He runs one of his tentacles along the sensitive skin of my neck, giving me a whole body shiver that makes my knees tremble. Before I can even sway on my feet, he wraps a tentacle around my waist, placing an even thicker one beneath my thighs for support, and carries me off my feet.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Laying you on the bed,” he replies, his deep voice swirling over my skin. “I will soothe the aches I caused and help you relax.”
“Fine.” I sink back into the mattress and ready myself for his tentacles.
I thought he would go straight for my nipples and pussy, the way he did the night before, but one of the appendages wraps around my ankles and lifts my leg a foot off the bed. When he lays it down, it’s on something soft and damp.
“What’s that?”
“I rolled up one of my tentacles to form a cushion for you while I work.”
“That’s really nice,” I murmur.
“I hoped that spending three nights consuming your essence would tame my darker side.”
He winds his tentacle around my heel. As it slithers past my insole, it presses and squeezes every inch of the flesh there before applying pressure at the ball of my foot.
Until this moment, I didn’t know my feet could be so sensitive. I enjoy massages whenever I can afford the luxury, but nothing ever felt as enjoyable as this. The slippery substance on his tentacles soaks into my skin, infusing my body with a deep sense of ease.
He lifts up the other foot and lavishes it with the same amount of attention, making every inch of me relax, even the tight muscles around my shoulders.
“Aaah,” I say with a sigh.
He chuckles. “Feeling better already?”
“You’re going to have to work a lot harder to make up for what you did,” I murmur.
“Of course,” he replies. “I intend to give my mate the utmost pleasure.”
“Good.”
Four thin tendrils sprout from the tentacles around my feet and slide between my toes. The surprise has me curling them and giggling.
The tentacles become more slippery, turning the tickling sensation into something a lot more arousing. The next time he moves them between my toes, it sends pleasure shooting up my legs and gathering in my pussy.
My breath hitches.
“Ticklish?” he asks in a tone that implies he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“N-no,” I whisper with a pleasant shudder. Right now, I’m feeling quite the opposite. “What were you saying about taming?”
“My kind is naturally hostile to others who are not our kin,” he rumbles. “My darker side recognizes you as his mate, but doesn’t care that the things he does would make you cry. He is a selfish, domineering creature who would only use you for his own pleasure.”
“So, there are two of you?” I ask with a frown.
“In a way,” he replies. “The version of me you see can exercise restraint.”
“And you enjoyed whipping me?”
“I did not enjoy your distress.”
My eyes narrow. It looks like he doesn’t want to admit that he liked being wicked. But am I reaching when I think he also seems ashamed of his actions? Either way, it’s obvious that the cruel and beautiful creature is also him.
“How can I make that side of you more considerate?” I ask.
The monster sighs. “The more time we spend together, the more that side will see you as a mate to be cherished, not used.”