17

Kaitlyn

The pounding on my door rattles my brothers' picture against the wall. Why be annoyed when it's the delivery guy who wants to make things right? When my pizza came, he was so frazzled I didn't have the heart to scold him over my missing bag of breadsticks. Pimply teen probably bounces with joy on my porch to fulfill my order and maintain his five-star rating. I throw open the door and inhale a noseful of vanilla with my gasp.

"Is this our fourth dyla weturanya?" Serik asks, leaning over the threshold. He holds the top of the doorframe with miles of furry muscles blocking the light from the parking lot. His blue eyes seem to glow against his dark shadow. He's every inch the monster I thought he was.

"This is a furnished rental from the university," I say as if those words mean anything to him. Shock glues my feet to the carpet. How is he casually standing in the middle of my apartment complex? My arms freeze in place. I'm not a grown-ass woman with an ex-boyfriend on her porch. The little girl in me, terrified of getting in trouble and going to the principal's office, rises to take charge…and she's out of her depth. "Come in before someone sees you."

"Do I smell human food?" He asks as he takes the door from my hands and slams it shut behind him. His claws score the top of the couch as he prowls around my tiny place. I thought his home was confining, but now realize it's his size that makes every space smaller. "Serve us, mate. I wish to try human food."

Serve?Wait a damn minute. Does he think he can waltz in here and ask me to serve him my pizza? I haven't had pizza in months! Even my brothers know they must fight to pry cold slices from my French-tipped claws before they get a bite.

"You ran hundreds of miles for a slice of pizza? Why didn't you call for a delivery of your own and save yourself the trip?" I fold my arms so he can't see my hands shaking. This isn't sweet Serik who gave me a crocus to ask for a new beginning. This is the Serik who maimed or killed gangsters to haul my ass to his underground lair.

"And miss out on the fun?" His toothy grin sends a chill down my spine—and not the fearful kind. "Oh, my dear, chernyrozd, you forget who's your male. I'm not the mate to loosen the tether, so you can collect what you need from the human world. I'm not the mate to sit quietly and pine after you while you discover I'm the one in your own time."

"Serik, why are you here?" I'll never admit to anyone how much I want to investigate his idea of fun. In my climate-controlled apartment with tons of soft surfaces and lube, we could have a whole lot of fun…but that would mean committing to him and his lifestyle.

"Because I'm tired of being the lonely, dumb Chuchunya," he says with a growl. I press my thighs together to conceal my inappropriate response to his noise. The toothy smirk I get in return tells me I've failed to hide my arousal from him. "I want to feel the water humans can bring from the walls. I want to see your cold storage boxes that freeze water solid. The lights without batteries, the vehicles without beasts, and the food you don't kill are things I want to experience. I want to learn things the others don't know."

"You want to be special," I murmur. Maybe his pilgrimage has nothing to do with me.

"My teeth are what make me special," he sneers. "I want power and knowing the secrets of the humans makes a clan member powerful."

"So, you ran here to demonstrate your power over me in hopes that I'd teach you about indoor plumbing?"

"No, I chased my mate," he says with a swipe of his tongue over his fangs. "My mate ran to test her male. She ran because she didn't believe I would chase her."

He tosses my sticky, soiled pajama pants on my couch, followed by Vera's phone.

"Wait, you ran hundreds of miles, holding my pajamas?" Part lovesick hero and part sniffing stalker, Serik used a phone and my scent to track me. My last boyfriend didn't follow me off campus when my job took me to satellite lab locations. He said it was disruptive to his life. Serik abandoned his life on a whim. It shouldn't warm my chest to know Serik would run barefoot to the ends of the earth to find me.

"I assumed I would have to steal Adam's star finder box. Thank you for picking a weaker target to share your location. Vera is much easier to—"

"You didn't hurt her, did you?" I lift my eyes from the splotches of semen on my defiled pajamas to meet his gaze. The feral creature I find behind those blue eyes should scare me to death. Why do tiny thrills dance up and down my spine? "I'm sorry. I know you would never hurt the mate of a clansman."

"Do you? I don't," he says, flopping onto my couch. The frame groans as his large body tests my furniture's strength. "Vera's fine, but where you are concerned, I have no limits. I'd burn the world to ashes, so you couldn't hide in the rubble. If a male's scent was in here, I'd enjoy slaughtering him."

"Thank goodness for garlic," I quip, sitting on the chair across from him. This apartment is on loan from the university. The last resident could have been male. I have no way of knowing. I open the pizza box, dislodge an extra cheesy slice, and do something I've never done.

I share. I offer my unhinged, snow monster boyfriend the first slice.

"Pizza," I over enunciate like a second language teacher. "Pizza is what Sydney and Vera say they miss most about the human world."

"Pizza," he repeats with a hiss on the ‘z.' His teeth block the ‘za' sound in a way that makes the mundane word sound exotic. He sniffs the crust and smiles. Yeah, Serik, I know it's the food of the gods.

He feeds me the first bite of his piece. As I chew, he runs his tongue over the half-moon where my teeth touched the food. His bite is a third of a slice and the sexiest thing I've witnessed. His eyes roll back as he hums. I can't help but imagine him wearing that expression as he sinks into me.

"I like pizza," he says around his mouthful. "I love feeding you pizza."

"This is what humans call a date. You share a meal with someone you like," I explain to give him another verbal gift.

"Is a date a mating ritual?"

"No," I say, reaching for my own slice. His growl is a warning I ignore. He feeds me too slowly. I smirk at him as I curl my tongue around an olive about to roll off and pop it into my mouth. "A date is what you do before you decide if the other person will be a pleasure mate. You get to know them on dates, so you can make an informed decision."

"Brilliant," he says, swallowing another huge bite. "If I had these dates with my pleasure mates, maybe I could have saved my heart from them."

I nod as he chews thoughtfully because the inflection at the end of his sentence suggests there's more.

"But you are no pleasure mate," he says, dropping the remainder of his piece into the box. "I won't pretend my cock's not straining for you. I won't pretend I came here to get to know you. I. Know. My. Mate."

With quick fingers, he grabs my slice by the crust, but I hold fast. Growing up with two brothers, I anticipated having to defend my pizza. You would think twelve slices could be divided evenly amongst three kids, but not when two of them are pigs. I'll fight for my fair share. If Serik thought he could wrestle my food away to take it, lick where I bite, or feed it to me, he's sorely mistaken.

My blunt teeth slide over his fur as I bite his wrist. Sauce splatters onto my shirt as the crust tears between our fingers. The cheese is too cold to pull into strings. The congealed mass hangs precariously. I'm too focused on saving the cheese to register his next move.

His claw rakes down the neckline of my blouse, through the elastic of my leggings, and opens my outfit from my shoulders to my knee. The cheesy mass of toppings drops onto the carpet as I look down at his handiwork and absorb his wild smile.

His aggression was never about the food.

"Run," he whispers. "Run, so your mate can chase you."

Relinquishing my pizza crust, I lift off the seat to fake left before launching myself to the right. The rip of my shirt from my body fills the apartment. I tuck my hands under my arms to stop my breasts from slapping my ribs. How was I to know to wear a sports bra? I didn't expect to run around my living room! My stomach growls as I leave our meal behind. The only other room is the bathroom, and I'm not trapping myself in there. I circle toward the kitchen in hopes that I can lose him behind the table.

As I dive between the chairs to scramble underneath, he snags the shredded leg of my pants to tear them from my body. The mushroom growing logs rattle as they hit the rocking tabletop. My booty shorts hang off my butt as the leggings catch on my hips. I pop up between the table and the window, taking a moment to hitch up my underpants. Serik's gaze focuses on my chest as everything upstairs jiggles. The advantage is too much to resist. I dart to the left, hoping to run to the door.

Do I dare run outside topless with a snow monster chasing me?

What will the neighbors think?

As I contemplate indecent exposure laws, Serik's arm wraps around my waist. I'm hauled against his warm chest. His monster cock rubs against my low back. He nuzzles his nose against my neck and inhales loudly. His other hand toys with my nipple rings. Each tug and roll send pleasure through my veins. I whimper and rise onto my toes.

His answering growl rattles my bones and soaks my panties.

"I smell your need," he whispers.

"I'm not consenting to anything, Serik." I say between gulps of air. "I can't be what you want."

"Yes, you are," he says with an evil chuckle. Does he mean I'm consenting when I'm not consenting or that I will be what he wants? He's not listening to my words, but reading my physical cues instead.

It shouldn't be so hot to be handled by a male who knows the kinks I'm unwilling to admit I have. He caresses down the front of my body with brutal pressure. I suck my belly in to hide my insecurity, but Serik is having none of my nonsense. He grabs the roll of fat under my belly button and squeezes while grinding his erection harder.

"Don't hide my prize," he growls against my shoulder before clamping onto my flesh. His teeth break my skin as my wail echoes off my thin plaster walls.

He claws my favorite red undershorts into ribbons. The tatters join the drops of arousal we've dripped onto the floor. I wish the stains were all his, but I can't lie to myself anymore. I'm so wet, his two giant fingers slide inside of me with ease—even before his thumb starts its maddening circles. My calves burn as I grind against his thrusts. I collect his fluids on my back in a primal marking. It resonates with my most secret need…to belong to someone.

"Serik," I whine, my ass rubbing up and down his length. I don't know if I'm asking to be released from his hold or to release the orgasm building in my lower belly. His answer is a third finger slipping inside me. He bends and flexes his hand within my folds to stretch me. Fear and anticipation war inside my brain as I realize what he plans.

I'm thrown over the back of my couch. My head bumps the cushion where he sat moments ago. He manhandles me into position as if I'm a dainty pixie. My feet dangle off the ground with futile kicks to regain control. His claws dig into my inner thighs as he pries my legs apart as far as my muscles allow.

"I'll enjoy feasting on this cunt all zima season." His breath fans over my opening. The cool air rushing over my drenched tissues sends shivers over my body. "But you must learn to whom you belong today."

His tip notches against my entrance. I gasp and tense for the invasion. With one quick thrust, he buries himself inside me. He moans as he bottoms out. His fingers work their way from my thighs to my butt, where he kneads my flesh like dough. I test my vaginal muscles around his girth for tears, pain, or signs of injury. My hand tentatively reaches under my body to trace our bodies' connection.

Bastard fits perfectly…except for his arrogant chuckle… "Mine."

My hand runs his length as he withdraws from me. His tip stays inside as he waits for me to finish my examination. I palpate my inner labia to verify they are puffy with arousal, not inflammation. He growls when I rub my clit to ensure it's not split in two.

"Your pleasure is mine to give," he whispers as he snatches my hand away.

I'm punished with a hard thrust to connect us again. He grinds against me before repeating the move. Faster and faster, he alternates, pounding me and swiveling his hips to wreck me. I play with my nipples as I swing upside down. My vaginal muscles clench and release on their own, as if hugging their chosen male. All yesterday's important reasons to leave him fade to nothing with each affirmation. We were made for each other. My climax hits me like a ton of bricks, and I scream into the couch.

"That's it, chernyrozd, hold me inside you," he says in his filthy, growly voice. "Take what is yours as I mark you inside as mine."

I buck harder than him, enjoying the abrasive fabric against my overly sensitive skin. His knot rubs as his shallow thrusts hint at what I could have. I prickle from head to toe. If I were more adventurous, I could try to wedge his knot against me, locking us together and milking him for every drop of his devotion to me. His next swivel pinches my clit between his knot and the furniture, and the bite of pain fires off a second orgasm like a rocket. He answers with a gush of fluid that splashes out of me between thrusts and dribbles down my thighs. I am marked and forever changed. It's time to stop fighting what Serik knew from the moment he smelled me.

I'm his.