Games with the Orc (Monster Smash Agency, #1)

by Kathryn Moon

Why did people always want to be loved for who they could be? Didn't it make more sense to be loved for who you already were?

I'd spent almost three years trimming little pieces of myself away to fit into a life with Harry. Not because he'd asked me to, but because I was scared of what I secretly wanted.

Secret moments of touching myself to these thoughts, finding guilty release in fantasies and not my actual partner, had not just been something to imagine, to cope with boredom, but real cravings. I'd wasted years—for Harry and for myself—but not a lifetime.

"You said, not really. Women spend too much time pretending to be comfortable."

"You surrendered to my control, now surrender to my care too," he said, but it was gentler than the commands he'd made in the basement.

"I'm going to fuck you right out of your sanity tonight, little one," I rasped in her ear.

"I'm going to have you so many times, you won't know what's waking and dreaming tomorrow. I'm going to take my fantasies out on you tonight."

"Soft little goddess," Khell'ar murmured, pushing my legs slightly apart and petting at the wet release clinging to my cunt, sliding his fingers through the mess. He didn't bother retracting his claws, and I shivered as they teased my scorching and sensitive flesh. "Goddesses must be worshipped, petal. Even by beasts."

"Be my pretty deity, petal. For your cunt is divine, and so is your mouth. Because you sing like an angel as you come on my cock and make me see the heavens."

"I must taste every part of my goddess, petal. I am a hungry devotee,"

"No. I like you awake as you come and call my name. But I don't mind you holding still and taking it like a good girl."

He always used that word carefully. Mates were allowed to decorate their partners homes. Mates got to sleep in and were fed breakfast by hand. Mates found their laundry dry and folded hours after they'd forgotten it in the washing machine. Being “petal” was playful and naughty and sweet. Being “mate” was being cared for and reminded of belonging. I loved both roles.