16

Teeth

“Now, there’s a lesson! How do I quiff with a cock trapped in my bilge?”

Her laughter echoes in the empty sea. The tone is muffled, deeper, and somehow sweeter than she sounds on land. Her carefree attitude is worth the loss of my life as a pirate. I hope I never see the haunted look in her eyes, hinting that she’s nothing more than a hollow shell of herself, again. My vibrant Sabrina is restored. The best part is I have a new landscape to learn—where I’m one of the few sentient species.

No more Dumb Teeth hiding behind bravado.

“Stop clawing at your belly,” Sabrina says, gliding on top of me. She holds my wrists against my pelvic bone, and I’ll be damned if a pocket opens below my naval. “Your charms hide in your abdomen, pirate.”

“There’s a subject where I don’t need help. Every pirate finds his cock on his maiden voyage at least once,” I quip to earn her giggle.

I’m captivated by her exotic beauty. Her wild hair floats around her head as the current moves like a wind that blows just for her. Sparkling, sea-green eyes narrow with desire. Her plump lips open slightly to taste the water around us. I wear the same expression as I intoxicate myself with her arousal permeating the water. It flows through my lips, nostrils, and gills to focus every organ in my new body on breeding her. Everywhere her slender fingers touch me burns.

My new instincts cloud my human thoughts. I don’t care how we will conceive, birth, or parent hatchlings—only the need to give them to her rippling beneath my skin matters. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her when her eyes flutter closed, and I lose the connection. She’s a gorgeous monster leaning toward my tender underbelly. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as my mind spins with images of Sabs biting through my intestines, kissing her way between my tentacles, or…

Avast ye! Her tiny tongue swirling around the pocket in my pelvis pulls a groan from the deepest parts of me. She teases the creases with her fingertips while that tongue flicks, licks, and penetrates me. Pressure builds. Fire races up my spine. A sensation akin to spilling overwhelms my nerves as my cock extrudes through the pocket. Twice the girth and a few extra inches in length make my Kraken cock a monster befitting my lady.

Goodbye human body! I’ll never miss you now!

“Bloody hell, Sabs, that felt incredible,” I pant as I push my new marriage rod as far out of my pouch as I can.

“We’re just getting started,” she replies with a giggle. She bends backward to lift her hips off me. With rapt attention, I salivate over the slit opening in her pelvis. It shines with thicker cream than the seawater surrounding us.

“You want me,” I whisper as she rolls her eyes.

I grab her narrow hips and pull her treasure box toward my hungry mouth. When she resists, my tentacles push her forward. My new strength not only puffs my chest with pride but thrills my mate, who rewards my aggression all over my chin. I feast on her slit. She’s quiet, and I struggle to remember if she was a quiet lover as a human. Squeezed eyes, bitten lower lip, and fingers tangled in my hair, my mate holds me to her. When I spear her with my tongue, her hips thrust subconsciously.

My new favorite vision is my mate lost in pleasure.

Lost in a forest of her hip-length hair, I wait for her shuddering to wane. The tremors of her climax rattle my chin and suck my tongue deeper into her body. I nuzzle my nose at the apex of the opening to trigger her delicate gasps. She pulls my hair so hard, I bet she will return to earth with handfuls released from my scalp.

Like a sweet ragdoll, she collapses against my chest. My cock wedges in the notch between two of her tentacles. She brushes and teases my sugarstick, rolling it between the appendages. The pressure and lazy tempo aren’t enough to inspire my spend but drive me mad with arousal. As she cools her feverish body, I thrust upward and take on her heat. The motion releases some of the tension at the base of my spine, but I’m helplessly seeking pleasure from the tide. My tip is too cold in the open water while my shaft burns with pent-up desire.

“You torture me, wife,” I whisper.

“Good,” she says as she plants tiny kisses along my jaw. “I’ll erase the memory of every strumpet who’s sweetened your sugarstick. Replace their faces in your mind with writhing tentacles using pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Wait until animal instincts push your human sensibilities out of your consciousness.”

Sabrina

“My dear wife,” he says with a chuckle that betrays how calm and ordered his thoughts rest. “You are sweet if you think that I have any sensibilities.”

The pressure of wedding an experienced lover could fill the deepest ocean trench. My only advantage is the growing love between us. He saves me. I comfort and teach him. We have everything in line for the perfect partnership promised by a soulbond. I just need to believe in it. I don’t need a whore’s techniques when I have the love of a wife.

With renewed confidence, I dislodge his cock from my tentacles grip. I try to slink down his body with grace, but the churning current kicks up sand around us. A halo of gold surrounds him. I’m coughing and wheezing as it clogs my gills and irritates my face. His rough thumbs caress my eyelids as he rubs the sand from my eyes. Despite the interruption to my seduction, I continue my momentum with his pre-fluid painting a line up my belly.

I hover over his purple tip and lick my lips. Shimmying my shoulders, I wedge my breasts in the joints of his tentacles. He responds with light pulses of the tentacle muscles to work my flesh. I reward him with a swipe of my tongue over his slit. The cloud of fluid he releases replaces the sand in my face with an arousal-inducing scent. My control slips a touch, and my plan to seduce him falls to the bottom of the sea. I engulf his member in one gulp, swallowing as he hits the back of my throat.

Suction hollows my cheeks. The flap between my nose and mouth seals tightly. I only breathe through my gills, so I can pleasure him longer than a human. My scalp tingles as he tentatively threads his fingers through my hair. He shakes with the struggle to hold back and treat me respectfully.

That will never do.

I lash the sensitive underside of his root with my tongue in brutal strokes while strangling his tip with my throat muscles. Trained by swallowing fish whole since I was a hatchling, my muscles match the rhythmic pulses of a woman in climax. My fingers squeeze his against my head to demonstrate my permission to use me. The rumbling growl from his chest has me lifting my gaze to check on him.

His pained snarl lights a fire in my slit. I want him…badly .

I grin with the power I have over the largest Kraken I’ve ever seen. The expression is pushed from my features as his control snaps. My nose presses against his pubic bone as he grinds. Cold saltwater lifts goose-pimples on my cheeks when he withdraws. An obstinate pout traps my prize in my mouth. He holds me, perched on the tip, whimpering for his next thrust.

My lips burn as he shoves through the opening toward the back of my throat. Over and over, they glide over his flesh. His grunts and growls are music to my ears. I clutch two of his tentacles to stop myself from fingering into my slit. He coils his tentacles around my wrists and tentacles. I’m stretched flat over him, his taste flooding my senses. Heat from his body battles with the dropping temperature of the water, keeping me on edge. His shaft pulses twice, and I bite the base gently. When I release my teeth, he releases his seed down my throat.

His hands fall to the rock with a thud. His tentacles disturb the sand as they plop lifelessly to the bottom. I lay my head on his hip, resting my cheek on the bone. My tongue flicks his softened shaft to coax it back to life. Each touch sends a jolt through his body, tensing his arms and quivering his gills next to my temple.

“Give me a second, love.”

“Not in a thousand years,” I growl. My licks progress to the sensitive underside of his tip.

“That’s my wife. Blimey, how am I ready to go again?”

“Mating fluids in my slit harden you, and you chugged them faster than a tankard of grog. I must be careful not to release too much—”

“Or what?”

I hesitate a heartbeat, long enough he raises an eyebrow at me.

“Your cock detaches.”

“Forever?”

I laugh because the horror on his face always gives me the giggles.

“It regenerates—”

“You could collect them and stuff them—”

“Don’t even think about it,” I reply, dropping my forehead onto him as I continue to laugh. “The seawater decomposes them faster than you can grow another one.”

“Blimey, my cock as fish food isn’t an image I ever want to see in real life.”

His candid confession pulls even richer laughter from the depths of my soul. This is the emotional piece our relationship never had on land. The joy, banter, and stolen moments of friends as well as lovers. It’s hotter than the magical things he does with his fingers.

“Stop teasing me, Sabs,” he says with a jarring seriousness. “How do I give you the eggs you want?”

“The more you seed my womb, the more eggs will mature into hatchlings. I’ll lay them in less than a moon cycle…and then we get to start the process all over again.”

“We don’t raise them? How are you so close to Bettina if you don’t grow up in families?” I love how his face is twisted with questions and not judgment.

“Parents abandon the egg clutch to the will of the sea. Bettina and I were in the same egg clutch,” I answer. “We’re close because we raised one another. When we visit the Atlantic Ocean in the winter, you will meet who I think is my father. His red hair, green eyes, and red tentacles are identical to Bettina’s and mine. Does the lack of parenting bother you?”

“My father abandoned us. My mother did her best but…sold her sons to merchants as cabin boys. We went into the sweet trade on different boats to escape the brutality of decent men . My mother also sold my sister, Melanie, to a brothel. Little Melanie worked herself to death before the age of sixteen. Blimey, I’d rather my children raise themselves than mess them up like my parents did me.” His frown seems to pull down his whole being instead of just the corners of his mouth .

“You don’t seem messed up to me,” I say to soothe him.

“Because I found the correct skin for this world,” he says with a bittersweet smile that hides his teeth. “Nothing more complicated than animals fighting to survive and procreate— Wait, you turn human every full moon—”

“Not anymore,” I interrupt with my hand over his mouth. “Our hatchlings may if their soulbond is tethered to land, but those bonds are none of our business.”

“All the conception but none of the responsibility?”

“It’s not all bad being a Kraken,” I whisper as I slide up his body. He bows his head to capture my mouth. I open immediately to accept his claim over me. The heaviness of our conversation has done nothing to cool my libido. If anything, he stroked the flames higher with his honest questions and revealed secrets.

“Nothing with you could be bad,” he says against my lips.

I bring our tangled tentacles into a ball beneath us. My tentacle tip teases the beak between his. I suck in seawater to rinse my slit and blow it over his engorged cock. Oh, the noises he makes twist my insides into a needy mess.

“Please,” I whine when his tentacle teases my beaked entrance in return.

“I’ll quiff you every way possible. Nothing is off-limits,” he says between labored breaths. His gills contract and release under my fingertips like little mouths. “Teach me to love you, Sabrina.”

He steals the words from my mouth with a gruff penetration of his tentacle into my beak. It wiggles, withdraws, and punches inside of me with brutal strokes. I return the favor as our tentacles form a writhing coil. Their momentum lifts us from the rock and sits us upright. Suspended in the current, we sway and drift with the building seas.

But who cares when he rolls my nipples with the decadent tugs I love?

“Like this?” He asks with his tip notched at my slit’s entrance.

“Just like on the beach,” I whine between cries. With infinite tenderness, he slides into my waiting siphon slit. We lock together as only destined mates can—bound together body to body, heart to heart, and soul to soul with loving ties.

His tentacle wedges itself higher than I have dared to stick anything up that orifice. I’m skewered on him like a marionette on her master’s stick. I wail as it curves in wicked strokes toward my inner walls as if seeking dark pleasure points .

He shoves a second tentacle in my mouth.

My eyes roll back in bliss as I suck him into my throat. As long as he doesn’t try to quiff my gills, I can breathe…

I may die from pleasure anyway.

Our bodies rub and writhe as we work ourselves into a frenzy. I’m climaxing and over-stimulated within minutes, while my experienced husband works my body to wring every last drop of excitement from me. His growls turn to grunts as his smooth thrusts lose their rhythm. Each jerk sprays my slit with seed.

My womb opens and closes like a beached fish’s mouth to gulp his gift. The rolling of dormant eggs in my abdomen shifts my orgasms to a deeper location in my body, giving my poor pleasure button on my slit’s opening a rest. A heaviness settles inside me as each egg receives Teeth’s love. The sensation combined with Teeth’s torture of my nipples blends my orgasms into a never-ending plea for more.

We spin and tumble through the Caribbean as a mass of writhing tentacles. Our opposing colors are the only clue we are two individuals and not one giant animal. My cries time themselves to ring between his grunts until he sucks one of my tentacles into his mouth. The scrape of his teeth zeros my focus onto his handsome face. My palms hold his cheeks as he seeds me repeatedly. We don’t break our gazes until we’re limp with exhaustion.

I flop uselessly in his arms as he lowers us to the sea floor. His tentacles instinctively burrow into the sand to evict any sand fleas or larger irritants. Satisfied we won’t wake with welts, he buries our lower halves. With tenderness I’ve never seen him use, he arranges my upper body and fans my hair on the bottom. His affectionate caresses as he covers my arms and shoulders with camouflaging sand bring tears to the corners of my eyes.

“Rest, my wife,” he says with a whisper of a kiss. He smooths the hair over my brow one last time before burying his belly and arms.

“I can feel our eggs,” I whisper when they shift and roll in my still body.

“Do they make you happy?”

“Yes, I love you so much.”

“Good,” he says with a sexy drowsiness in his voice. “Then my work is done.”

“What about the hurricane?”

“Rest first. Kisses second. Hurricane third,” he replies with a yawn. “Captain’s orders.”