Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 124077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
He was fighting them off, ripping them away with snarls of effort, but for every one he discarded, two more seemed to take its place, drawn by the potent combination of their combined arousal.
Oh God, what was going to happen to him? Terra stood on the bank, naked, dripping, and trembling, watching the alien, erotic nightmare unfold in the steaming water below.
At last, Taurex fought his way out of the pool, leaving the red pods writhing in the steaming pool like angry snakes. His nostrils were flared, and his enormous hands were clenched into fists—he looked like a terrifying god rising from the water and Terra watched him in awe as he emerged.
“Forgive me for that,” he said, breathing deeply as he came to stand in front of her. “I have never seen them so active before. I hope they didn’t hurt you.”
“I…I’m fine. I think.” Terra realized she was shivering and covered in goosebumps. She tried to take a step, but her legs gave way and she started to fall.
“Terra!” Taurex swooped her into his arms and before she knew it, she was being held close to his bare, muscular chest.
Terra wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.
“Please–just take me inside.”
“Of course, I will, lovely one.”
Cradling her close, Taurex carried her back into his house as Terra shivered in his arms.
26
TAUREX
Guilt was a cold, heavy stone in Taurex’s gut, colder than the night air on his wet skin. He had promised to protect her and keep her safe and then the pleasure blooms had attacked.
He carried Terra into the warmth of his home, her slight form shivering against his chest, her arms locked around his neck. Her face was buried in the curve of his shoulder, her breath a warm, rapid flutter against his skin.
The scent of her fear—sharp and acrid—cut through the lingering, floral musk of the pleasure blooms that still clung to them both. It made his own muscles coil with a savage need to conquer a foe he could not fight. He had failed her. He had brought her to a place of peace, and it had turned on her.
But I’ve never seen them so active! How could I know they would attack her? he asked himself.
The words felt like a pathetic excuse even as he thought them. The red blooms had moved with a singular, aggressive purpose he’d only ever read about in theoretical texts on symbiotic reproductive triggers. They hadn’t been seeking general arousal. They had been seeking completion—a mating.
The thought, once formed, would not leave him alone. It hammered inside his brain, leading to even more guilt.
His scent, thick with a Monstrum’s primal need for his fated mate, had combined with Terra’s own human pheromones—a scent that, to him, was the most intoxicating blend of sweetness and heat he’d ever known. Together, they hadn’t just aroused the blooms—they had triggered them to stage a mass attack. It was the only explanation. The flora had sensed the unique biochemical signature of a potential bond and had reacted according to its nature.
But he could not say this to Terra. To voice it would be to expose the terrifying depth of his own truth. He had known she was his from the moment her small, brave hand had taken his in that grimy club. The psychic flash that had nearly buckled his knees had been confirmation—a brutal, beautiful glimpse of a union so profound it had shaken his soul.
But to Terra that would no doubt sound like madness. Or worse, as the humans said it would sound like a “line.” After the violation of the blooms, the last thing she needed was to feel pursued by another force she could not control—especially if that force was him.
So he held his silence, cradling her closer as he shouldered his way into the main bathing chamber. He set her down gently on a wide, padded bench, her legs still unsteady.
“Taurex?” she looked up at him, shivering. “S-so c-c-cold,” she stammered, her teeth chattering.
Probably from shock as much as the lower body temperature, he thought grimly.
“Let me dry you, lovely one,” he murmured, his voice roughened by emotion.
He grabbed a large, absorbent towel made from dried moss-silk, softer than any Earth cotton. Kneeling before her, he began to pat the moisture from her skin.
He was achingly careful, treating her like something infinitely precious and fragile. He blotted the water from her shoulders, the elegant line of her spine, the gentle curve of her waist. He toweled her legs and her feet, each motion slow and deliberate, a silent apology he hoped she could feel in every touch.
Terra just sat passively, her head bowed, her damp hair veiling her face. She didn’t say a word but finally her shivering began to subside under the gentle friction and the room’s warmth.