Being the little brat that she is, my mate works twice as hard to tip me over the edge first. We both have our own tricks for making the other person come, and I snarl filthy things into Zhuliya’s ear as I jackhammer deep into her pussy.

She whimpers, and I smile triumphantly until she reaches back with a hand to hold mine. Her head twists to the side so Zhuliya can look me in the eye.

“Breed me, mark me, claim me—I’m yours.”

Her words send the primal, possessive part of my brain into hyperdrive, and I howl as my stoyuk jerks, filling my mate’s pussy just like she told me to do.

But my orgasm triggers her own, and together we cry out before collapsing on the very sturdy bed we share.

“I think I won that round technically.”

“Are you still keeping score?” I pant, barely able to catch my breath.

“Absolutely I am!”

“And?”

“You’re beating me by like a dozen orgasms.”

I smirk. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you make it up to me.”

Zhuliya swats my arm playfully. “Research time?”

“After a nap. I’ve waited my whole life to find my people, but I swear I’ve waited longer to hold you in my arms. I love you, soyam.”

“And I love you, my Ithaquan beast.”

With a sigh, I wrap my body around my mate, placing a kiss atop her head. In Ithaquan lore, those who pass join Ulu in the Great Afterlife, but I think I’m in it now.

Because Gan Eden—as Zhuliya calls it—is with her in my arms.

THE END

Ready for another book in the series?

Then check out MONSTROUS MEET CUTES© or keep reading for a sneak peek at Audited By The Anubis!

(Please note Dairfyn and Sakura have their story in letter D, Dared By The Dagon.)

SNEAK PEEK CHAPTER ONE

FERN

Hell's bells—someone's at the door.

No one ever comes to visit me, especially on a Thursday afternoon. It’s two o’clock, and Seraphina is at the bakery so that I can have the day off.

Thus far, I've spent it eating an absurd amount of Irish potato cookies and binge watching Bridgerton.

Why can't I have any wealthy men vying for my hand in marriage?

I remind myself that I'm not interested in said wealthy men because one marriage was enough for me.

The knocking on the door persists, and I groan. Unlike my phone, I can't silence my visitor. Another five minutes pass, and the person is still at my door.

Huffing, I unwind from my tangle of blankets and shuffle across my living room floor. My fleece socks crackle with the contact, my short red hair ballooning around my head.

Fairly certain I have enough electricity to power an off-grid community, I kick my rain boots as I pass them, hoping the rubber disperses the charge.

Peeping through the thin stained glass that decorates the sides of the front door of my Victorian house, I nearly fall over when I spy who's on my porch.

Tall, dark, and handsome?

Nuh uh.

More like tall, dark, and deadly.

A seven-foot monster stands there, waiting patiently for me to open the door that I have no plan of answering.

The black fur covering his face and snout is smooth and shiny, a contrast to his tail, which appears very bushy.

His large, soulful eyes are lined with gold, and there's a small hoop earring through one of his ears.

The navy suit he sports appears more indigo than blue when he steps back into the sunlight, and I spy the infamous ankh on his tie, along with a scarab beetle holding the sun of Ra.

Legend has it that the Anubis are descended from a literal god of death, but picking out truth and myth from monster origins is just about as tricky as doing it for humans.

But in this moment, with my breath fogging the stained glass as I stare at the magnificent creature on the other side of my door, I believe it.

This Anubis definitely looks like a god—or the descendant of one.

He clears his throat, one sharp, long, black claw tapping on his briefcase impatiently. Finally, he sighs.

“Ma'am, are you going to let me in?”

I squeak, tumbling back and crashing to the floor.

“N-nobody's home!” I stammer like an idiot.

Another sigh.

“Listen, I promise that you have nothing to fear. I come in peace.”