She just hoped it could bring him back.
FORTY-SIX
The Fury filled Roarn’s head with an endless red buzzing. He was so angry, so full of rage. They had locked him up again—taken away his freedom and put him in a cage. He didn’t think of this in words, however—the Beast Mind had taken over completely. He only knew he was a captive in a place too small for roaming. He paced the enclosure for hours and days, sniffing for a way out and never finding it.
And now an intruder had entered his territory—a stranger was on his turf.
Roarn growled warningly at the interloper—it was a female in a red garment and he didn’t recognize her. She spoke to him in a soft voice, but he didn’t understand her words—the Fury filled his ears with buzzing static, making it impossible to distinguish human speech.
Kill! whispered the Fury. Bite, slash, destroy! An intruder could not be tolerated—not even a female one! This was the only territory Roarn had—he must defend it!
But just as he was about to pounce, the female intruder did the strangest thing. She reached into her red garment and pulled something out of it—something white and delicate. Then she tossed the thing at Roarn.
At first he thought it was some kind of weapon and the growl growing in his throat rose in pitch. How dare she come into his territory and attack him! He would show her—he would make her pay!
But then, the faintest whiff of scent tickled his nose. Roarn frowned. What was that? What could it be? He nosed at the lacy thing, which didn’t seem so threatening after all—it was just fabric. And from it, came a faint, half-remembered scent. A scent that smelled like warmth and safety and…love? Could that be true? Could this female love him?
No! Kill her! Destroy! DESTROY!
The Fury buzzed even louder in his ears, refusing to be driven away. It wanted to keep him in a red rage forever—wanted to wrap him in chains of madness and never get him go.
Roarn lifted his head and growled again.
FORTY-SEVEN
Moving slowly so as not to startle the big Monstrum, Christine stepped out of her panties and held them out, dangling them from her fingertips, an arm’s length from her body.
“Come here, Roarn,” she murmured coaxingly. “Come here, baby—I’ve got what you need. Just come and get it, okay?”
The warning growl that rumbled in his throat took on a questioning tone and the golden-green eyes focused on her panties.
“That’s right,” Christine murmured, waving the panties towards him and praying the air currents in the holding cell would waft her scent to the big Monstrum. “That’s right, come here, baby. Come here…”
Slowly, cautiously, Roarn began to approach her. He was crawling sinuously on all fours, moving as stealthily as a big cat in the jungle, but he no longer looked like he was going to rip her throat out.
Christine hoped, anyway.
When he got close enough, he lifted his head and sniffed the air.
“That’s right,” Christine told him again. “That’s right, you know that scent—you know who I am, don’t you, baby?”
Was there the slightest spark of recognition in his golden-green eyes? Christine didn’t know if she was imagining it or not. Roarn inhaled again, nudging the lacy fabric dangling from her fingers with his head. Then, to her mingled fear and surprise, he butted her hand away and came closer, to nuzzle at her crotch.
Of course—he would want to come close enough to get my scent right from the source, Christine thought. It was still like having a massive predator nudging between her thighs, but now wasn’t the time to lose her courage.
Oh Kindred Goddess help me—I hope I’m doing the right thing!
She let the panties fall to the floor of the holding cell, which was carpeted in the same soft dark blue moss as the rest of the Monstrum Mother Ship. With trembling hands, she parted the overlapping folds of her wrap dress, baring her pussy.
Roarn sat back and made an interested sounding growl deep in his throat and his golden-green eyes were suddenly half-lidded.
“That’s right,” Christine told him. “It’s me—come here if you need to be sure. Come to me, Roarn.”
The big Monstrum made a deep purring sound of approval and pressed his face between her thighs, his breath hot and damp on her unprotected sex. Christine felt a shiver run through her as he first inhaled deeply, then rubbed his velvety cheek against her mound. This was what he needed to come back to himself—she was certain of it.
But it seemed that Roarn needed more.
With a low, urgent sound of need, he pressed forward harder and Christine felt his hot, wet tongue lapping the closed outer lips of her pussy.
Another shiver ran through her—this one equal parts desire and fear. Did she dare to do this with Roarn when he was still more animal than man? Did she dare to open her pussy and risk letting him taste her?