Page 44 of Their Fierce Little Monster

“It’s as though you’re a weapon.”

“Exactly what I’m built for.”

She clears her throat, diverting her attention to my wound. “Let me clean your cut, as you’re still bleeding.”

So I tip my head back, giving her full access, smiling, and I notice her staring at my sharpened canines too. She’s not running away screaming, so I take it that she’s impressed.

“I appreciate you playing nurse,” I admit out loud.

She tenderly dabs at my cut. “Well, I’m guessing I’m partly to blame, seeing as you were arguing about me.” Her lips pinch at the side, and I need to know what she tastes like. “But to be clear, I don’t belong to you or Corvin.”

“Is that because you belong to Kazak?”

“You’re wrong. I’m no one’s. Anyway, hold the towel there.” She frowns, pressing the material against my throat.

I follow her instructions. “That’s fair enough.” Yet desperation pours through me to make her mine, hear her scream, and remind her that everyone belongs to someone. And against all my better judgment, in that moment, I want her to be mine.

She moves to check the drawers and cupboards in the bathroom, my sight on how tightly her clothes follow her curves. She sighs. “There’s nothing I can use to help disinfect or bandage the wound. Perhaps we just wait for it to stop bleeding.”

“You could lick it,” I suggest, watching her intently.

She slowly lifts her gaze to me. “What? I don’t think so!”

I shrug. “Up to you, but your saliva speeds up the healing.” I offer her my innocent expression, hoping she sees I’m not fooling around. “Your bloodline has some healing properties, but I guess you wouldn’t know that.” I lower the towel and offer her my throat as an open invitation. “Come on, Dawn. Lick me, for medicinal purposes, of course.”

She scrunches up her nose. “Hell no.” And I’d be lying if I said her rejection didn’t sting. “Who knows what your blood would do to me.”

“Honestly, nothing, unlike how powerful my cum is for someone like you.” A grin tugs my lips upward, and she just shakes her head. “Oh, you’ve already found that out,” I purr. “Let me guess—Kazak? What happened?”

“Nope, we’re not talking about this.” She rushes out of the bathroom, and for a long moment, I assume she’s not returning. Then she emerges, carrying a small cluster of tiny round bottles that have various-colored liquid sloshing about inside. She sets them on the sink and pops open the lid on one, then sniffs it. “Yep, this is alcohol. We’ll use it to disinfect the wound, then the towel as a bandage.”

“I love how much you care for me.”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s just what anyone would do,” she answers, stepping closer.

“Trust me,” I say. “That’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

“Anyway, this might sting a bit.”

“Bring on the pain,” I say as she uses her fingers to lift my chin to give herself access.

“You’re strange, you know.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Then she pours the blue bottle over my wound. It stings sharply, and I clench my teeth, breathing in the flowery and alcoholic smell. My hands fall to her hips before I can control myself.

She stiffens, drawing in gasps, but she doesn’t pull away either.

“You’d make an amazing pet,” I whisper.

“Fuck you!” she sneers, jerking back, but my grip tightens around her hips.

“Dawn, it’s meant as a sweet word back home. Pet is an endearing term for those we find particularly attractive.”

She rolls her eyes. “If you say so. Here, it’s more like ownership.”

I shrug, as it sounds close enough, but I let her go.