He seemed to like the scrambled eggs well enough but when he took his first bite of bacon, his eyes rolled up in his head and he made a deep purring sound that Christine thought must be a noise of pleasure.
She remembered him making the same sound when she had been stroking him off the night before—a memory which made her cheeks get hot, even as her pussy got wet. God, his mouth on her breasts had been so intensely pleasurable! They probably shouldn’t have done that—she still thought she was probably too old for him—but she couldn’t deny it was the best sex she’d had in ages, even though they hadn’t actually had sex.
“You like it?” she asked, when he swallowed the bite of bacon and opened his eyes again.
Roarn nodded eagerly.
“So…good” he rumbled eagerly. “Crispy…salty…delicious.”
“Well, that’s bacon for you,” Christine remarked, grinning at his enthusiasm. She made a mental note to get some more packs of it down at the Food Lion—hopefully they would have some on sale.
Then, to her surprise, Roarn reached across the table and laid one enormous hand on hers.
“Chris-teen, you are…so good…to me.” He was looking at her earnestly as he spoke. “You…freed me from…the trap. You…helped me with…the Fury. You feed me…good, delicious food. And you…let me hold…your beautiful body…and breathe…your sweet scent. I am…so grateful.”
Christine wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was looking at her so intently and the touch of his hand on hers seemed to send a kind of electrical spark of attraction through her. Indeed, she wondered if he was feeling it too, because his golden-green eyes were suddenly half-lidded.
“You’re…you’re welcome, Roarn,” she said, her voice sounding a bit breathless in her own ears. “I’m glad to do it.”
“Most would not,” he said seriously. “They would…turn me in.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Christine assured him. “You’re going to be just fine. What you need is some TLC, that’s all.”
“TLC?” He raised his eyebrows curiously.
“Tender loving care,” Christine told him. She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Now finish your breakfast before it gets cold.”
He smiled back at her, an expression that centered more in his eyes than his mouth, and went back to the bacon and eggs.
Christine ate her breakfast too, thinking how nice it was to have someone to eat with for a change. It was one thing she hadn’t anticipated about having an empty nest—how lonely mealtimes could get when you were the only one eating. She liked sharing meals with someone—especially someone who appreciated her cooking, as Roarn did.
Well, don’t get used to it—it’s not like this is forever, she warned herself. The big Monstrum would leave eventually and go off to do his own thing. But for now, he was here with her and she decided to live in the moment and enjoy herself.
That’s just fine—as long as you don’t lose your heart, she told herself. Because you know this situation is temporary.
Though when she looked across the breakfast table at the big Monstrum, she couldn’t help wishing that it could somehow become permanent.
TWENTY-TWO
“Okay, I’m off to do my errands and I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
Christine gave him a slightly worried look as she stood in the front doorway of her cabin. She had some shopping bags over her arm and she was dressed for the cold weather outside, in tall brown boots and the same puffy jacket she’d been wearing when she rescued him from the trap the night before.
“I will…be fine,” Roarn assured her. He didn’t want her to worry and he really did feel remarkably better. The red static of the Fury was pushed to the far corners of his mind—so far that he could barely hear it buzzing. He didn’t think it would come back while she was gone, but if he did feel it coming, he had a plan.
He had seen the place where Christine put her used clothing in the sleeping chamber—she called it her “dirty clothes hamper”—which made no sense to Roarn, since none of the clothing he could see in it was dirty. Well, other than the pink robe she had been wearing the night before when she gave him pleasure. She had used that to wipe up the considerable amount of seed he had spurted on her belly, so it definitely needed to be washed.
But though the other garments in the basket weren’t dirty, they had been worn—which meant they had Christine’s scent all over them. If the Fury started creeping up on him again, Roarn planned to go put his head in the basket and breathe in deeply until it passed.
He was sure this plan would work. Hadn’t the Mature Elite’s sweet scent brought him back from the brink twice already? Before he had smelled Christine and gotten close to her, he had been as mindless and beast-like as the felines she kept for pets. But breathing her scent seemed to drive the Fury back and free him of the terrible bloody buzzing that tried to take over his mind. Roarn didn’t know why it helped so much, but it really did and he was so grateful to be in his right mind again.