by Lila Dubois
“Huh? No.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“I am not like the others. I cannot live all my life in a human city, even for you. If I did, I do not think I would be Runako anymore, I would be something else.”
“Querido, I would not expect that from you.”
“You are not angry?” he said, clearly surprised.
“I’m walking into this eyes wide open,” she assured him. He loved her. She was in love with someone who loved her back. The fact that he was a Monster who lived in a cave in the middle of nowhere wasn’t enough to dent her bubble of happiness. “We’ll make it work. And if we can’t, I’ll shoot your balls off.”
“Ha ha, uh, you are kidding, right?”
“Whatever gets you through the night,” she said, hiding her smile. “We’ll live in both places. I have to live in L.A., especially while we work on this project. You can stay with me for part of the week, and I’ll spend the weekends here with you. After the movie is out a lot of things are going to change, but we’ll make it work. I’ll be like Persephone—six months in sunny L.A.—six months here with the Lord of the Underworld.”
“I have no idea who those people are.”
“Probably just as well.”
“I’d expected you to cry at that part, not when I told you my feelings.”
“Expect your expectations to evaporate.”
“Cute.”
“Aren’t I?”
“You are.”
“You know what? I’m starting to believe you.”
They made out like teenagers, all fumbling hands and jerky elbows as they tried to pull off Margo’s clothes without losing lip contact.
They paused while Margo stood to peel off her pants. Too bad she didn’t take her shoes off first.
“You know, we’ve only really spent three days together,” she panted, hopping up and down inelegantly as she tried to toe off her shoes. She started to topple over, and Runako caught her. “We’ll get back to L.A., realize we don’t have the same life goals, or you’ll be horrified by my credit score and we’ll stop dating. We’re probably not in love.”
“We’re not?” he said, as he yanked at her shoelaces.
“We’re in lust. No one falls in love in three days.”
“Is this some stupid human rule?”
“You seriously could say that you love me after spending three days with me?”
“From the moment I woke up and looked into your eyes I started to love you.”
Her shoes came off. Margo straddled him and ran her hands over his bare chest as he kneaded her hips. “We haven’t even talked about the fact that you’re black.”
Runako looked at his arm. “I’m brown.”
“Work with me on this. My mom is going to freak if I bring home a black guy.”
“Your mother would not approve of me?”
“Honey, you’re gorgeous and we’re going to lie and say you’re a doctor or something, but you’re black and I’m Hispanic and from Highland Park. My mom is going to be worried about you getting shot.”
“More guns. Actually, where’s your gun? Let’s play with it.”
“We’re not mixing sex and guns.”
“But you looked hot.”
Margo’s leggings and panties came off and then they were back to kissing. She could worry about the race relation’s nightmare she would face when she showed up to Sunday dinner with him later.
“You’re Catholic, okay?” she panted.
“Woman, what are you talking about?” Runako grabbed her face and looked into her eyes.
“Just say you’re Catholic.”
“I’m Catholic.”
“Good enough. That took care of that problem.” Margo tried to keep a straight face, but he looked so exasperated and adorable that she couldn’t stop the grin.
Her smile faded as she looked into his eyes. This was her man, and she was his. That sounded mighty fine.
Runako stroked her sides, around to her back, and then down her ass. Margo slid one hand down his belly to find his cock hard and waiting. She wrapped it in her fist and rubbed her thumb over the tip. Runako’s hands kneaded their way from her ass to her breasts.
Margo wrenched her mouth away to help try and get the too small sports bra off. “I can’t wait to tell the girls about us when I see them tomorrow.”
“You’re not seeing them tomorrow.”
Margo, with her arms stuck over her head and trapped there by Spandex, yelped, “What?”
“I’m kidnapping you.”
“You can’t do that.” She thrashed her way out and glared at him. “I have work.”
“You’re mine.”
With narrowed eyes she went for his balls. Runako anticipated her, grabbed her wrist, and used his hold on her to flip her onto her belly.
“Naughty, naughty, my mate.” He spanked her, once on each still-sore ass cheek. Why did she find this so hot? Eh, who cared. Good sex was good sex.
“I take it back,” she said, glaring at him over her shoulder. “I don’t love you anymore.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Quiet, prisoner.”
He spanked her again, and Margo hissed out a breath of real pain. Her ass was too sore from last time. Runako’s hand rubbed her. “Too sore,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, sorry,” she whispered. She loved that he’d known when her exclamation was one of real pain.
Runako helped her turn over. Margo slung a leg across him, straddling him. She rubbed his cock. The tip was wet with pre-come.
“Watch,” she said. He watched her touch him, watched her hands, pale when compared to his dark skin, stroke the length of his cock. She pulled gently on his foreskin then rubbed her thumb over the exposed tip. His breath hissed out. Margo lifted her thumb to her lips and slowly licked it clean of his pre-come.
“Now,” Runako demanded. He grabbed her hips, angled his own, and in the next instant he was inside her.
He felt good inside her, long and thick. Margo reached behind herself, braced her hands on his knees, and leaned back. This pressed his cock against the front wall of her vagina and when he started thrusting the tip of his cock rubbed her G-spot.
Margo had always been a bit dubious about the whole G-spot thing. She figured the chicks who said they got off on G-spot play alone were the same ones that said the vibrations on an airplane were enough to get them going. But she became a believer that night.
Margo braced her arms and legs, holding herself slightly off Runako so he could thrust. When she could no longer keep herself still she sat forward. Runako’s ass dropped down, and Margo took over. With her hands braced on his shoulders she bounced up and down on his cock. She didn’t care that her belly was jiggling or that her boobs probably looked ridiculous. He thought she was beautiful, and he loved her.
Margo fucked herself on him, bouncing with wild abandon, her hair falling in front of her face.
“Yes, yes,” Runako whispered almost reverently. “Pleasure yourself on me. You are beautiful. Your breasts, you hair. Your sex is hot and tight around me.”
His words spurred her to greater hip gyrations.
Dirty words played through her mind but she was too wrapped up to get them out. Instead she moaned and thrashed.
Runako’s hands found her breasts, groping and squeezing. Her head was tipped back in pleasure, but she could feel him watching her, and it didn’t make her nervous or embarrassed.
Runako suddenly gripped her hips, urging her to thrust harder. “Can’t wait,” he growled, and then he was moaning and holding her down on him. Margo could feel his cock twitching inside her.
The moment his hold on her hips relaxed she resumed her thrusting. She’d been actively stopping herself from coming by slowing down when she felt the orgasm coming on, but now she wanted it, wanted to join him. She leaned back on one hand, the other on her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples.
“You are so sexy…” he sai
d breathlessly.
“Clit,” she moaned. “Touch my clit.”
He slid two fingers into the cleft of her sex. He didn’t even need to move them. Margo’s thrusts rubbed her clit against his fingers, his cock rubbed her G-spot.
She came, thrashing wildly, throwing herself forward so she could bite his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, hugged her tight as her body relaxed.
Margo felt truly calm for the first time since they’d left the Captive Caves.
Runako’s arms dropped from her back and she whimpered. “Don’t let go.”
“Never,” he assured her in a low voice. Runako wrapped his arms around her once more, and with his cock still buried inside her, they fell asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Margo woke to find herself in a slightly different cave than the one she’d been in before. She was curled in the center of a large bowl-shaped bed, draped in furs. It looked somewhat like a nest. She swallowed a giggle that her winged Monster querido slept in a nest, then climbed to her feet to look around.
Like the other cave the walls were polished to a high gloss and the room was lit by candles. A tall armoire, its proportions in line with the cave, the front ornately decorated in gold, was the only other furnishing. Margo clambered out of the bowl/nest/bed thing and headed for the armoire. It was easily twice as tall and she was, and it took a considerable amount of strength to open it.
The interior was a honeycomb of cubbyholes. She found weapons, scrolls, paperback books in a spiky language she’d never seen before, Monster clothes—at least that’s what she assumed the large leather short-like garments were—and, tucked in the bottom, wadded up and wrinkled, some human clothes.
She grabbed the undershirt, which was wrinkled beyond belief, and pulled it on. It was large enough to fall to the top of her thigh.
Margo finger-brushed her hair and wished for a mirror.
Mirrors made her think of bathroom, and instantly she had to pee. Fingers knotted nervously—what if there wasn’t a bathroom?—she set out to explore.
Margo wasn’t really all that concerned that Runako wasn’t here. Considering all that had happened she was sure he was debriefing someone. That’s what she’d be doing if she had a way to communicate with the girls.
Margo found the bathroom. It wasn’t like the one in the Captive Caves, which had been fitted for humans. The toilet was a huge stone affair, and had been carved from the wall of the cave. There was a chain pull, which turned out to be the flushing mechanism. Margo tested it before she climbed on the throne, and the sound of rushing water echoed. She bent to the toilet and shouted, “Helloooo.”
Her voice bounced down into the dark hole below and continued to echo back at her for a long time. Margo carefully seated herself, clutching the edges for fear of falling in. It was like trying to sit on a keg tub. There was no toilet paper.
She pulled the chain a second time, watching water coat the stone bowl and flow down the apparently bottomless hole.
A little chest on the floor held pretty glass bottles containing liquids and gels of various consistencies and smells. Margo had no idea which one was soap so she made do with plain water from the large pitcher sitting on a tall table. The pitcher was too heavy for Margo to lift, so she scooped out handfuls of water into the bowl beside it and scrubbed her hands, face and between her legs.
There were also no towels.
After wiping her cold hands on the hem of her shirt Margo headed for the bed. Her feet and hands were cold, and curling up under all those fur blankets sounded really appealing.
Getting back into the bowl-shaped bed was a bit of and ordeal. Margo bumped her knee scrambling in, then rolled into the center and pulled the furs around her. She was drifting to sleep when Runako returned.
She knew he was back. She didn’t hear him, or see him, but she knew he was back. Margo thought about getting out of the bed, but she was too warm and comfortable. Hopefully he’d come to her and they could nap together, then wake up and do other things.
Thinking of those things chased away some of Margo’s sleepiness. When Runako entered the bedroom cave Margo was awake and watching him.
“Nice bed,” she said, voice husky with sleep.
“You look very good in it,” he commented. He was carrying a stone box, which he set down before coming to her. He stepped into the bed, tucking his wings into his back.
He was cold, and Margo yelped and wiggled away as he pulled her against him.
“I’d just gotten warm,” she bitched as her skin broke out in goose bumps.
“I’ll warm you up.”
“All talk,” she teased.
“You’re right. I have no intention of warming you up.” His voice was lower than normal, which was really saying something, and there was a note in his voice that had the hairs on her neck standing on end—and not from cold.
“What are your…intentions?” She twisted so she could see his face. It was no longer scary to look at his face in this form. Admittedly his sharp teeth and dark eyes were frightening, but the being inside, the monster she loved, would never hurt her, and that stripped away her fear.
“You need to be punished,” he growled.
Margo’s nipples pebbled. “Punished?”
“You tried to strike my balls.”
“You deserved it.”
He grinned, showing off all zillion teeth. His grin faded, and he lowered his eyebrows. “I will not have my female behaving disobediently. You will have to learn your place.”
He was kidding, wasn’t he?
“You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Runako opened his mouth but she cut him off. “Because if you are serious we need to talk.”
Runako sighed in exasperation. “I am not serious. Though a bit of obedience wouldn’t hurt you…”
She smacked his shoulder and then shook out her probably bruised hand. “Okay I just had to check.”
“Back to your punishment.”
“I thought that was a joke,” she yelped as he stripped away her covers, leaving her naked.
“Learning your place was a joke. Punishment is not.”
He traced a path down the center of her body with one golden claw. His claw was sharp enough to leave a faint scratch mark everyplace it touched. From the underside of her jaw, between her breasts, circling her belly button, to the top of the curls covering her sex. He retraced the path and detoured to circle her breasts. His claw traced a spiral, first scraping the soft skin on the underside of her breast where it met her ribs, over the upper swells and into a tight circle that flirted with the outline of her areola.
Margo licked her lips and spread her legs, wantonly inviting him in. She loved the way he handled her, loved the way he made her feel, loved him.
Runako accepted her invitation and slid his claw down her body and between the lips of her sex. He wiggled it side to side, rubbing her clit, and Margo moaned in pleasure.
“This will be easier in my other form,” he murmured. Runako pulled his claw from her sex and climbed out of the bed. She barely noticed him lifting the stone box onto the bed before stepping away to change from a fearsome monster into a handsome man.
Margo was busy playing with herself. She slipped two fingers between the lips of her sex and rubbed her clit. She alternated her strokes between the hood and the tip of her clit. She closed her eyes and thought about where she was, what was happening to her.
She was the captive of a terrifying monster. He was about to punish her for attempting to escape him. He was unyielding and stern. She could cry and scream and he would offer her no mercy.
Her hand was pulled from her sex. “Naughty,” he scolded before taking her fingers into his mouth and sucking her juices from them.
“I promise to be good,” Margo said huskily, opening her eyes. Runako, now human, stared down at her. He smiled briefly, his eyes sparkling with pleasure that she was playing along, before his face went cold and stern.
“You will be good, because you will b
e punished if you are not.”
“Don’t hurt me,” Margo whispered. She winced as she said it—honestly where was she getting this B-movie dialogue? Time to stop watching TCM late at night.
“I will hurt you if I want to. If it pleases me to hurt you.”
Well that wasn’t a line from a spaghetti western.
Runako turned to the stone box and pulled out…
A snowball? He showed it to her, and Margo’s eyes went wide as she considered the possibilities. Runako dropped the snowball back into the stone box. Margo stretched her hand to it and felt the cold radiating off the stone. Runako must have flown up the mountain to the snow-capped peak and brought back the snow.
You had to love a man who knew how to plan.
Runako captured the hand she’d stretched towards the box and laced his fingers with hers. His lips met her in a soft kiss that soon turned savage. His tongue pushed between her teeth to taste the roof of her mouth. His lips scraped hers and his teeth bit her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.
Taking up the snowball he pinched off a small piece and pressed it to her lips. The cold was lovely and welcomed on lips that were hot and swollen from too many kisses. Slowly the snow melted, water trickling down the sides of her face, forging paths along her neck before disappearing into her scattered hair.
He pinched off a second piece, murmuring “Open,” and slipped it into her mouth. Margo drank down the cold of the melting snow. Her fingers strayed to her clit. His mastery was arousing to the point that Margo was sure that if she didn’t have an orgasm, now, she’d die.
Runako caught her hand and pulled it away from her sex. “You need to be punished, not pleasured.”
“I want you,” Margo whispered.
“Good.” Again he pinched off a piece of snow, but this he placed on her sternum, between her breasts, the trail of water running up to her neck and off to each side, slipping below the swell of each breast.
Margo hissed as the snow melted, but rather than making her cold she was getting hotter and hotter as he toyed with her. When his fingers once more approached her body, a pinch of snow in his grip, Margo knew where it was going, even before he laid it against her nipple. She gasped and jerked, the sensation so strong it was painful, her teeth clenching as he held the snow firmly against her nipple. Her flesh rucked up, tight and red, but still he held it there, freezing the tight bud. Her single whimper turned into a repeated sound, an unending plea for him to stop, and one that he would not obey, a plea for him to do more, again that he would not obey.