Page 2 of Enchanting Her Monsters
My other, more permanent ghost, Osen, slides forward in my mind, but I don’t want to deal with him either, so I throw up a mental wall and demand,“Is this a life or death conversation?”
“Uh, no,”he mutters.
“Then fuck off… for now, okay?”
Thankfully, he fades into the background again.
Forgetting my ghostly audience for now, I turn my attention to the person who should have it.
My berserker is slowly grinding into me, giving me his entire release so his knot will subside.
I glance over my shoulder and watch as the berserker version shifts into his human form.
“Jade!” he shouts.
“Arran!”
He fists my hair and guides my mouth over my shoulder to meet his lips. He claims me all over again. Our tongues tangle, and his shallow thrusts become more urgent.
Breaking the kiss, he nuzzles the spot where my neck and my shoulder meet—where he bit me. “Goddess, Jade. I never thought…” His voice cracks with emotion. “We’re really… Is this real? Are you mine?”
“Yes, my sweet Arran, my wolfy, my Serky.”
He chuckles lightly. “Serky… for berserker?”
“He deserves a name, too.”
“I suppose he does. Thank you, my sweet witch.” His duller human teeth scrape over my flesh. “For the first time in my life I feel blessed.” Deft fingers slide down my soft stomach and then find my sensitive bundle of nerves like a heat-seeking missile.
I cry out with pleasure as he works my body.
“My perfect love,” he mumbles over and over. “I will never stop claiming you, Jade.”
My body quivers with his words and his ministrations. The bliss he’s driving me toward barrels at me.
I shatter into the universe. Stars go supernova. I’m blasted to the far ends of time, then I’m reassembled around Arran’s perfect instrument of mass pleasure. I coalesce as someone who has their person.
I arch into Arran’s powerful body as he shouts through his release.
He collapses against my back, breathing hard.
Fortunately, his arm braces me against him, while the other props us up from the forest floor. He leans back on his heels and slips free.
Arran turns me on his lap and cups my face with his other hand.
“Sorry,” he laughs, “I made a mess of you. You’re covered in dirt.”
“Worth it.” I smile wide, and I’m sure I look dreamy eyed. “Mud wrestling at its finest.”
“I don’t want to return to the others, but I know you need your rest after all you’ve been through lately.”
“I understand your possessiveness, but I doubt I’ll get much rest out here.”
Arran doesn’t let go of me. Instead, he lifts me in his arms and carries me back.
I silently call out again to see if the ghost is still lingering.“Abuela, was that really you?”
I hear a long-suffering sigh. Great. Now I know it’s my grandmother. Other than Osen, who would sigh at me like that?
