Lies of My Monster (Monster Trilogy, #2)

by Rina Kent

I certainly can’t fucking sleep. One, it was distracting when she hugged me in her sleep and even threw her leg over mine in some sort of territorial ownership. My Sasha might seem naïve, but there’s an animal inside her, too—like in all of us—and that animal needs to stake a claim. I might have marked her skin red and left bruises and hickeys all over her tits, stomach, and inner thighs, but she left her own marks. They’re invisible and lurk beneath the skin, but they’re so powerful in their softness, so…irritably persistent. Sasha didn’t have to physically cockblock me for these past months, but my cock still refused to touch any other woman but her. That’s probably why I nearly broke her earlier. I had to remind myself that she was kidnapped and nearly assaulted yesterday. My negotiating skills with my cock’s beastly side came to a staggering halt when she submitted to everything I dished out to her. I warned her that I wasn’t going to hold back, but she stood there, looking at me with the same desire that twisted my guts. It doesn’t matter how much I try to stay away from her, if she gives me that look, all my resolve vanishes. I stroke my fingers through her hair, then pause. What the fuck am I doing? There’s always this need to touch her, whether during or outside of sex, and I’m not the type who does any sentimental shit. I fuck, and only to satisfy a physical need. I don’t get off on wooing women or landing a pussy, but all of those principles have changed drastica...