Page 21 of Scream for Me

“You’re my home.”

I kiss his mouth. It’s the first time, and difficult around his fangs, but not any less amazing.

“Well, let’s hope they don’t try to eat us,” Scully says, taking a step toward the village and townsfolk, seeming eager to greet us.

I shrug. “Hey, having people who want to eat you is not so bad.”

“Only I get to eat you,” he replies.

“I’ll let them know.”

“Good.” He smiles.

I squint my eyes against the sun, my cheeks hurting from the happiness etched across my face and follow my monster to our new home.

Chapter 17: Scully

Istill enjoy the darkness. I don’t think that part of me will ever leave, and I’m grateful my new role allows me to indulge in my past affliction. There are parts of me that will never change, and as I sniff the forest air, catching her from beyond the border, my mind washes blank, just like before. I roar, racing through the foliage, pushing past the spindly trees and brush. I step past the darkness, and sunlight coats my fur, but it doesn’t deter me; if anything, it urges me along as a symbol of her nearness.

The smell grows stronger with each step, blinding me to reason. Even in this state, I could stop myself, take calming breaths, but I have no desire. Only for her flesh on my lips, for her screams in my ear. It’s been too long. I can’t even remember the last time I heard the sweet melody. Perhaps last night? An unacceptable length of absence.

Noises from the town are barely a whisper as I race along the barrier, the darkness always close by. A billow of smoke snakes through the sky in front of me, a signal of my prey. A small cottage comes into view, but I don’t bother bursting through the door. The smell wouldn’t be so powerful if she were inside. I race toward the place she spends all her time on a clear day, the gated flower garden at the back of the small dwelling.

Her aroma nearly knocks me off my feet, and as I spot her, seated among the lilies, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, I can tell why. She’s been soaking in her juices, pickling around her sweetness, all for me. Sitting in the sun and wafting her fumes for every beast nearby to enjoy. I should punish her for being such a temptation.

I roar, and her blue eyes pull away from the bulb halfway dug into the earth and lock on mine. She stands. “Scully, do not…” she doesn’t finish, but picks up her white skirts and moves away from me as I barrel through the thin fence, sending shards of wood through the air.

“Come on! You just repaired that from last time!” she yells over her shoulder, increasing her speed and jumping over her rows of flowers. I may only have my animal instincts guiding me, but her love for her garden is enough to make me tread carefully so I don’t harm her flowers. I’m cautious even if I don’t slow.

She jumps over the low gate, her sunshine hair trailing behind her in a loose braid. With each movement, strands escape the intricate design, causing more of her to drift up my nostrils. I’m dizzy with hunger, but I push forward, increasing my speed, even if I’m still hindering myself to allow her the lead. It’s no fun to chase her if I catch her right away.

She runs up a hill, grunting with the incline, but she doesn’t slow down. Her elbows pump to propel her forward. “Scully, I’m making a pie!” she yells, the sound making its way to me behind her. “It’s cooling on the windowsill.” She stops, turns to me, now in the protection of an array of trees in the valley at the base of the hill. She waves her hands in front of her chest and takes small steps backwards. I slow as well, stalking her. Her face is flushed, and her chest heaves with violent breaths. “It’s rhubarb. Your favorite.”

I find my voice, the sound of it coming out so foreign to me. “Do you think I will change my mind for pie?”

She bundles her skirt again, probably realizing I can’t be deterred. “And vanilla ice cream?”

I pretend to contemplate. “I would rather have you instead.” I charge toward her. She screams and turns to run again, but I’m too fast, pulling her to the ground underneath me. I don’t press all my weight down on her, pulling away slightly onto my knees. She takes the opportunity to crawl away from me, her ass hitting my crotch, already hard and wet, and my attachers searching the air for their haven.

I swoop an arm around her chest, pulling her back to me. “Trying to get away,” I say through gritted teeth over the shell of her ear. “You know it only makes me want you more when you struggle.” It’s the truth. She loves this game, and she’s playing her part perfectly. I may be a monster, but she wouldn’t have me any other way. It’s why I have no hesitation in slicing the threading between the leather material of her corset with one hand and with the other hiking her skirt over her ass and running my fingers through the sopping wet velvet between her legs. Her breasts pop free into my hand, moist and pebbled as I knead them. I can’t wait to milk her one day, to drink the sweet liquid that will bead at her nipples when she’s full of our children.

She moans quietly behind closed lips. Her heart pounds against my hand, and she still fights me, even as I position my tip at her wet entrance. My attachers grab her, and she can’t suppress the sob this time. She cries out as she falls to the ground. My path is still clear, and I don’t waste time thrusting inside of her, hard and fast, giving her no time to brace herself. She screams for me again, loud and glorious.

“Aren’t you glad I wanted you more than a pie?” I ask, holding myself up on outstretched arms. Her face is smashed into the green grass, and she arches her back, her ass raised and welcoming me. I pull out again, my attachers stretch, and I pound into her, knocking her forward.

“It’s good pie,” she stutters around the words.

I tsk. “Still so fresh, even when I’m fucking the shit out of you.” I go harder, pumping inside of her without caution, using her in the way she desires. She screams in a matter of seconds as I bottom out, filling her all the way through. The world washes around me. Power surges in my veins, and every bone melts into pure pleasure. I burst inside of her, coating every inch of her hot walls. My knot grows, and she moans again as I stretch her more.

I blanket her, careful not to let my weight drop. Now that I’m empty and my mind has cleared, I wish we were somewhere more comfortable. She’s fertile, that’s what I smelled through the woods. We talked about this the month before—we’re ready for a child. I’m thankful for my knot to help keep my seed inside of her and hope that it lasts longer than usual to do so, but I also don’t want my love pressed against the grass, ass up and uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” I ask, brushing hair behind her ear.

She chuckles, her eyes closed. “Yes. Of course.”

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just funny that after fucking me like a ragdoll, you caress me and care for my comfort. Back to my Kitty, like always.”