Michael knot brightly colored scarves into a long rope. She sucked in a breath.
He looped the scarf-rope around the back of the solid headboard, leaving two-foot long lengths protruding from each corner.
Jane, usually so verbose, lay mute beneath Michael. Would he do it? Would he really tie her up? She wanted it, wanted it with a desire that gnawed at her stomach. But wanting wasn’t always enough. Did she trust him?
He’d sprouted wings in her living room, used a magic word to put her to sleep, then woke her up in such a way that she’d been a nympho.
She trusted him.
With her body, with sex, she did trust him. Every time he’d touched her it had been to pleasure her, even if in doing so he pushed her pre-set limits. He wanted to pleasure her, and she knew he could do it.
Michael’s weight lifted off her ass and he rolled her over, still trapped between his legs. He looked down at her, eyes bright blue and intense.
“I’m going to tie you up. I’m going to bind you to the bed. You’ll be mine. I’ll do whatever I want to you. Touch you however I want.”
Jane licked her dry lips. Rather than give in, she tilted her chin up in defiance, saying nothing.
Michael smiled, and it was the devil’s own grin.
He swung off her, then off the bed, waiting beside it to see if he’d understood her signals. Jane pulled herself onto her knees. She paused for a minute and then tore off her shirt and skirt, throwing them to the floor. Michael’s eyes widened in surprise, but Jane didn’t care. This would be much sexier if she did it in her underwear.
Kneeling on the bed, Jane looked at him, notched her chin up, and said, “You’re not tying me up.”
Michael uncrossed his arms. “Yes, I am.”
“You’ll pussy out. You talk a good line about all the amazing kinky sex we’ll have, but so far—” Jane shrugged, “—I’ve had better.”
Michael’s eyes widened. He reached for her and Jane threw herself off the bed. She scrambled for the door. He caught her, hauling her back against his chest.
“Trying to get away, sweet Jane?”
He yanked her bra down, her breasts popping free. He plucked at her nipples, rolling and pinching them. Jane’s whole body shook from the pleasure. The hand holding her by the waist slipped between her legs. He cupped her sex and lifted, forcing her to her toes.
Jane whimpered.
“That’s right, pretty girl, cry all you want, but it won’t save you. I’m going to rip these off—” his fingers pressed her panties between the lips of her sex, “—and then I’m going to tie you up and do whatever I want to you.”
“You…you…” Jane was too frazzled by the pleasure of his fingers on her sex and breasts to come up with another defiant retort.
Michael nibbled the skin on her neck. “Is this what you want?” he whispered so as not to break the mood.
Jane nodded.
“Do you want more? Do you want me to add to the fantasy?”
“Yessssssss.”
“From now until I untie you it’s just a game. I’m going to say things… I don’t want to scare you again.”
“Less talking, more kink,” Jane panted.
Michael chuckled, little puffs of breath against her neck. “Whatever my Sleeping Beauty wants.”
He kissed her softly once more, the last touch before they entered a game that was much more than a game.
His fingers bundled the fabric at the front of her panties. He yanked up. Jane yelped and pushed farther up on her toes as the fabric pressed into her sex.
“That’s right, girl,” he growled. “You’re mine, and I’ll do whatever I want with you, to you.”
He spun her to face the bed, and forced her to bend at the waist, face and shoulders pressed into the mattress. He ripped her panties from her sex, then pushed them down her legs. He undid the back clasp of her bra, and reached beneath her to pull it off, the shoulder straps scraping down her arms.
He put a hand at the small of her back and pushed. “Arch your back, girl. Show me your ass and pussy.”
Jane was panting with arousal, reveling in the fantasy. She arched her back for a moment, then pushed up, spinning around and hitting his chest with her closed fist.
Michael grabbed her wrists, forcing them behind her back. “You’ll be punished for that.”
Jane moaned.
“Don’t think you’ll get away with a simple spanking. No, I’m going to use you hard, very hard, as punishment.”
&nb
sp; Jane didn’t even know what that meant, but she wanted it. She wanted it.
He pushed her back on the bed, climbing next to her and hauling her squirming body to the center of the bed. He straddled her chest, taking first her left, then right wrist and binding them with the scarves.
Jane tugged at her bindings, true panic sparking and fading like a firefly. He climbed off the bed, folded his arms and looked at her.
“Gorgeous, but you’ll be prettier once you’ve been marked by my teeth and hands.”
He reached for her legs and Jane kicked at him. He snatched her ankles, and, holding them together with one hand forced her knees to her chest, her feet above her head.
Spank! Spank!
His flat palm smacked her ass once, then again. Jane yelped in real pain.
“Ow!”
He released her legs. “That was just a reminder to behave. You’re still to be punished.”
Michael went back to the scarf drawer, creating a second long rope, and looped this one behind the footboard. Jane didn’t struggle as he spread her legs, tying them in place. She wanted this, wanted to be bound to the bed, spread open for him.
This time when he stepped back he stripped, movements jerky. When he pulled off his pants his erection sprung free, long and hard and oh-god-she-wanted-that-thing-inside-her-whose-dumb-idea-had-no-sex-been-anyway.
He straddled her waist, looking down at her. His fingers went to her nipples, rolling and pinching them. He scooped a drop of pre-come from the tip of his cock and rubbed it onto her nipple.
“You’ve been strangely quiet,” he mused as he toyed with her breasts, “but that won’t stop me from gagging you.”
He reached back for one final scarf. Before Jane had time to decide if she wanted to object, he’d slipped the scarf under her neck and knotted it in the front. He leaned down and kissed her, tongue pushing into her mouth, opening it. He lifted away, moved the knot between her parted lips, and tightened it. He tied a second knot and then turned the lump of fabric in, so that it filled her mouth.
He kissed her, his tongue lapping over lips and fabric. He sat up and smiled.
“How does it feel knowing you can’t say anything? You can’t stop me. There’s nothing you can do. I’m going to do whatever I want to you. Touch you wherever I want.”