My Kind of Monster - Excerpt

✦ EXPLORE LILITH’S NOVELS ✦

My Kind of Monster Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

HIM

There’s solace here amongst the towering pine trees, at the top of the mountain peak that dominates what seems like the entire world. A sea of white surrounds me and other textures are only visible when the sharp wind ruffles the feathers of the pine trees, scattering more snow to the ground.

In the far distance, the other peaks loom, giants ruling over their lands. As I admire them, savoring the sound of silence, I taste a heaviness infusing the air. The world’s gone silent. As if a predator looms and all creatures hide. A calm before a shattering storm.

Interesting…

I breathe in the heavy air and it fuels me, the cold burning my lungs.

There’s nothing around this time of year. The birds are hidden, the animals are hibernating or sheltered, and the crickets are long gone.

There is nothing. Nothing but me.

This mountain is my sanctuary, my escape from this cruel fucking world simmering in its own filth. I bought this entire mountain, this peak, when I fucked off the world and left everything behind.

And as my old life ended and my new one began, in the calm of the peak, in the middle of this beautiful wild world, I both found and lost myself. It’s a fucking Greek tragedy, a beautiful one, nonetheless.

It’s still early, but I can see the sun hiding behind the mountains. The winter is harsh, the days are short, and dusk is my favorite thing to enjoy on this mountain. It’s the only time of day I stop everything I’m doing, go out on the first-floor terrace and soak it all in.

There’s nothing more satisfying than this view of the sun dying every day at dusk.

And as the heavy air predicted… I hear it.

My solace is broken by a blood curdling scream deep into the woods. That sound beckons me to follow; the fear in it is like a fucking siren’s song, and the pain vibrating through the soundwaves is even fucking better.

This here is one of the reasons I had to leave it all behind. Nothing makes me harder than the blood curdling scream of a woman dominated by fear.

“Jesus Christ…”

I wait, my fists tense, fighting the urge to jump the fuck off the terrace, chase that delicious scream through the woods and find the scared woman. It takes everything in me not to succumb to my urges—the darkness embedded so fucking deep inside of me that you can see the demons in my eyes.

If you get close enough to look or are unfortunate enough…

The last strands of the echo her screaming left behind are absorbed by another loud shriek.

Pain and terror; I feel them seeping into my bones, wrapping around my fucking soul, a shiver rushing from the bottom of my spine up to the back of my neck. It awakens something in me, memories I couldn’t taste anymore, emotions too far out of my reach.

The pain-filled scream sounds more defeated this time around—she’s getting tired. I lick my lips and flex every muscle in my body as I try to hold myself back.

“Fuck!”

I have two options here… I either chase my cravings through those fucking woods and succumb to the demons lurking inside of me or I push everything back inside and choose to save that pitiful woman from the harsh winter cold and whatever made her scream like that.

Fuck it!

I find myself running through the house, down the stairs and out the front door before my decision made it to my inner monologue. I run towards the scream that’s still echoing through the woods, without knowing what I’ll do when I get there. I dodge through the trees that I know like the back of my damn hand, jump over the dips and mounds and feel my blood getting hotter, my dick getting harder, and a big fucking grin settling on my lips.

Fuck, how I love the chase!

God help this pitiful woman that stumbled onto my mountain. I haven’t had a woman in a while since no one can come here this time of year unless they’re on foot and have provisions for days. No one comes here anyway, unless they want to have their fucking legs broken or I have invited them myself. And I haven’t invited a woman here since the winter started.

So how did this one end up in this predicament?

HER

I am stumbling with every step I take, struggling to run through the thick snow that touches the middle of my naked thighs, and the adrenaline pumping through me is my only layer of protection against the freezing cold. It’s useless, all useless. I cannot see what is under the snow, I cannot see where the next step takes me. I could fall through a hole in the ground, I could step in a bear trap, but it does not matter.

Not now.

I have to push forward, run for my fucking life, because even if I fall to my death in these woods, it will be a whole lot better than what I am running from.

I think I have lost him. I hope I have. I run faster than my own legs can hold me, aiming to go down the mountain, but somehow, I still seem to be going up. I can hear him behind me, hear the screeching sound his boots make on the thick snow, but I don’t dare to turn around to check how close he is. I keep running.

As the woods grow darker with every minute that passes, my nakedness and the high snow are not the only challenges I face anymore. The sun keeps dying down, and I am left with no light source. The moonlight can’t penetrate the snow-covered crowns of the old pine trees.

When darkness will take over, there will be nothing left. Only me and my worst fucking nightmare.

Many times lately, I’ve debated how I ended up in this predicament.

Was it my fault?

Did I do this to myself?

All the conclusions that one could reach, I have reached as well, but I have not yet settled on one. Depending on what he does to me, my decision changes and I realize all options might be true.

I was a desperate idiot, and he is a goddamn monster.

HIM

I’m deep in the woods now. The darkness has descended, and the world around me is completely quiet, except for her steps digging desperately into the snow.

If I want the benefit of surprise, I can’t turn on the small flashlight currently sitting in my jeans pocket. I stop, stand near an old thick tree and I listen. I can hear her.

Light fumbling footsteps coming my way.

Ragged breaths as she slows down, losing strength.

How she stumbles and falls, more than once, but she picks herself back up and keeps going. Desperation clouds her breaths, but I can’t help but smile at her perseverance.

Further back, deeper into the forest, I can hear another set of footfalls. Heavy. Strong. Determined. Now the screaming makes sense. He’s coming for her; his steps light but deliberate, making sure that she can’t tell where he is. He’s chasing her calmly, without breaking a fucking sweat, because he knows there’s nowhere for her to run. All he needs to do is follow the trail she’s leaving in the thick snow.

My blood boils hotter thinking of this asshole being on my fucking mountain.

I hear her coming closer and closer and without even realizing, she stops by a tree right behind me. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I can almost see her. Not everything, but enough to know her position and when she starts moving again.

She darts away from the tree with newfound strength, pushing herself harder, but I’m right there. One arm circling her waist, lifting her from the ground, the other straight on her fucking mouth, trapping any sound that threatens to come out.

“Don’t scream or I swear to the fucking gods, you’ll wish he caught you, not me,” I whisper, my breathing brushing her ear.

She shakes uncontrollably, she can’t help it; I know she’s both scared to death and freezing fucking cold. And she’s completely naked.

Why the fuck is she naked?!

She feels soft against me, her body curvy, her bones covered by a soft layer of flesh, perfect for kneading under my rough hands. I hold her against me until her body calms, until her pulse slows enough for her to process what is happening.

As I press her harder into me, I feel her muscles relax. Maybe it’s my body heat that’s making her react like this. Maybe it’s the lack of choice. I drop her back on her feet, still holding her against me.

My arm is around her waist and my palm pressed hard on her side, itching to fucking slide down her soft body, because her flesh feels so goddamn good under my touch.

And it does. I can’t help myself.

More importantly, I don’t want to.

This situation right here is my own personal dirty heaven. The chase, the vulnerability, the lack of consent. All screaming at me in songs of filth and desire.

I slide my hand across to her middle, then down over her belly button, stopping when the tips of my fingers only just touch the curls of her mound. Nothing better than unshaved, natural fucking pussy.

I groan at the touch, and every single muscle in her body, one by one, tenses against me. There’s a tremor in her flesh as she attempts to pull away from me, but her head falls back—the tiniest, slightest movement that one would have missed.

I didn’t.

She’s a tiny thing, maybe a foot or more shorter than me and as my fingers reach her curls, I lean forward, my warm breath brushing the top of her ear. Suddenly, as my dick twitches against her back, she’s shaking for a whole other reason.

She ran away from a monster only to fall between the tentacles of a much bigger one.

Oh, little siren, if only your screams didn’t reach my ears… If only…

I’m aware that I’m a caveman right now.

I’m aware that in the real world, away from this mountain, you don’t do things like this.

I’m aware of what normal human behavior is.

I’m aware I’m not supposed to get hard when a woman screams in fear or touch her the way I’m touching this one right now.

I’m perfectly damn fucking aware.

But we’re not in the real world, not now, not ever again. Here, on this mountain, is my world.

The thump of heavy footsteps interrupts my train of thought, and I stop before I can reach her core. Pulling the woman up against me, my arm circling her belly once again, I try to assess how far away the bastard is.

His steps are muffled, but I still think he might be far enough away that he won’t see us in the dark if we start moving now.

I spot a fallen leafy branch a few feet away and let go of the woman. I drop my hand from her mouth and she stumbles on her trembling legs. It doesn’t take long to see that she’s not going anywhere. She’ll be lucky if she doesn’t lose toes and fingers to frostbite or die of fucking hypothermia soon, if she decides to go on her own.

“Walk on my path. When I back up, you back up. Don’t stray or he’ll find you,” I whisper in her ear. “Unless you want to run away from me as well. If you do, you better make sure I will never… ever… find you.”

It makes no fucking difference to me if she does run, because if she does, I will find her. That asshole trailing her doesn’t know the mountain as well as I do, no one does. I can kill him here without any trouble, then claim her as my prize either way.

Yet, I like to give my prey a sense of security before I rip it away.

I’ve never done it without prior agreement though. As much as I’ve wanted to force my dick in unwilling pussy, I’m not that fucking stupid. It was always a game, always one of my own creation—a game to fuel and sate my filthy non-consensual desires.

A game that would hold the demons in line and keep the monster hidden.

But this here, this is not a game. And if I kill that motherfucker, no one will hear his screams… or hers. No one.

She appears to be smart enough to know that.

HER

I stumble, unsteady on my feet. The cold has reached so deep into my bones that my body is failing me. I do not have much fight left in me, and I am holding on to whatever is still there to fuel my next breath.

Who the hell is he?

He’s clearly big, big enough to lift me off the ground like I was nothing.

And warm, he is so goddamn warm.

Fear almost paralyzed me when I felt the air shift behind me. But when he lifted me with one arm and pulled me into his strong body, I damn near screamed with joy. He was so warm, and it took everything in me not to grind against him so I could absorb it all. Everything!

At that moment, I couldn’t care less who he was as long as he kept me there, pinned against that warm body that saved mine from freezing. The rough hand covering my mouth smelled intoxicating, of cedarwood and musk, and with his arm circled around my middle, he held me tight. Possessive. Secure.

Then he realized I am naked. His hand traveled down my belly, touching the wild curls covering my mound, and a mix of fear and disturbing arousal shot through me. My body ached from the tightness of my muscles and my chest hurt from the freezing breath I forcefully caught before my betraying body gave me away.

Nothing made me feel like a goddamn whore more than that one single moment.

Nothing.

After everything I have been through, one would have thought that cock was the furthest damn thing from my mind. I ran from one monster and ended up in the arms of another.

But that’s the thing when you are like me, when the demons have crawled deep enough into your body and mind that nothing can get them out. You take pleasure from this.

Pleasure from the sickest moments.

Pleasure from the darkest corners of the human mind.

Pleasure from pain.

Unfortunately, the captor that I escaped did not give a shit about pleasure, even though he used that premises to lure me in. No matter how depraved I am, no matter how much of a whore I feel like right now, he never gave me this feeling. All I had was pain.

Searing fucking pain.

I watch the stranger as he leans over a fallen branch and it clicks. He wants to cover our tracks.

I am not going to argue with that. No matter where he takes me, there is no way it is worse than the dungeon I ran away from. No damn way.

I have made my decision. I will comply for now, even if he did just threaten me. Because in a new place, I can start from zero and find ways to escape. In my old one… I’ve exhausted all options.

No matter what… This is my only chance.

CHAPTER 2

HIM

I grab the branch and swoosh it around over the snow, bringing as much down as I can to cover the path I made. It doesn’t matter if it’s not leveled, in this darkness he won’t notice the difference, not with all the dips and mounds of the rough terrain.

And snow starts falling again.

I don’t need to look back to know that she’s right behind me. Taking frail, careful steps, following the path I made in the snow when I came for her.

She’s not running though. Why isn’t she running? I know I warned her not to, but still. Any woman in her right mind would have the good sense to at least try after what I said to her.

We walk back, careful not to make too much noise through the woods, but when I fail to hear the footsteps of her chaser, I stop and so does she. We stand still and wait. He probably reached the tree where I found her, realizing there’s no path anymore.

Suddenly a frail little hand touches mine and startles me. She’s pushing something into my hand, and I realize it’s a rock. I turn and look at her, at her very features for the first time.

Even in this darkness, I can see a faint spark. There’s something hidden there. Something I can’t quite place. Sorrow? Pain? Unfulfilled desires? Maybe all of them, maybe none. The darkness might be making me see things.

Either way, there’s something there and I feel a powerful sense of possessiveness over it.

Fuck…

Mentally shaking myself, I grab the rock and throw it in the distance, listening as it hits a tree. The heavy footsteps hurry in that direction and we quietly carry on with our task, covering the path that leads to my house.

It takes much longer to get back than it took me to get to her, but we have to cover our tracks properly. When the woman loses her footing behind me several times, I realize she’s not going to last much longer. I turn back and haul her over my shoulder with little protest on her part. She feels frozen under my touch as I hold her around her thighs and her frail arms try to grab onto my waist from behind.

By the time we reach the house, I bring her down into my arms, but she’s completely still. She might be dead for all I know.

I climb the steps to the porch and hurry inside, straight to the living area. I lay the woman down in front of the lit fireplace, on the thick sheepskin, and from the sofa that sits before it, I grab the fur blanket and cover her with it.

But not before I get a good look at her.

She’s not as frail as I thought, but as frightened and cold as she is, she might as well be.

Round hips and ass, nice big tits, beautiful legs and soft plump belly, are all wrapped in a deliciously curvy figure. I turn her on her side, facing the fireplace and I grunt when I notice the scars, old and new, some fresh, some soft, some deep, all over her body. It almost feels like sacrilege, marking this beautiful flesh permanently. I don’t linger though, there will be time for that later.

I notice her feet, fresh blood covering them.

After I wrap her in the blanket, I bring over a couple of wet cloths and the antiseptic cream from the downstairs bathroom. As I clean her feet, I note the battering they took as she ran through the forest. It will take a little while, but they will heal, the snow offered her some protection from the rough ground.

Still, why is she fucking naked?

I plant myself on the sofa, push my boots off and drop my feet on the coffee table, sighing in anticipation to the long fucking night ahead.

I had other plans for her when I heard the banshee-like screams. When I got a good look at her lush, soft body, my dick got even harder, but then… I had to see her scars. I had to see her fucking battered body and my plans did a 180 on me—my dick will have to wait.

At least for tonight.

But my ardent desire to rip that motherfucker’s head off with my bare hands is growing. I will find him. And he will fucking pay.

Yet, I wonder if she realizes that she ran from one monster just to end up in the clutches of a different one. I wonder…

HER

Pain, so much pain…

He is right there, at the edge of the dungeon that he calls my room, watching me as I metaphorically lick the wounds that he inflicted on me. And there, in his clutches, I see the branding iron and I’m both afraid and confused.

He watches me watch him, and even in the darkness, I can see that sleazy smile plastered all over his disgusting face.

I push myself further back until I hit the wet, cold wall behind me, and I wonder what his plan is. There’s no fire here, if there was, it wouldn’t have been so damn cold and humid all the time.

The strands of terror sear their way through my body all over again as he stalks toward me, playing with the branding iron, rotating it around in his hand, that stupid grin showing his menacing teeth.

“I know what you’re thinking, little bird… but the lack of a fire won’t stop me from using this here.” He gestures to the branding iron. “I will leave my fucking mark on you. I will use it until it’s imprinted on your skin by sheer fucking force, through cuts and bruises.”

And I believe him, oh fuck, how I believe him…

“I know that’s what you like, that’s what you crave. I can see it in your eyes, little bird, you crave the pain.”

But I don’t. Not like this… not like this…

The terror grows, the adrenaline spikes, I start shaking uncontrollably at the terrifying prospect of what’s to come and I scream… oh, how I fucking scream.

HIM

“Wake up! Wake the fuck up, woman! You’re having a nightmare! It’s okay, you’re safe!”

And that there is the first lie I’ll tell this woman. She’s not safe, not by a fucking long-shot. On this mountain, there’s no escape for her. Even if I wanted to give her the chance.

I shake her awake with more force than is necessary. She’s sweaty from the nightmare she just had, shaking like a fucking leaf in a storm, and every muscle in her body is so tight, I’m surprised her bones aren’t breaking with the sheer force of the tension.

Her eyes dart open, and for a split second I see the beauty in them before she looks down in fear.

Christ, she’s gorgeous!

She never looks at me long enough, though. It bothers me because there’s something there, something of interest, something that I want, and I need to see what it is.

I see the fidgeting and I follow her train of thought through all the possibilities she’s thinking of, right up to the point she realizes I am not the same man that she escaped from.

I can tell she wants to look around, to see where she is, but she doesn’t dare move, not even her eyes.

Should I throw her a bone? Let her relax before she realizes that meeting me might not necessarily be better than the situation she came from? She might have escaped him, but she’s in the fucking belly of the beast right now. I am the kraken and this little siren landed right between my tentacles.

“You’re okay.” I finally make my choice and throw her a metaphoric bone. “Stay there in front of the fire, you’re still cold. You need to warm up.” I get up from my knees and head to the kitchen. I press the button on the kettle and get a cup from a top cabinet before I turn around to look at her.

She’s sitting now, clutching the fur blanket for dear life against her chest, like it’s her fucking soul and she’s holding on to it. She’s watching me, but not directly. Her eyes so wide, so tense and still, like she’s calculating her chances, wondering how bad of a situation she ended up in. Wondering if she should take a shot and dart out the door now or take advantage of the fire and pick the right time later.

But she still doesn’t move.

I turn my back to her, grinning like an idiot, just to see what choice she makes. I’m not a fool, I know she heard my threat when I caught her in my arms in the woods, but it doesn’t matter. Her fate is pretty much sealed. There’s no escape, not unless I want to create it.

As I drop a teabag in the cup, I hear her shifting suddenly, running towards the hallway opposite the fireplace, where the front door is visible from her position. She runs like her fucking life depends on it, even with her battered feet, but it’s futile. Even if she’s stronger and warmer now, it takes me only a few steps to reach her and grab her petite body in my arms as she kicks and screams like a banshee.

Oh, but how that sound fuels me, how it throws kindling on the fire and the flames burn higher. How I want to pin her against the wall, rip that blanket away from her body, lift her to just the right height and shove my cock inside of her. In one thrust. To the fucking hilt.

She has no fucking clue what that sound does to me.

I put one hand on her mouth as I press her curvy, soft body to my own.

“Maybe I need to remind you that whoever you were running from might still be out there looking for you. I have a feeling he’s not very happy that you escaped, and it will be a looonnng time until he actually gives up. Am I right, little siren?”

Her kicking turns into shoving, trying to push herself away from my body and her screams have now died down to grunts. It’s not panic anymore, no, this is all her. This is her strength coming back, her survival instincts reminding her of who she used to be.

No matter. I like her better like this anyway—strong and unyielding. My dick grows even harder when the mindless fear mixes with the primal instinct, because the fight in them is even more appealing.

I love it when they scream though. I love the fucking sharp melody ripping from their throats. It fuels the fire burning around the demons lurking through my mind. She will scream for me, that delightful siren’s song, soon enough. But for now, I want her to keep her mouth shut until that motherfucker leaves my mountain.

I need to hear her story, find out who he is… who she is. I’ll get him either way, but what she tells me might make my job easier.

Before the long winter is finished, before any road access to this mountain is cleared, he’s going to be six feet fucking under.

HER

He is holding me in his arms again. One hand on my mouth and the other one pressing me into his body. Fortunately, this time around the blanket is covering my nakedness, but it does not stop me from feeling his hard cock pressed against my ass.

Why? Why is he hard all the damn time? And why the hell is my body reacting to it?

I kick and shift and I fight to get out of his arms, but he’s too strong and my wiggling seems to go in his favor since I can feel his cock pulsing against my body.

That feeling is sending a current through me and I kick harder to get out of his strong grip, fighting with my own filthy mind more than I am fighting him. I’m terrified, because I know for a fact that no good can come from my terrible cravings. My recent captivity proved it.

He did not save me; I have just been captured all over again.

“Where are you going to go, little siren?” he whispers, and his warm breath tickles my ear. “All naked and bruised, damaged inside and out. Where are you going to go?”

Where am I going to go?

On this frozen mountain, among the pines, all alone. No one cares, there’s no one out there to look for me, no one missing me. Even if there was, he is right, I am damaged… no one would care either way.

He drops me to the floor and I go straight down on my knees, scrambling to gather the blanket around my body. I sit there waiting for the punishment that I am sure will come. I expect it now, after so long enduring it, my senses are on high alert.

But the violence never comes. All I feel are the vibrations of his footsteps on the wooden floor, walking away from me.

I turn my head and watch him go back to the kitchen.

He is making tea. What a perfectly mundane task.

Perfectly illusory.

He turns and does not even glance at me as he walks back to the sofa. Like he could not care less that I’m kneeling on the floor, like I am nothing… and I am… I am nothing. Adrien almost branded it on my skin.

I watch him as he sets the tea on the coffee table, and I can’t help but pause and observe the man that captured me. He is tall, so much taller than I and built like a damn brick shithouse. He has wide shoulders and a wide chest, I can see it even through the thick red checked shirt. The jeans he is wearing are hugging his nice ass and thick thighs, even if they are a loose fit. He looks like a man built by the fucking gods, like he could kill with one hand while drinking his tea with the other.

Perfectly illusory.

I don’t get the chance to check out his features before he sits on the sofa with his back to me. I’m not even sure I want to look, especially not in his eyes.

There is something about him, something dark that makes me shiver from the inside out. And I fear that if I look in his eyes, I might see it.

“Come, little siren. The tea is for you.”

His deep, raspy voice startles me. It vibrates low in his chest with an intensity that makes me wonder what I would feel if he shouted at me. Would I piss myself from fear? Would I run or would I sit here like a good girl? Would I challenge him for more?

What the fuck is wrong with me?! Have I learned nothing?

Finally, I get up and slowly walk to him, around the sofa, on the other side of the coffee table. I kneel, still covered in the blanket, in front of the fireplace, facing him. But I don’t dare to look up.

“Drink.” His tone is deeper now, commanding.

I’m scared to drink. Too many times before there was something in my drink, something to make me more… compliant.

“I said, drink!”

I jump at the commanding tone of his voice. I feel the vibrations go straight to my core and the command makes me scramble to the coffee table in an instant. Grabbing the mug of hot tea, I scurry back in front of the fireplace, before I take my first sip.

“Good girl.”

It’s disturbing, but I like the praise. I like how it makes me feel. There was no praise before, nothing at all, no matter how much I tried to comply. All I got in return was pain, so much pain.

I feel his eyes on me, so intensely watching my every move, and I try to suppress the need to look up, to look at him. I’m too scared, I do not want to know what he looks like. I do not want his features to match his warm, deep voice. I do not want to like it.

Most of all, I do not want to look into his eyes.

No matter what the tongue speaks, no matter how the body moves, the eyes will always tell the truth. I never fail to see the monster lurking behind them.

Too bad the last time I saw the monster, it was too late.

I drink from the mug of tea and it’s surprisingly good. Chamomile sweetened with honey. It’s delicious. I cannot taste anything foreign in it, no hidden substance.

“Drink, then lay down and go to sleep. It’s still the middle of the night.”

I look around me, eyes low on the floor. I am still in the living area, where am I supposed to sleep?

“Here?” I whisper. My voice comes out surprisingly rough, like I have not spoken in weeks.

“Yes. In front of the fire. You need the warmth.”

I look behind me at the fireplace and I suppose this would not be the worst thing. My last dungeon felt like a cave, cold and damp stone walls surrounding me. This dungeon is different, warm and cozy. Rather idyllic.

But it is still a dungeon. I must not forget—it is still a dungeon.

HIM

I look at her, really look at her, even though she’s cowering away from me. She hasn’t looked up once, she doesn’t dare to meet my eyes and I can’t help but wonder why. Is it submission? Or is it fear?

But even if I haven’t seen her eyes yet, I still know that she’s beautiful. Dirty and cold, battered and bruised, but beautiful. She has round, high cheeks, pale skin, beautifully defined lips and dark brown hair, almost black, matted from the cold and snow. She looks… innocent, but her response to my touch in the woods tells me she’s anything but.

Now, every little sound makes her twitch. The ticking of the wall clock, the wind outside the windows, even if I take a deeper breath. What happened to her? What did that motherfucker do to transform her into this meek little girl? Or has she always been this way? Somehow, I doubt that.

I find myself angry and I can’t quite understand why. I doubt I’m better than that man, I doubt I’m gentler, but somehow I feel a pull to her that makes me want to avenge her.

“What happened to you?”

She twitches yet again.

I wait, but she says nothing. She looks like she’s pondering the question, but it’s not cryptic, no underlying fucking messages. It’s a simple goddamn question.

“Little siren, tell me what happened to you.” My tone of voice gets more demanding, but she doesn’t seem to have any intention to open her pretty little mouth.

Fuck this!

I get up and in two long strides I’m right in front of her. She drops the empty mug and scrambles backwards, shifting fast from the sheepskin to the rough wooden floor, all clumsy and scared, until she hits the wall, the blanket now long gone.

She pulls her knees to her chest, shaking violently, and as I watch her with an annoyance that I can’t suppress, I know one thing for certain—I’m gonna rip that motherfucker’s head off with my bare hands.

HER

I find myself angry and I can’t quite understand why. I doubt I’m better than that man, I doubt I’m gentler, but somehow I feel a pull to her that makes me want to avenge her.

“What happened to you?”

She twitches yet again.

I wait, but she says nothing. She looks like she’s pondering the question, but it’s not cryptic, no underlying fucking messages. It’s a simple goddamn question.

“Little siren, tell me what happened to you.” My tone of voice gets more demanding, but she doesn’t seem to have any intention to open her pretty little mouth.

Fuck this!

My Kind of Monster

a dark romance

I wanted to give in to the hunger…
Niklas Bergman stalked in the shadows of the silent woods, a depraved hunter… and I am his prey. I traded one captor that broke my body and soul, for one that threatens to break not only my heart, but the walls that contain the darkness that lives inside of me. He is a beautiful monster, everything I searched for before my capture, the only one that understands my secrets and I fear my heart and mind will not survive him.
I am a monster, I am a monster… I was a monster…
Suki Knoxx hides a legacy of blood and I will drown her in it myself if that’s what she needs to embrace it. I wanted to use her — no limits, consequences or remorse — but when I set my eyes on her, broken and abused, her enemy became mine. Now I can’t let her go, not until I break her open. Her darkness calls to mine, her demons dance on heathen songs sung by my own and sometimes… prey wants to be prey.

Info

Standalone novel. There is no cheating and it ends in a happily ever after.

Tropes

✦ mountain man
✦ snowed in
✦ primal desires
✦ dubious consent
✦ non consent
✦ knife and blood play
✦ primal desires
✦ forced proximity
✦ revenge
✦ captive/captor
✦ vigilante anti-hero
✦ who hurt you
✦ unhinged FMC

Content warnings

✦ graphic violence
✦ torture
✦ murder
✦ dubious consent
✦ non-consent
✦ injuries
✦ blood
✦ kidnapping
✦ memories of sexual violence
✦ physical, emotional, and psychological abuse
✦ death of family member including a child
✦ grief
Sexual kinks and fetishes (primal, impact, knife, and blood play, edging, bondage) are also present, however they are not meant to be a representation of BDSM, therefore no safe words or agreements regarding limits are present.

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