Page 69 of Their Fierce Little Monster

Finally, he dresses her, and I keep glancing down at our friend in the shadows, but these two are distracting me. The longer I watch them fit so well together, the sharper the jealousy cuts through me.

My hands, mouth, and cock should be on her, not fucking his!

There’s movement beneath me, and I shoot a glare over the railing because I’m losing focus. They haven’t moved. By the time I glance up, she’s tugging his shirt down over his chest, and they’re finally dressed. About damn time!

Being this obsessed with Dawn already is a rarity. It usually takes me much longer to get mental over a girl, yet the inferno inside me rages to the point where I’ll lose my mind. And now with images of her naked ingrained in my brain, I’ll never be the same again.

She sits on the edge of the bed and talks softly, but I only catch the words “…you were so…” before he steps in front of her and the rest is lost to me.

You were an ordinary lover, and your cock was rather small.

I grin, groping my beast over my pants. She’s everything to me.

Corvin’s babbling about something and tosses his head with laughter. He must be chortling at his own stupid joke.

I’m Corvin. I love the sound of my own voice, and I have a stick up my ass permanently.

Next thing, he scoops up her hand, and they’re leaving the room.

The shadow moves.

Corvin reaches for the door, and the intruder lunges. But I’m already leaping over the railing and throwing myself toward him. I land literally on top of the fucker, my boots colliding into his back, flattening him onto his face. The air punches out of what sounds like a man as he releases a grunt.

It all happens in a second.

Corvin pauses.

I’m already hauling the asshole by the shirt into the shadows, hand clamped over his mouth, the other hand driving a fist into his ribs. He flinches, but I hold him steady as Corvin turns toward the room, and we’re swallowed by darkness. I don’t want Dawn to see this, so I remain silent.

Show me you’re the fighter you claim to be. Do you see the danger?

After a few seconds, he opens the door and walks out with my girl.

Finest warrior ever. Can’t even sense an assassin stalking you in the shadows. But no worries, I got your back, asshole.

Then I shove the piece of shit out of my arms. He stumbles forward and falls onto his hands and knees.

“You fucking son of a bitch,” I growl, marching after him and snatching him by the nape of his neck. I wrench him backward. But he swings an elbow aiming for my jewels. I instantly pivot my hips to the side, his bony strike clipping me in the thigh.

I hiss, the ache biting into muscle as he rips from my grip and whips back around, moving swiftly. “Who the fuck are you?” I snap.

But he already grabs the blade off the floor and comes for me without a word. He slashes it at my chest with a wide sweep, the tip hissing past with inches to spare.

He’s damn fast. And he returns, jabbing the blade at my face. I slam my fist into his arm, then seize his wrist and bend it backward hard.

A crack of bone pops, and it’s incredibly satisfying.

He cries out, the blade dropping. Wasting no time, I step in and smash my forehead into his face.

Dropping to his knees, he howls, grasping his face. “You fucking asshole,” he mutters behind his fabric mask.

“You tried to attack my girl with a blade? What the fuck did you think was going to happen? And you still owe me both your eyes for daring to stare at her naked body.”

But despite his injuries, he scrambles to his feet, staggering at first. He’s got another blade, and fuck knows where he pulled it from. Then he charges, but I duck his attack and bury a fist in his gut. As he groans, I quickly spin toward him, driving another fist into an uppercut that slams under his chin.

His teeth crack and his knees crumple. He drops, as does his knife.

I grab his shirt and haul him toward me, turning him away from me in the same move. I lock an arm around his throat and squeeze.