Chapter Four

I 've been domesticated. I don't like it. A century ago, I would have grabbed the nearest male and mounted him. Not only that, but he would have been glad about it. Unlike most of my sisters who smiled prettily before showing their razor-sharp teeth, grabbing a man by the neck, and sucking his soul out, I made sure that all of my meals left this mortal coil with a smile on their faces and fully satisfied.

But now, I look around the gym and I notice that men are there with their wives or maybe in their little packs of work buddies, lifting weights and laughing in groups of twos and threes. I know how to discreetly get between a mark and his packmates at a party, but it's a little harder when the room isn't filled with writhing bodies all humping to the music, practically having sex on the dancefloor.

I don't have the energy to bounce sexily on the treadmill in front of them, lifting my ass and swaying my hips. I need to get back in the water.

I head back to the new edition.

It's nothing but beige, teal, and white, a concrete imitation of the Bahamas. I'm pleased that the pool is pristine and mostly unused. A staff member walks around the edge with a bored look and then exits back to the main gym. I slide into the water with a sigh, tying my long white gown up on the side like an asymmetrical swimsuit.

Water seeps through my skin and floods my cells. Relief, the first pleasure they've known in hours. Water will help me keep going for a little longer, but what I really need—

Just walked in the door.

He's tall, dark, and handsome, with wide shoulders and two broad, flat pectorals that beg to be bitten, leading to a ripple of abdominal muscles that are defined enough to be alluring without being the focal point of his body.

His whole body is worth looking at, from the curls of his hair to the way his calves curve with long, lean muscles. A swimmer. A runner. Fit, but not a professional.

I size up men like a butcher carves out cuts of meat.

Maybe it's the hunger talking, but it's the first time—well, the first time in two centuries that I can't take my eyes off of a man because he's so captivating.

He's mine.

For tonight, I mean.

Just for tonight.

THE SECOND I SIT DOWN on the edge of the steps, the only other person in the pool sits next to me. She leans against the wall of the pool, eyes closed, lips parted just a little as she sighs.

I slide into the water fast, hoping she doesn't open her eyes in time to see that staring at her has had an obvious effect on me. My body has never reacted to a woman like that. I mean, I've seen a ton of hot women, and I have normal physical reactions, but this woman...

Fuck, she must have that new pheromone perfume on.

Shut up, Kev. That's not true science. You know that.

You were already horny. Swim away. Swim fast, swim far.

I do, plunging down to the end of the pool with deep, hard strokes, breaking the water with my cupped hands, pummeling it like it owes me money.

When I turn back to swim the length of the pool in the opposite direction, I'm staring at her. Her body sinks below the water until only her head rests above.

Her skin is so pale, it glows, and long chestnut waves curl down her shoulders and fan out in the water while she rests there, totally unconcerned. She obviously doesn't know how breathtaking she is, or she wouldn't be sitting here in some deserted gym pool. She'd be walking on runways. No, posing for the world's best artists and photographers.

Everything about this girl screams for attention, for my eyes to be on her—and all she's doing is sitting still.

I slow my strokes. I want to look at her for longer. Like, my brain is telling me something is off, or something is up... or maybe I'm just horny.

Her head tips back, and I can actually hear her breath escape in a sigh as she sinks deeper into the water.

I dip my head again, eyes open, watching her body move, oh so subtly, on the painted white steps, hips restless, long legs curling and stretching, then crossing again.

When I come up for air, her eyes open and meet mine, as if she knew exactly where my gaze would be, as if she knew I'd be staring at her as I flounder toward the shallow end.

I duck my head under the water, but that's worse.

This girl has the perfect pin-up body wrapped in skin-tight fabric, and now her hands join the action, coasting down her sides, lingering at her hips.

Her legs part, and one hand trails gracefully between them.

I come up for air with a gasp that has nothing to do with needing to breathe.

The haunting eyes are closed now. Was the glide of her hand to her middle just an accident? I mean, no, not an accident. Maybe she had to tug her suit back into place. She didn't know I was looking. Or did she?

And holy shit, why? Why is this the most erotic, enticing thing I've ever seen?

My body stops a few feet from hers, but I might as well be tethered to her side. I can't stop staring. Something isn't wrong with the girl—something is wrong with me . Up close, she's beautiful, with skin like milk and smooth as glass. Water beads up on it.

She's like an angel of the sea.

"Do you swim a lot?" I ask.

Fuck. Where's my boy, Kev? The one with a brain and a reasonably smooth tongue?

"Every day. I love the water. Live for it. Even my... office is a little houseboat. An old one from when Pine Ridge was a canal stop."

"Wow. An antique." I have no idea when the fuck canals existed in this country. Before airplanes. I hated history as a kid, loved science.

She can educate me.

Hell, I want to play student and teacher right now, but the subject is definitely going to be chemistry.

Remember what I said about grooves? I can fit in hers. I know that right from the start. Funny how I'm so clear on something while I also feel suddenly a little bit drunk.

"Yes, very old. Very simple, but I don't spend much time there." Her smile dazzles me, warm and friendly, while her eyes glint and travel up and down my body. "You swim. You have the stroke and the body for it. Ran track, too. Hurdles? Sprints?"

I'm impressed. She sized me up in seconds. I chuckle as I confirm, "All of the above, but I'm no track star. I hated competing."

"I hate senseless competition, too. One's physical joys should remain that—joyous. For fun."

"I mean, I like sports. My brothers are big on the college circuit. Not the same college." I'm babbling, and I have to stop. I swallow and say something I would hate to have anyone ask me, but shit, my blood is all flowing south. "You have a really beautiful voice. Where are you from?"

"I was born in the East Siberian Sea." Her eyes flicker far away, then snap back. "I mean, in a little fishing town on the coast."

"Cool. Um. Lived here long?"

"Yes, for the last..." Her eyes flicker back and forth from the overhead lights to the water below. "Goodness, it's been many years. You must be new here. I know most people in town, or at least recognize them—other than the students." Ocean-blue eyes study me. "They come and go."

"Well, I'm here for a year to two years, at least. Finishing up my Doctor of Physical Therapy degree and working at the health annex. I'll stick around longer if I like it." Or if something catches my interest. Or some one .

Like the goddess in a clinging white bathing suit.

Did her eyes get bigger? Her smile is dark cherry, her teeth glimmering for a split second before she speaks. "Then I'll have to do everything in my power to make you feel welcome. We need good medical staff in small communities."

I love the edge of a laugh that's under her voice. Even more, I love how her fingers are on my wrist now, and how my hand finds its way easily to her waist.

This is faster and harder than any club hookup. Her wet fingers smooth their way up to my shoulder. She doesn't speak, just holds my gaze, waiting until my lips meet hers.

The thought that we're strangers dies a swift death.

The loud, sensible voice telling me we haven't done blood tests, we don't know each other's history, we haven't talked about birth control—muted by something in her soft mouth, stolen by her talented tongue.

Even the last vestige of Responsible Kev screaming that we're in public does nothing to deter me as her breasts press into my chest.

"I don't know your name," I gasp when she lets me breathe. I have the feeling she could keep kissing me for hours. Already my knees feel weak from the way her tongue wrapped around mine and sucked it into her mouth. If you'd asked me yesterday, I would have said that kissing like that was impossible. I would have told you that a simple kiss couldn't make me hard enough to pop at the slightest touch.

"It's Marina, and every question you're asking—I have the right answers."

Confidence is sexy—but I'm not entirely stupid. "Enlighten me?" I flex my fingers on her backside, and while she's fairly slender, her rump has the perfect amount of cushion. What's more, she melts into me, hands on my chest, practically purring.

Damn. I hope those answers are good because I'm tempted to overlook almost anything.

"I'm clean. I'm not able to have children. I'm sure that could be a deal breaker if I was looking for a husband—but I'm not." Her lips smile, then turn down. Marina's eyes are guilty. "Was that...something you were looking for?"

I laugh, startled by her directness, but damn, it's refreshing. "Yeah, that's what I want... but I don't need it right now ." Right now, it's entirely possible I would trade my diploma for an hour with this girl. I don't know what it is about her, but she's like an instant, insatiable high.

Like some kind of magic.

"Okay. Then, let me tell you what I would like right now—?" Her eyes crinkle at the corners, a soft, curious smile on parted lips, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

"Kevin. Kev, please."

"Kev, of the broad shoulders and the slender hips. Kev, who enchants the eye and delights the ear." One finger traces down the midline of my chest and stops at my waistband.

I got nothing. I've never been called enchanting or delighting before, and I'm kind of into it. The way Marina moves with such confidence reminds me of some rich cougar who can have any boytoy she wants...but Marina must be just about my age, mid-twenties, maybe even thirty, but a perfect, gorgeous thirty.

I blink so I don't come off as a creepy, staring stalker. As I'm about to ask her to come back to my place, she grips my hand and pulls me toward the edge of the pool.

"Have you seen the new sauna?" she whispers.

"No."

"It's the perfect place to go if you want to get steamy."

IT MAKES SENSE, NOW . Why Country Pines turned up nothing for me, why I had to ache another day.

This man is a masterpiece, not just in classically beautiful male physique, but in the energy he radiates. I've rarely felt anything like it. Calm. A lighthouse in a storm, a focal point in swirling chaos.

I swallow hard. Only one other I've tasted resonated energy like that...and he's long, long gone.

Jakob Minegold would probably taste like this, but more reserved.

Before I can dwell on the past, I escort Kevin through the little walkway shower where swimmers are supposed to rinse off their chlorinated bodies before hitting the sauna.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Kev asks as I push him onto the wooden seats in the dark, steamy box that glows a dusky red from soft lights bouncing off fragrant cedar.

I nod, tossing my hair back over one shoulder and sinking to my knees. "Close your eyes and relax. I won't take long."

"Huh? No." Kev stops my hand as I reach his crotch, feeling the solid length beneath it. "I'm going to need more than fifteen minutes in here. My place is by the college. We can go there after? Or now?"

"After." I can barely keep from squealing. He's a two-course meal, maybe even three! But I urgently need what he has right now, and I don't intend to let him delay my feast for another second.

His cock bounces free the second I pull down the wet waistband of his burgundy swim trunks, and my mouth sinks down on him. He tastes clean and wet, and I savor the fact that there are water drops clinging to the dark brown crown. Gorgeous and covered in water?

He's the perfect meal.

My teeth are pointed, like a predator's, with longer canines and triangles that interlock when I clamp down. Humans never notice—they never notice a lot of things. Like how long my tongue is, and how it moves. Right now, it swirls around Kev's cock as I inhale the delicious masculine scent of him, overlaid with tones of cedar and steam, drizzled in water and sweat. He's like chocolate with a hint of pink, dark and delicious. My tongue pulses and pulls as it corkscrews around his length, covering him from tip to root, and I begin to bob my head.

In seconds, his hands clasp to the sides of my head, a soft, steady stream of awed curses and questions flowing from his parted lips. "Wh-at? How? How are you doing that?"

Hm. He's a little smarter than most humans, but fortunately, pleasure erases a lot of observational skills.

I'm very good at delivering pleasure. Unlike most humans, I have very few limits. I "need the seed," as Calder's Janet once said. I don't mind what I do to get it, as long as everyone's happy.

Right now, I continue to suck on his cock, head and tongue double-teaming the swelling stiffness as the first salty drops of pre-cum slide across my palate, sending shivers of relief through my body. Just a little more...

The tip of my tongue extends, swiping across the reddish-brown sack between his thighs. I feel him stiffen, and I moan, half for effect, half in enjoyment. I'd love to draw this out, but I can't wait any longer. I look up at him and see him observing me through squinted eyes as he breathes in shakily through his nose and out through his lips, frantic little puffs.

With a practiced tug, I let my breasts fall free and bring my hands up to cup them. I squeeze my nipples hard, tugging them in time with the pulses of my mouth, and soon I feel the answering throb in my pussy. My moan is loud and hungry this time.

Kev bursts. A delectably salty sweet like honey and peanut butter fills my mouth and throat, but I keep sucking, draining every drop as he bites his lip to keep from shouting through his climax.

Fullness. Full. Properly full for the first time in weeks. My stomach and soul feel instantly better, even though I know I'll need to feed again soon. When I've been so hungry for so long, fullness is fleeting, but I admit... just one hit from this man makes the hunger pangs I felt only moments ago turn into a distant memory.

Legs feeling oddly shaky, I get to my feet, only to find myself airborne, yanked up by the hips as hungry lips smash down onto the sensitive spot above my collarbone. "Wh—"

I don't even get to finish before my back hits the hot wooden wall and Kev's fingers are between my legs, pulling my swimsuit to the side. "Fuck, Marina. Where'd you learn that?" he demands between biting kisses along my throat, kisses that deliver just the kind of tingling, nipping pressure I crave.

"Practice." It's true. I gasp when two fingers plunge inside my hot sheath, already soaking—always, endlessly soaking, always ready to feed.

"You made me hard again. In seconds." Kev's eyes narrow, studying me.

I pull his head back to mine as his fingers plunder, thumb on my clit, fingers stroking in and out pointedly. He knows anatomy, or he's had a long line of satisfied women behind him—or both.

For a second, there's the faintest touch of jealousy, one I never have with my lovers. I'm usually glad they have someone else to go to because I certainly don't want them.

Only...

"So wet for me, baby. And your pussy feels... God, I've never felt anything like it."

I'm distracted for a second, unsettled and hoping he's only paying me idle compliments. The inside of me is different. My vaginal walls are covered in a thousand microscopic suckers, with some bigger ones in strategic locations. They're so densely packed that most men would just notice an extra soft, succulent texture.

Kev seems to press the limits of ignorance, lining up two fingertips with the large central disc that sits directly underneath my clit. Pressing on it through the thin, wet membranes is like teasing my clit and my insides all at once. With a harsh cry, I feel my sucker trying to close around his fingertips and suck him in.

"Pussy like your mouth, girl." Kev rests his head to mine as he pins me to the wall, fingering me without pause. "Sucks me right in."

"I'm always hungry for cock."

"You sure you're not looking for a husband?"

It's said with a playful laugh, no stress, no pressure. This man must have a good sense of humor.

I lick my lips when I smile between kisses, still tasting that sweet combination that reminds me of peanut butter and honey.

It's my turn to gaze at the Adonis in front of me with narrowed eyes.

All men have a unique flavor to me. Succubi will probably tell you the same. I don't know what my distant demonic cousins taste, but to me, all men taste like different vintages of spirit, from fine wine to a fifty-cent beer. My last lover of note, a benefit that became a friend, was fae royalty. He tasted like the finest, smoothest whiskey.

Only one other man has tasted like food—a traditional dessert served in those brief glimpses of arctic summer—sweet cream with berries. He was the only one who ever sated me, the only one who curbed my reckless appetite.

For two years, he was all I tasted, all I needed. I fed less and yet felt much fuller.

Over two centuries have passed, and I've never been able to find a meal that filled me the way he did.

I'll never find anyone like him again...

"Want to wait until we get home?" Kev's voice, a sweet, low rumble against my breast, breaks my reverie.

I blink and push away sad, sweet memories, memories I have no right to claim.

"I can't wait," I whisper, because I'm greedy and I need to feed. It's a shame to waste a perfectly good erection, and besides, his fingers are still playing with my sweet spot, teasing his fingers in and out of it, pushing into my clit through the underside. He might make me come before I make him come, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Professional pride and all.

"Then just relax and come for me, angel," he hisses, head bending back to rest on my breast. "I might have to put you down soon."

"I'm surprised you've held me up this long." You're just a normal human.

"You don't weigh much. With those curves, baby... I thought there might be more to lift, but there's not." He winks at me. "You hollow?"

He's eerily close to the truth. Rusalkas are vertebrates, but we're marine creatures, and we're more cartilage than hard bone. It makes us incredibly flexible—and I'm going to show him that right now.

"Speaking of curves..." I drop my suit with a practiced flourish and smile. "They're slippery when wet. Take me for a test drive, handsome stranger."

I THINK MARINA LIED to me. I don't think she was born in a little fishing village and now lives on an antique houseboat. I think she works as a contortionist at some traveling circus because the girl just swung her long-ass leg in a perfect arc from where it was sitting around my hip and pivoted herself off of me like she was executing some sort of sexual roundhouse kick. She twists and lands, ass up, pussy out.

The girl is a strawberry sundae with vanilla skin and a pink pussy. Even her tight little pucker is pink, like a cherry on top.

Test drive? I'm ready to sign on the dotted line.

"Come here and fuck me," she instructs over her shoulder as she kneels on one of the benches in the sauna, her long chestnut hair spilling down her back. Her fingers reach between her legs, and she parts her nether lips with a come hither smile that would pull a priest out of a pulpit.

She doesn't have to tell me twice. I've obviously lost my damn mind because I no longer care if someone interrupts us. I will pay the fine, do the time, and even lose my brand-new gym membership if I can put my cock in that magical pussy of hers.

Magical. I keep using that word, and it's starting to be one of the words I associate with her.

"Didn't make you come yet," I apologize—but I'm not going to wait to accept her invitation. I step out of my shorts and line myself up behind her.

"You will. You'll feel it."

The second I invade her, I feel like something's sucking me in deeper. Walls turn and grind on me, a sweet silky hand milking my cock. "You've got muscles like nothing I've ever felt." My hands grip her ass cheeks, and I just stand, lost in whatever the hell she's doing to me.

"Move with me. It gets even better," she whispers.

I do, an inch at a time, starting small and getting more athletic as she moans. At first, I think her moans are just for me, but then I notice some little mumbles sneaking in between her deep, throaty cries, and her hand slides between her thighs.

Her words sound guttural, a language I don't know, and her pussy grips tighter and tighter. I'm trying to find that soft spot I found with my fingertips, but I'm in to the hilt, and it was almost at the entrance. I pull back and change angles as I study her restless form, her pink petals flared around my much darker cock.

"Oh! Вот именно ! Вот именно, Kevin!"

I think that's Siberian for "Right there, stud muffin!"

Her hand reaches back and snags my wrist as her ass shimmies up and down, pulling my tip into the spot I'm calling the Magical Circle. It almost feels like a mouth, a tiny little mouth, is sucking on the head of my cock.

"Right there, right there, fuck me harder, right there!" Marina pants.

I obey easily. I want to make her feel as good as she made me. I somehow feel like I'm out of my league, like Marina is a sexual athlete and I'm just the towel boy. But when she comes, I'm in the major leagues.

"Ahhh, ahhh! Fu- uuuck !" Marina's spine bows downward, and I feel her clinging walls shudder hard and fast.

I don't even have time to think about pulling out. I'm coming, that greedy little mini-mouth inside of her draining my cum.

As soon as I'm done, I'm dizzy. I sit down hard on the bench beside her, wondering if there's some sort of hallucinogenic in the pool water. "Are you okay?" I ask. I don't know what else to ask. I want someone to ask me if I'm okay because I'm suddenly worried I just had an acid trip.

No woman can do what my woman just did. I mean, my Marina. I mean, just Marina .

She's not mine. Yet.

Slow down, Ace. You have compromised blood flow to your common sense.

"I feel glorious." Marina swallows audibly between pants, smiling at me with dazed eyes.

"I didn't give you my best moves." I feel like I have to apologize. It was quick. Both times, it was so quick, even for a guy who's been saving it up for a while.

My head is spun. It's never been like this, not even my first time.

Sex that good is a gift, and I feel like my appreciation was way below par.

My knees are still shaking.

I reach for Marina's hand and just hold it for a minute. She's panting, too, quietly now. My stomach twists. God, I've been stupid. We don't know each other. There's no one around this part of the gym. What if she's having second thoughts about what we did? "Come on, baby. Your appetite as big as mine after that workout?"

She leans against me, still quiet, but smiling up at me now. "Your place?"

"Mhm."

"You're new in town. Have you been to the store?"

"Fridge is fully loaded. Meats, fruits, veggies, snacks... Yep." Good. I sound more responsible. Maybe a little like a nerd, but not like the kind of man who always picks up hot girls in a pool. After my hasty dick-lead encounter, I'm trying to scrape back some points and show her I have two sides. Impulsive, yet mature and capable of holding down a job and filling my fridge like a grown-ass man.

Why do you care, Kev? This is classic no-strings sex. Welcome to being single and in another state from your parents.

No. It's a little more than that.

I like this girl, not just the physical side. There are other things I like, hints of things I'm only just discovering—you know, since we barely know each other.

Marina rises, using my shoulder for support. I'm puffing up with manly pride when I notice her knees are shaky, too. "All right, Mr. Fully Loaded." There's innuendo in her voice that goes straight between my legs. "I can cook us dinner?"

She cooks, too? This is crazy. Too good to be true.

"You do that, and I'll make us breakfast." I rise with her, and we share a naked kiss before retrieving our clothes.