“You’remyFlower, and you always will be.” He lets out a low grunt, pace speeding. “Can you come for me again, my precious little Flower? No stimulation on your clit. No toys or force. I want you to come forme—your monster. Your lover—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before my body obeys. I come with a tired cry and a rush of wetness that coats his cock. After a few jerky thrusts, I feel his length pulse inside me as he goes still and releases a low groan.
When he rolls off of me, I lie limply on the bed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of this bed today.” I don’t know if I canstand, let alone walk.
“That works for me,” Greyson quips.
“I want to see my plants, Grey.”
He pauses halfway up from the mattress. Gives me a look filled with so much softness, I roll over to my side just to hide from his gaze.
Grey. I just called him a nickname, without even thinking about it. Slowly, he’s becoming equal parts Greyson and Monster to me. He’ll always be a monster… but it might behoove me to see some humanity in him, as well.
“I can drive you later if you want,” he says. “For now, let’s get you cleaned up and eat some breakfast. We need to talk.”
I hate hearing those words. It usually means some form of bad news is coming. If Monster asks me to call my brother again and tell him more lies, I’ll tell him to go fuck himself… but something tells me that’s not the case. No, he seemed regretful of how negatively my conversation with my brother impacted me.
I’m regretful, too. The pain I felt hasn’t been wiped away by nearly twenty hours of straight sex, interrupted only by a few stretches of sleep—it’s simply been temporarily sidelined. It’s still there, aching away in my chest, reminding me with every beat of my heart that my favorite person in the world, the only one I thought I could trust, called me a stupid little girl and used a metaphor that involved having me killed.
I know my brother has a temper. I know his protectiveness can sometimes cloud his judgement. But nothing can excuse the way he spoke to me… and I don’t know if I’ll get over it. Certainly no time soon.
For once, Monster allows me to shower and dress alone while he grabs our breakfast from the kitchen downstairs. I meet him in the dining room, where he’s setting up an elaborate spread.
Luci, lazing on his cat bed in the corner, perks right up at my entrance. He releases a meow of greeting and regally pads his way over to me, winding in and out of my legs and rubbing fur all over mypants. When he stands on his hind legs and meows again, I pick him up, letting him curl into my shoulder and rub his cute face against my neck.
“Your cat needs to be less possessive of you,” Monster says, vague amusement coating his words. “I don’t particularly feel like being in a battle of wills with your furry companion.”
“Don’t be silly,” I say, taking a seat at the table. “In a battle between you and Lucifer, you’d always lose.”
Luci releases a yowl to punctuate my statement. I pepper his face in kisses, and wait for him to settle down in my lap before starting to load my plate.
“Where’s Luci’s breakfast?” I ask curiously, looking around the dishes of classic American and European breakfast foods.
“I gave it to him already.”
Something warm fills my chest. I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Thank you.” Greyson feeding my cat while I slept in seems oddly… domestic.
“Now that I’m no longer bed-ridden, he doesn’t seem to have any affection for me,” Monster comments.
“He’s not clawing your eyes out. With most men, that’s Luci’s only form of affection. You’re lucky he ever let you touch him. Now, before I have a panic attack, what is it you want to talk about?”
“Eat first. I don’t want to spoil your appetite.”
Which means that the topic is serious and unpleasant.Lovely. I shovel down as much food as I can, then lean back in my seat and stare at Monster. “Ready whenever you are.”
Monster nods. “We need to talk about your father.”
“No.” My answer is immediate. I don’t want to talk about that heinous man; I don’t even want tothinkabout him.
“Scarlett.” Monster’s voice is firm. “It wasn’t a question.”
“No.”
“Okay, then. I’ll talk, and you can listen.” Monster gives me a pointed glare, silently communicating that there’s no avoiding this conversation. I release a sigh of irritation and lean back in my seat, consoling myself by petting my cat.
“The Nighthawks are raiding his territory next week,” Monster says. “I won’t be joining the raid, since I’m not yet ready for field work. My unit will be staying here to hold down the fort in case of any retaliation. Now, if there’s anything you can tell me about the Widower’s headquarters—anything that’ll help the Nighthawks run a successful raid without casualties—I’d appreciate it. I think one of the main things we have in common is a deep wish to see your father dead.”
“It’s the only thing we have in common,” I snap.
