Keary and Drystan are still in the kitchen when the human returns. I’m not sure where the lut is since she didn’t follow him back. I watch the human through the stacks of books as he sets down his bag. He’s now in fresh clothing, his hair damp.
He looks around, taking in the library, then he turns and starts meandering down an aisle. With nothing else to do right now, I follow him from a distance. I’m still trying to figure out why Keary won’t let him go. Why is he keeping this particular human?
My first thought is that his monster is reacting to the human in the same way our monsters react to each other. Meaning, they sense their mate. It’s a weaker feeling with humans, but it’s no less undeniable than it is among monsters.
What’s most infuriating is that Keary’s obviously willing to see where it goes with the human, whereas he’s been telling me and Drystan no for decades. It only makes me want to hate the human more. What if I pushed a shelf of books over on him? What if I pushed him off the roof of the library?
The fact that these thoughts haven’t caused me to be violently expelled from the library means they’re not at all true convictions. I have no interest in actually harming him. I don’twantto harm him… which only further solidifies that he is part of this family. Another reluctant individual.
The human stops a few times to read the back of a book or look at a cover. I pause where he did to examine the same books, trying to figure out what catches his eye. My methods for dissecting a human are far different from what the asshole humans did to monsters. I don’t want to see what physiologically makes him up. I want to see what mentally makes him tick.
Every tiny bit of information leads to more insight, even if I haven’t made sense of it yet.
I turn the corner and stop in my tracks when Keary is there with his arms folded across his chest. Oops. Busted.
“Stop stalking him. He’s not your prey,” Keary demands.
“I’m keeping him safe.”
It’s a weak lie. I’m not even trying. Keary doesn’t call me out, but he makes a pointed look around. I can just hear his words.We’re in a library!I smirk, though I try not to.
“Why are you?—”
“I’m getting to know him through his interests,” I say before he can ask me the same question he’s already asked me a couple times now. “You’re not willing to let us get to know him through his mouth, so this is the next best thing.”
Keary’s eyes narrow. That was simply a jab to see what his reaction would be. I can feel his possessiveness spark as his nostrils flare.
I glance around, finding that the human has meandered deeper into the labyrinth of aisles than I thought. I wasn’t paying attention anyway. Stepping closer, I press my hand to Keary’s chest. He takes a step backward until his back is against the side of a shelf.
“Why areyouso obsessed with him?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “Have you asked yourself that?”
“He’s hot,” Keary answers predictably.
“Uh huh. I’m not sure that’s the reason your monster is telling you.” I step closer, putting my face in his. Keary determinedly keeps his arms crossed. “Is it, Keary?”
He huffs. “My monster is a horny beast,” he mutters. “Yes, that’s what he’s telling me.”
“You’re not even trying to lie convincingly now. Why is that? Why are you willing to let your monster dictate your actions toward this human but not toward us?”
I don’t let him answer because I know it’s only going to make him angry. He’ll push back. He’s gone so far as to leave us behind when one of us has pushed too hard.
I drop down to my knees in front of him, digging my hands into the elastic of his pants to tug them down. Immediately, his eyes flare gold. Heisa horny monster. He always has been. The only way he ever lets Drystan or I get close is when we’re offering up orgasms. Anything personal, anything intimate, and he raises a wall taller and thicker than that which surrounds the monster bases.
His arms fall to his sides, and he wraps his hands around the edges of the shelf as I pull his pants down.
Keary’s dick is magnificent. It always has been the most splendid thing I’ve ever seen, a true work of art. There’s no wonder why ancient civilizations erected golden cocks at the top of monuments. They’re just sexy.
I lick the tip, digging my tongue against his slit, making Keary inhale. He loves having his slit played with. I’m rewarded with a burst of precum on my tongue.
His thighs are fucking strong. Thick. I brace my hands on them, enjoying the way his muscles flex under my touch, and push them apart so I can get at his balls more easily. I always begin with his balls. It’s the quickest way to make him vocal, and once he’s vocal, he doesn’t quiet down.
His balls are sweaty. I stick my nose in them and inhale. We’ve been walking a long time today, so I’m ecstatic that he’s sweaty. I love the smell of him, the taste of him when he sweats. Hell, I love it when he’s clean too.
The left nut hangs a little lower, and that’s always the one I begin with. I suck it into my mouth and listen to his sharp inhale. Giving it a little suck makes him groan quietly in his throat. Oh no, Keary. Quiet isn’t going to work for me.
The louder he is, the more I’m convinced that he’ll figure out that I’m exactly what he needs. I’m just what he wants. His monster will wear on him more and more with each orgasm.
I suck a little harder. His hands dig into my hair to keep my head still, and he pushes his hips forward. I suck his balls, switching back and forth between the two, until he’s whimpering. It gets louder and louder until it’s a borderline constant whine.
