48. Carol

48

Carol

Despite everything, her heart quailed as she waited for Moss to respond.

He liked her teeth. He liked her teeth. He thought they were hot. But had she pushed too far, revealing her own wants about his monstrous form?

The answer was a clear no.

Tentacles burst from his back, shadow-black and orange-spotted. They wrapped around her, binding her arms and legs. She gasped at the mixture of sensations. The soft strength of the octopus arms. The shadow tentacles like pieces of night coiled around her, numbing her skin where they touched and making the rest of her ache for more.

* Like this?* Moss asked, and her whole body flushed red with want.

The hunger that had frightened her last time roared stronger than ever. But this time she wasn't afraid. She embraced it.

Because Moss wanted her. Exactly as she was.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and snapped him close to her, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him like he was the only oxygen she needed. His tentacles tightened, constricting—but if he wanted to hold her, he'd have to fight for it.

The same way she would fight for everything that was him.

She was still careful. She dug her fingers into his scalp, tipping his head so that she could kiss him the way she wanted. Long and slow, tasting and testing. No desperate panic. No flailing uncertainty. Just her, and Moss, and no more secrets between them.

Moonlight shone silver-bright in her heart, so bright she was sure if she opened her eyes, she would see herself glowing.

She let the edge of one tooth slide sharp across his lip.

Moss groaned and pulled her close. His hands were all over her, pushing her clothes aside. And then it was like he remembered he had more than just hands. Carol gasped as more tentacles slithered under her shirt. Her skin flamed at their touch.

* Is this okay?* Moss asked, his eyes dark flames glossed with an iridescent sheen.

Her mouth shaped the word, and her mind sang it. * Yes.*

He was wearing too many clothes, too. Which made no sense, because he'd come here in shifter form, and—

* Do I have to try harder to keep your attention?* His voice was amused. Right. He could hear her surface thoughts when they were this close together, enmeshed in the aura of his kraken's presence.

* The only thing distracting me is your clothes.* She pulled at his shirt. * Deal with these, and…*

*No can do.* All at once, his tentacles left her. He drifted a tantalizing handful of inches away, arms open and empty. * That's your job.*

Was he seriously—?

Yes. He was. And the same way he read her thoughts about him keeping his clothes with him while he shifted, she sensed the hesitation he'd pushed past to lay himself out before her like this. The same worry she'd tied herself in knots over: that what she wanted, at the very core of herself, was something he'd reject outright.

* Like this?* she asked, echoing his question, and tugged him closer with one finger hooked behind a button on his shirt. She kissed her way down his neck, starting where she'd left off, until she found his collar. The fabric floated in the water, a white flag in the darkness as they drifted deeper, further from the dying evening light. * Or… like this?*

She darted away before he could reply, disappearing into the gloom.

Her pulse buzzed with excitement. Moss's confusion buffeted her, and then—

She felt the moment he understood, and the intensity of his response slid up her thighs, coiling sinfully between her legs.

Darkness pressed tight all around them. With her shark's eyes and senses, she could see and "see" Moss still—but human eyes wouldn't be able to penetrate the gloom. And she would bet he was keeping his eyes human for this.

She swam beneath him, barely moving, so he wouldn't sense the ripple of water as she passed.

At the last moment, she reached out and slid her fingernails over his ankle.

He twisted in the water. She was already gone. The excitement thrilling in her veins didn't lose any of its urgency but smoothed out, becoming slick and sharp. Her shark was no longer in the back of her mind; it swam alongside her thoughts, lending her its power.

Silent. Assured. A hunter from the dawn of time; a predator that never stopped.

Moss's hair waved in the water as he turned this way and that. His heartpulse buzzed against her senses.

Another slow approach, an ambusher's silence in the water, and as he twisted towards her she cut one button from his shirt.

Another. And another. Always sweeping behind him before he could catch a glimpse, cutting through the water like she was born for it.

She was. She was a shark shifter. The ocean was dangerous, fickle and merciless and unstoppable—and it was her home.

The same way this man with the ocean in his eyes was.

Home. Hers.

She undid the button on his pants. Slid one finger under the waistband, and this time as he jerked towards her she raked her teeth along his hip. Not a bite.

Not exactly a caress, either, but desire bloomed along the mate bond like blood in water.

He liked this. He liked what she was doing. What she wanted to do, teasing him with teeth and nails and the deliciousness of fear.

And that was a thrill beyond anything she'd imagined.

She got rid of his pants and took him into her mouth, a long, slow swallow. Risk shivered beneath her skin. Moss's fingers twitched. But he didn't reach for her; he let her keep going.

Lips soft, she sucked him in, the points of her fangs a fraction of an inch from his cock. She ran her tongue over him. Teased him with the slightest hint of a bite.

He groaned so deeply she felt it in her bones. * Carol—*

She looked up at him, her shark senses piercing the gloom. They'd drifted far beyond the surface now, but the hint of light behind him still looked like a halo. His eyes were soft and full of wonder.

Slowly, fixing him with her eyes, she dragged her mouth down him. It was intimacy on a knife's point, and she was holding the blade. How much longer could he hold on?

* Not long,* he admitted. Her thoughts had been too close to the surface again? * That's right. Like flying fish. Couldn't—ah—couldn't miss them.*

His own thoughts were fraying like rope under tension, each unraveling thread burning with desire. * I don't want you to finish me like this,* he admitted, rushing to get the words out before he lost all control. * I want to come inside you.*

Desire spiked between her legs. But—

* Don't worry.* Iridescence ghosted over his dark eyes. * I haven't forgotten my promise.*

Tentacles burst through the dark water all around him, winding around her arms and legs. She was pinned, spreadeagled. Moss rose above her—still haloed by the sun filtering from the surface far above, but with lust burning through the soft wonder in his gaze.

She couldn't escape. The kraken's shadow tentacles numbed her where they touched, but she could still feel their strength. He could move her any way he wanted and she couldn't move at all.

And where the kraken's tentacles were strong and unyielding, the octopus's were dexterous and clever, exploring every inch of her bared skin and stealing beneath her clothing to find more.

One twined up her back, finding the catch of her bra. Another snuck under her waistband, echoing the way she'd teased Moss. It traced down the dip of her hip, caressing the top of her thigh with a touch that was light. Gentle. Infuriating.

And then Moss was only a few inches above her, cupping her chin in his hands. His kiss was cool water on a hot day. The peace before a wave crashed down.

He was a monster beyond what he'd always feared—not trapped in the kraken's form, imprisoned far beneath the waves and waiting the call to kill, but a chimera of everything shifter magic made him; man and octopus and kraken, in one strong, masterful form.

The first time she'd seen him she thought he looked like a god of the ocean.

And now he was.

Desire shimmered through her, a pulse that broke apart and reformed like quicksilver, gathering wherever he touched but he was touching her everywhere. Heat bloomed across her skin and she kissed him deeper, hands tangling in his hair, chasing that shimmering electric thrill, chasing more.

The bond between them glowed like the moon. Weightless in the water, he lifted her towards him, the touch of his cock between her thighs a wildfire that blazed through every other sensation.

All his tentacles tightened around her. His hands gripped her—and she held onto him with all she had, arms and legs and almost, almost teeth. His heartpulse was everywhere and all around her. She'd hunted him down, caught him.

And he'd lured her in.

Everything she was quivered in anticipation.

He pushed into her, no prep this time, only the exhilarating pressure of being filled inch by inch. She moaned, almost a yelp, the taste of salt bright in her open mouth and her throat, as his tentacles dug into her upper thighs. The numbness made what she could feel burn even brighter, until there was nothing in her mind except the electric pulse of sensation. Touch. Thrust. Slide. A tentacle tickling beneath her ear, his kisses on her lips and her neck, his thighs like tree trunks thick and solid between hers, his cock and fingers and every other part of him coaxing pleasure from her body until she cried out wordlessly into the darkened sea.

Orgasms were supposed to end, weren't they? But this one kept going on and on, each touch rekindling the swell of pleasure until they swept all thoughts from her mind. She was a single shivering thread of sensation, unwound and unbound, floating in the black.

The swell receded. She came back to herself, bit by bit, thoughts blinking like distant stars. And Moss was there, inside her and all around her. Holding her safe.

* I love seeing you lose yourself,* he confided, his whisper a prayer. * You always watch yourself so carefully. I love the fact that you trust me so much to let me do that for you.*

*You trust me too,* she reminded him. Putting words to her thoughts felt strange, like piecing together part of herself that was still content to drift beneath endless dark skies.

And it made it real.

* You trusted me when I turned up with a baby dragon and you had no way of knowing if I'd stolen her or not. You trusted me when I said I'd been attacked by shifters that nobody's ever heard of, and when I told you they aren't our enemy. You trusted me when I called the kraken, and you came to me. Even though you didn't think you could stop it—stop yourself—killing all those people.* She touched a hand to his face. * I've spent so long making myself small and hidden, and you showed me I didn't need to. I can lose myself with you because I know it's safe to find myself again.*

And she wanted the same thing for him. The ocean performed its slow dance all around them. His heart hammered beneath her hands, and she tensed her thighs and pulled him in close. Her body still sang with the after-echoes of her own orgasm; now she shepherded him along the edge of his. Closer, closer, but so slowly.

Moss groaned and let his head fall on top of hers. Every one of his limbs, human and monster, embraced her. * I love you,* he whispered into her mind. * I don't know how I ever lived without you. You found me when I thought I'd lost everything and have given me so much more. I want to show you every part of the world I know, and discover so much more with you by my side. *

Carol blinked. Behind his words, the kraken's immense mind felt suddenly… at peace.

She understood.

Then he kissed her again, matching her excruciating slowness with his own movements, her over-sensitized nerves welcoming every touch. He thrust faster and harder, her hips snapping towards his and his hold on her preventing her from moving away. She would never have moved away. She wanted him, every part of him and every moment of this , pressure building in and around them both until the whole universe seemed to spin around them. He came inside her, claiming her with his mouth and his hands and his seed.

He hadn't wanted to the last time. He'd still planned on leaving, then, and didn't want to hold on to her in any way that was permanent.

But now? Was he still planning to lock himself away?

The question washed from her to him, and he raised his head, eyes dazed with satisfaction, hunger sated but also greater than before. He'd tightened his grip on her as he came. Maybe she would bruise. Another impermanent mark of the permanence they'd chosen with each other, like the tiny bites she'd left on his skin. A physical sign of the silver bond that held them together and would never, ever let them lose one another again.

* I'm yours,* he said simply. * I'm not going anywhere.*