Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I will!” Jag said quickly, a puppy eager to please its owner. “What do you like to do? Do you hunt? Do you know about plants?”
Dane gave an incredulous laugh. “Um… no. I work with—do you know what computers are?” he asked, unsure whether the concept of programming existed in Jag’s understanding of the world.
Jag bit his lip and started making a sandwich with jam. “I know what they are. They have maps, and games, and books on them. But you won’t need any of that here.”
Dane’s throat pulsed, and he shifted position. “When you found me with my glasses, did you also see a black thing the size of my palm?”
Jag rolled his eyes. "I know it's called a phone. But I will teach you bird calls and other alert sounds so we can easily communicate from afar if need be.” He handed Dane the sandwich.
“Yes, but it has my books, and I like reading,” Dane protested before mentally berating himself. “And it’s not even a phone. It’s a small computer.”
“I’ve found plenty of books around here, so I’m sure I can bring you some. What do you like to read?” Jag asked and slid his hand into Dane’s. It was warm and as rough as Dane imagined those of the humanoid monsters he fantasized about.
The treacherous part of him, the one that wanted to lose himself in rough pleasure, suggested he could get under Jag’s skin more easily if he yielded to his desires. But what if it got him the opposite result and prompted Jag to lose respect for him or something? He had no idea how this maniac’s mind worked.
“Well… I read a lot about…” Monsters. “Fantasy.”
“Maybe you can tell me some stories in the evening. We used to do that around the campfire, so I’ve got a few up my sleeve as well.” Jag acted so sweet, but Dane could sense the hunger in his every gesture, even in the way Jag rubbed him with his thumb. The guy wanted to devour him and couldn’t wait.
What was he to do?
“Well… if I had the little computer, I could also show you photos of my family,” Dane said carefully.
Jag huffed and pulled away, making Dane wince. He’d overstepped and needed to make amends. Fast.
“So you’re forcing me into a bit of a digital detox, aren’t you? I heard it’s good for lowering cortisol,” Dane said with a careful smile, but when he realized Jag didn’t know what he was talking about, he cleared his throat. “Sure. We can tell each other stories.”
Jag nodded, but he seemed deflated. “I’m going hunting now. Eat, drink, get to know our home.”
That last activity would be rather difficult for as long as the collar remained in place, but when Jag shifted to move away, Dane acted on instinct and pressed his lips to the closed mouth.
A jolt of electricity traveled to the ends of his curling toes, and he opened his eyes, breathlessly meeting Jag’s gaze in the early afternoon sun coming in through the window. It seemed that the wild man had become stone, but when he pushed forward and opened his mouth for a hungry kiss, it turned out he’d been a predator waiting to pounce.
Jag’s greedy hands dove under Dane’s T-shirt. Scents of fur, dirt, and some basic soap spun through Dane’s head as he shut his eyes and touched Jag’s nape without thinking. The other man’s tongue penetrated his mouth in an aggressive thrust that stroked his palate.
Oh God. It was just what all the monsters did in the porny comics Dane read, and he squeezed his thighs in a vain attempt to keep his erection down. He wasn’t sure when he’d ended up flat on his back, but Jag had no qualms over pushing him to the furs. The beast of a man was already climbing on top, positioning himself between Dane’s legs and grinding against him with a happy grunt.
It was clear as day that if Dane didn’t stop this, Jag would take his satisfaction again, so he gathered all his moral strength and pushed at Jag’s chest. “Too fast,” he uttered in an embarrassingly high-pitched tone.
And while Jag took his time moving away, he did listen to Dane’s plea and backed off.
Was it wrong to think he looked so very handsome with all the hair around his face, the healthy flush, and the smug little smile?
Jag stole one more peck to Dane’s lips before getting up. “I’ll see you later.”
This wasn’t fair. Of course it was for the better that his captor was a non-murderous weirdo, but at this rate, Dane might find himself struggling to keep away.
It would be Rob all over again. And he knew how that ended.
Fuck.
Chapter 6 – Jag
Dane was perfect.
A week wasn’t that long of a time, but most of the ugly bruises had faded, and as Jag led him on their daily walk at dawn, the sun sneaking through heavy, dark clouds gathered behind them set light to the colorful tattoos on the broad back.