Matched To The Monster, TOO: Monster Romance (Sweet and Steamy Mail Order Brides) (The Match Program Book 2) by Rena Marks

Author:Rena Marks [Marks, Rena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Terran Publishing
Published: 2022-01-31T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Tessa:

THE UPROAR OF CHUCKLES makes spontaneous laughter burst out of me as I steer my ankle side to side, showing all the glittery angles of the beautiful shoes. The people cheer rambunctiously and several of the males clap Stratek on the shoulder. His eyes are totally on me, though, as he laughs at my outburst of laughter.

That’s all it takes to make this man happy. Laughter. Real laughter. And then he pulls me close to him and we’re waltzing across the room.

I remember this. I remember dancing with him on the balcony, laughing as he spun me round and round, showing me the dances from his land. I remember the fun, I remember laughing, I remember wishing the night would never end. But silly me did end it—because I wanted him. I took him by the hand and led him to unused guest quarters.

Stratek deposits me in the center of the dance floor and bows, and I follow with a curtsy—which isn’t exactly the way they do it, considering they don’t have legs—but it basically lowers the female. He’d explained that with their females, her tentacles would flare out to lower her.

His smile is practically glowing.

He takes my hand in his and we come together, cheek to cheek but not touching, then quickly do the other side. He drops my hand so he can move behind me, neither of us turning our heads as we move back-to-back. And then he turns so he’s facing me again, and now he can take me in his arms to move slowly across the room.

“You remember the moves,” he whispers in my ear.

“I do.”

“It must have seemed important at the time.”

“Or we danced it fifty or sixty times, along with downing shots.”

His chuckle spurs an answering giggle from me.

“It’s called the Mating Dance, Tessa,” he whispers and suddenly tugs me so close to him, it’s sensual. The lights dim in the room and other dancers finally tear their eyes from us, joining the dance floor in their own dance, taking the focus from us.

“Mating Dance?”

He prepared me for this night, even before he knew we’d be mated. Or that I’d end up pregnant.

“When a male wants his female, he shows her.”

Wants? Is he talking about sex? I can’t seem to mind; instead, the thought sends a spark of excitement through my core.

“You look so beautiful,” he says. “The perfect princess. Dressed to the nines and decorated in my colors. My marks.”

“Your markings are gorgeous,” I tell him, tracing the side of his face where they roll up over his head.

“Thank you for wearing them,” he says, dropping his forehead to mine.

When he’s there, I can focus on other things. The feel of his strong arms wrapped around me. The press of his muscled chest to mine. How large his hand is where it tenderly clasps mine. How one of his tentacles slides up my bare back, pressing the tip of the triangular placed suction cups against me like a delicate kiss. Then I’m aware of the bulge between us.

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