The Monster

"Sir? Could you please talk to me? Is this your only injury? May I see your arm?"

It was no use. He wouldn't budge. She knew better than to try to touch him without his consent. If he was on drugs, or if he had some psychological mess going on, he could strike out at her. She would have to either wait until he was willing to talk or get Kyle to try to get through to him. She started to turn to leave.

His hand shot out, grabbing her arm and spinning her back to him. The other hand gripped her other arm, pinning her to the spot. She stared, unbelieving, at the man before her.

The man with green skin and lavender eyes.

She opened her mouth to scream and a hand clamped down over her mouth. He shook his head and clicked his tongue as if chastising her. The phantom of her childhood, the thing that had come to her in a dream, held her sharp green eyes as he smiled evilly.

The hand clamped over her mouth released her. Rough fingers stroked down her face and settled around the back of her neck. He drew her closer, framing her smaller body between his legs and pulling her face close to his. She felt herself melt, and a distant part of her wondered why she wasn't fighting him. Because this is my savior, she thought. This is who kept me safe.

His full lips grazed hers and she closed her eyes and sighed. His legs wrapped around her middle, trapping her against him. She felt his hardness pressed up against her belly. He lowered his head to the nape of her slender neck, gripping the back of her skull. Abruptly, he clamped down on tender skin, sharp teeth biting hard enough to break skin. The spell was broken, and she started screaming. Again, a hand clamped over her mouth, and he spoke into her ear, low and soft. "I'm coming for you," he said. She pushed away from him as the security guard stomped into the room, a look of excitement on his chubby face.

"What's going on in here?" he demanded. With more than a little disgust, she realized the guard was aroused, and it was impossible to miss the sound of anticipation in his voice. He was looking forward to trouble.

She turned around, pointing to the man on the bench, and her breath caught as she realized it was no longer Roen on the stretcher, but a dark eyed man with an unfamiliar face. Glazed eyes stared into space. She felt her neck, but the skin was intact. She brought her fingers up to her face. No blood.

"Nothing," she said softly, dazed and shaken. "False alarm."

.........................................................

She sighed and rubbed her eyes with nervous fingers. She had just read the same passage three times and hadn't retained a single word. She closed the book and placed it on the couch seat next to her. Every light in her apartment was on. It was 2am. It was her third night with no sleep.

She was becoming delirious, she knew. The walls danced and shifted, Penpal spoke telepathically to her, food settled uncomfortably in her stomach. It didn't matter. She couldn't go to sleep. She had to stay awake. Awake, Roen could only torment her from the shadows. Asleep, he would take her. Deep down she knew, this time, he wouldn't let her go.

She grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. Netflix movies scrolled past as she numbly looked for something to watch. She settled on a show about four boys and a girl navigating a different world. How appropriate.

She curled up on the couch like she did when she was little, legs tucked up under her chin, arms curled around them, head resting on her knees. Her muscles ached from the beating she had taken at the gym. Her sparring adversary had been too rough, and she had not yet learned him enough to conquer the snarling giant. Her trainer had to peel him off her, draped over her as she gasped for air.

It didn't matter. It had kept her awake.

Her eyes glazed over as she watched the TV, images and colors flashing by in confounding ways.

"Why do you fight me so, sweet Zoey?" His familiar, warm and cool breath caressed her tanned neck. She murmured something unintelligible, her head dropping to the side, heavy eyelids drifting closed. He chuckled softly as he gathered her little body into his arms, sweeping his hands over her delicious curves. Instinctively, nearly lost to unconsciousness, she nuzzled into him, inhaling the smell of cinnamon and cloves and leather. He stroked her hair and held her as she slept.

..........................................

Emerald eyes fluttered open. She started and sat up straight, panicked breaths gripping her chest as she looked around at unfamiliar surroundings. Glittering black rock formed a large room, the ceiling disguised as the night sky with phosphorescent spots glowing like blue-green stars. She lay below several warm blankets on a wonderfully firm mattress. The room was nearly bare, adorned only with a table seemingly carved out of the same glittering dark rock that made up the walls.

He was standing in the shadows. Lavender eyes gleamed as he stalked forward slowly, a predator hunting his prey. She shrunk back, drawing up the covers to protect herself. It was no use. With disturbing ease, he found her ankle and dragged her underneath him as he pressed himself into her. Once again, she could feel the hardness of his arousal against her body. That malicious smile slowly spread across his face.

"My sweet Zoey, how long have I waited for you? I knew as soon as I had a glimpse of you, with your chestnut hair and fierce little eyes, so beautifully broken, that you belonged to me. And now here you are, my little damaged thing all grown up, ripe and ready to be taken." She said nothing as he leaned in closer, pressing his lips onto hers in a sweet, chaste kiss. "Did I not rescue you? Did I not keep you safe, time and time again? Did I not care for you, feed you, heal you?"

She remembered and conceded. He had done all those things and more. If it hadn't been for him, she would most likely be dead.

She lay passive as his kisses became more demanding, his mouth devouring hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth and dragging across her soft lips. She was terrified, and mystified, and so far gone that she didn't care when his hand slipped under her shirt to grasp the small swell of her breast, flicking and twisting her nipple until it hardened. A stirring in her belly came alive, filling her with a strange sort of fire. His eyes locked on hers, he slid his rough hands up her silky skin, sliding her shirt up and over her head and arms. He gazed down at her naked chest and lowered his mouth to her breast, his tongue slipping over the small buds of her nipples as he sucked and lightly bit. She moaned despite herself, and she felt the hard thing pressing against her thigh jump and pulse. More sliding of his rough hands, the sound of buckles being undone, slipping off his jacket and the black shirt underneath, and they lay against each other, naked skin against naked skin. His mouth came back to hers, warm and possessive. He tasted just like he smelled, like cinnamon and cloves.

His fingers slid down the soft curve of her hip, slipped between her legs to the place where she was warm and wet. A finger swept through her slit and pressed against her clit, playful and exquisite. The attention made the small bundle of nerves grow and pulse under his finger, and she grew slippery as her body prepared for the invasion she knew was coming. The more his finger circled her clit, the more she submitted, arching her body and sliding her thighs apart to give him more access. He slipped two fingers inside of her and she groaned. His eyes danced with fire as he broke their kiss and looked down at her. "I always knew, sweet Zoey, that you would save yourself from me. Even if you didn't."

She couldn't think straight with his fingers sliding in and out of her while he manipulated her throbbing clit. She nodded as she writhed beneath him. She felt herself reaching for some unknown destination, a tight coil in her stomach growing tighter and tighter. She needed more. His hands closed around her breasts, twisting and pulling her nipples until she cried out in pain that was also pleasure. She couldn't understand. She was lost in sensation, lost in the feel of him covering her body, her savior, her friend, her tormentor.

She slipped a trembling hand between them, gripping the hard, thick member that twitched when she closed her fingers around it. She felt the satiny smooth skin as she stroked him, running her thumb over the tip, catching a drop of sticky warmth that she could almost smell. She sighed deeply. This was what she wanted. She knew it would split her apart, knew it was too big, that it would break her. That's what he wanted. He wanted her broken and damaged, his shattered little Zoey collapsed into his arms.

He groaned at her touch and pulled his fingers out of her, dripping with her juices. He brought his hand up to her, slipping into her mouth, making her taste herself. She sucked obediently, her eyes hooded and entranced. Moving to penetrate her again with his fingers, he coated himself with her dripping arousal and positioned the head of his cock at her entrance. He planted his hands on either side of her head and grinned down at her. "My sweet Zoey," he crooned.

Slowly, he thrust into her, and she threw back her head and screamed. Blissful pain gripped her as he pushed past her tight entrance. He was only partly in, but he waited so her body could adjust to him. When she had settled, her breath coming in quick, shallow pulls, he pushed in again, past that tight barrier, shattering her like she knew he would. White hot pain blinded her, and she sobbed as he thrust completely inside her. He waited, panting, as he felt her tight walls stretching around his thick cock. He pulled out and thrust in again, delighting in her sweet screams. He dragged his sandpaper tongue across her wet cheeks, catching her delicious tears. He silenced her screams with his mouth, his tongue thrusting into her in time with his cock. She would come to know pain, deeply, intimately. She would come to crave it, to beg for it. He knew what was in her fractured soul. He would have her, the only one who knew exactly what she needed, the only one who could give her the things that would soothe her fragmented heart.

Eventually the pain mixed perfectly with the pleasure, and her hips began to move up to meet his with each thrust. He found ecstasy in her little moans and mewls against his lips. He wove his fingers through her hair and gripped her tightly. She whimpered, and he shuddered with pleasure at the sound. His thrusts became more urgent, rough and hard and fast. His mouth abandoned hers and clamped onto the silky-smooth flesh of her neck, once again drawing blood. She screamed again, this time in rapture. She bucked her hips, frantic to reach the crest of the growing wave inside of her. His too-big cock stretched and speared her, bringing her to ruin.

All of her fight, all of the tenacity simmered beneath her toned muscles, all of it melted away under his weight. He filled her completely. He made her whole. With him deep inside of her, making her feel the fervor of this euphoria, she knew that he spoke the truth. She belonged to him.

The wave grew, flames licking her insides as she neared elation. Bright, lavender eyes held hers as he ground his hips into her, the friction on her clit enough to pull her right to the edge. Suddenly, he pulled out, and she whimpered and pulled on his muscled back to entice him to fill her again, to let her come.

"Say the words, sweet Zoey. Tell me who you belong to. Tell me what you want."

Tears streamed down her face as she felt the sweet surrender move through her. "I belong to you," she gasped, her breathing hard and heavy. "Please... Let me come."

He slammed into her, tearing her apart, shattering what was left of her. She found the crest of that wave and toppled over, tumbling into complete, perfect darkness. Every nerve in her body fired with pleasure. Her skin tingled, and she cried out at his touch. It singed and burned. Her body arched and twisted and tightened beneath him. He groaned and came into her, the fire that she needed filling her belly, shooting deep into her womb. She screamed and moaned, cried and sobbed. He held her as she disintegrated beneath him. When he was spent, when she was quiet, he slipped out of her, puddles of come and her juices gathering beneath her. He slipped off her onto his side and gathered her into his arms. He stroked the hair off her damp forehead and held her tight against him as tears streamed down her face.

Cooing and comforting, whispering words of praise, he made her still.

"I want to go home now, Roen," she said softly. He shushed her, cradled her head to his hardened chest.

"You are home, sweet Zoey. I'm not letting you go."

She strained her neck to look up at him. Gleaming lavender eyes looked at her lovingly. "What about Penpal?" she whimpered, and his heart broke for the creature in his arms.

"We will collect him and bring him here. You may keep your broken companion." His voice was soft, a contrast to his normal growling timbre.

She nuzzled back into his chest, content to breathe him in and rest in his arms. She thought about the picture back in her room. The bloody patients in the ER, waiting for her to bandage and fix. She thought of kind and gentle Kyle who would never be able to give her what she really needed. She understood more of herself in that moment than she ever had. She needed someone to hold her together. Someone strong enough to defeat her, who could annihilate the ruin in her.

With a burst of clarity and wonder, she realized. She belonged in this hidden world. Curled up, safe in Roen's arms, she knew.

She was the monster.