The Rose and the Guardian: A Dark Fantasy, Monster Romance of Prophecy, Feminine Rage, and Blue Roses by Nicole A. Sterling

Author:Nicole A. Sterling [Sterling, Nicole A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nicole A. Sterling
Published: 2025-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

32

FLESH AND FUR

“When two souls are ready, the body follows. In that joining, spirit meets flesh, and the old magic remembers its shape.”

—Elder Aïna

Noël

“Look at me,” Theron says, breathless.

The water in the stream I sit in is unusually warm, almost like it’s absorbing the heat of my embarrassment. Theron is on his knees in front of me, fur soaked and clinging to him, his crystals shining bright. His size is overwhelming. His cock—huge, hard, and impossibly close to me—makes my face burn hotter than I ever thought possible.

I force myself to look up, to meet his gaze, though my heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest.

His giant paw slides over my arm, the vólkin soap leaving a fragrant trail on my skin.

The tenderness of his touch makes my stomach flip, and I press my thighs together. Goddesses, how can someone so massive be so gentle?

“Your muscles are beautiful, Noël,” he murmurs, his deep voice sending a shiver down to the wrong place.

I’m going to pass out.

I’ve led soldiers, trained for hours, until I could barely stand, fought like a woman possessed. Yet here I am, undone by a simple bath, by Theron’s patient touch and the way he looks at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

This is beyond any bath I’ve ever had.

“In our lessons, we learn about pleasing our mate.” His eyes lift from my arm to meet mine again. “We learn that human females’ breasts are sensitive.”

I swallow hard, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“May I?” he asks.

I nod slowly.

His paw moves up my arm to my shoulder and then down to my chest. His touch is delicate, as if I might shatter under his paw. When his fingers brush over my nipple, a whimper escapes before I can stop it. I freeze, my breath caught, and his eyes flick up to mine.

“Is it good?” he asks as his fingers graze the same spot again.

“Mm-hmm,” I manage, my throat too tight for words.

His eyes darken, and he leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I want to taste it, my dove.”

I stare at his mouth, at the way his tongue flicks out to glide over the tips of his sharp fangs. The sight alone sends a jolt of heat through me, and he lowers himself to my chest.

Slowly—so slowly it’s maddening—he traces his tongue over the sensitive skin, the warmth of it flares up my nerves. “Theron,” I gasp, my fingers curling into his mane.

He growls low in response, the sound vibrating through me, and this time, when his tongue moves again, he doesn’t break eye contact. His gaze locks onto mine, so predatory it leaves me dizzy.

“You’re so incredibly soft,” Theron murmurs against my chest. His nose brushes over my now hardened nipple, and I’m overwhelmed by the sensation. “I have waited so long, Noël,” he continues, shifting to the other breast with aching slowness. “So long, I thought I’d go mad.”

My head falls back, my breaths coming faster as Theron’s tongue traces a trail of fire over my skin.

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