Escaping the Friendzone (Monsters of Moonvale, #3)

by Emily Antoinette

She’s never shown even a hint of interest in me, and I’m not interested in making her uncomfortable. Unless it’s a consensual kind of discomfort. Great, now I’m thinking about spanking her luscious ass. Dude, get a hold of yourself!

Fucking hell, the world is so cruel to women. That this goddess worries that even I’ll judge her food choices makes me see red.

I cry out as he grabs my belly again, taking a moment to knead it with a deep groan. His manhandling feels exciting rather than embarrassing with the new context, though still taboo. All my life, I’ve been taught to hate my fupa. When I was a pre-teen, the boy I had a crush on asked me if I was pregnant. My mom only bought me swimsuits that had an attached skirt or wrap so the cut of the leg wouldn’t reveal the roll where my stomach meets my thighs. Magazines provided infinite exercises and diets to target a stubborn low belly. It’s a part of me that’s supposed to be pointedly ignored, not appreciated.

“You’re beautiful, Ari.” A feeble laugh escapes me. “You must have a fat fetish.” His eyes dart back to meet mine, and he shakes his head. “Not really. Yes, I find fat women attractive, but it’s not an exclusive preference. I love your softness because it’s yours. Touching your stomach turns me on because it’s a part of you.”

Tears pour from me as something deep inside me releases. “How is this real?” I don’t mean to ask the question that’s been on loop in my mind aloud, but it tumbles out anyway. He reaches up to brush away some of the moisture with his thumb, then cups my cheek. “Good question, angel. I’ve got no clue how I got to be so damn lucky, but I’m sure as hell going to embrace it.”

He smiles softly. “I told you. It’s my job to make you feel good, baby girl. It’s your job to trust me to take care of you.”

But there’s that nagging worry that society programs into people with pussies—the one that tells us our genitals are somehow shameful or gross, even though our worth is so often reduced to what’s between our legs.

“You ready for it, baby girl? Once I start, I’m not gonna be able to stop using you until you’re dripping with my cum.” She turns to look back at me over her shoulder with a slight frown. “What do you mean? You’ve been fucking me.” A dark laugh erupts from deep in my chest. I press back inside her, moving slowly so she feels every inch of my cock dragging against her channel as I speak. “That wasn’t fucking, angel. Fucking is when I’m slamming into you so hard that you don’t know where your body ends and mine begins. I’m not a man, Ari. I’m a monster. I’m going to rut inside you like a beast and breed your tight human pussy. It’s time for daddy to take what he needs. So, I’ll ask you again. Are you ready for it?”

“That’s all I am to you? A pretty cocksleeve?” I shrug. “Not just that.