Page 14 of Stolen By the Submarine

I skim my nose down her temple and whisper in her ear.

“I get to watch, touch, and take whenever I please.”

Her eyes glaze and she bobbles her head in mindless agreement as a cramp tightens her midsection.

“Fuck, baby, you’re being such a good girl. I want to knot you right here,” I moan before licking the shell of her ear and sitting back. “But you owe me a show. Lather up, little angel, so I can cover you in my seed again.”

Sorrow flashes across her features, but fear chases it away as she glances down at my jutting cock. With my knot mostly inflated, my veins pulse along my shaft and my tip darkens to an angry red.

She stumbles back and slips, but I catch her elbow and guide her to stand between two showerheads, so the least amount of water rains down on her.

When I sit back and brace my arms along the ledge behind me, desire smolders in the thin ring of grey around her pupils.

She shifts her gaze to the bar of soap in her hand and studies it for a moment before trying to roll it between her fingers, but her digits are too short and it slips free. With an embarrassed flush, she drops to her knees and captures the bar before it sinks to the tiles.

Her innocence pierces my heart and drains the pus festering within. I’ll never spend a night alone again.

I have this sweet little angel to keep me company.

Forever.

Chapter 7

Coral

His voice echoes in my head. One word. My name.

The combination proves disastrous. I can’t string two words together because of it.

Which makes my new endeavor baffling.

I rise onto unsteady legs and gnaw on my bottom lip. I should strike a pose or do something to make the moment more sensual, but I don’t know what. The Sisters always said my scent alone would capture any alpha’s attention, but this isn’t just any alpha. This is The Submarine. My forever mate. My Port.

I need to make him want me so badly he’ll do anything to protect my physical health and my mental wellbeing. If he breeds me, I need to nurture my babies myself, not pass them off to a wet nurse.

The soap squishes between my fingers as I stand like a dullard in the center of the shower.

Nothing comes to mind, so I touch my shoulder.

The slippery glide shocks me. I forget to think and explore my body as I’ve never wanted to before, running my hands down my arms, up my sides, along my ribs, and down my soft stomach to the curve of my hips. It’s not enough. I skim my fingertips up my belly and cup my breasts. My entire world changes as I pinch my nipples and soft, sensual sensations roll through me.

All the while, lust-darkened amber eyes watch with burning intensity and a masculine rumble encourages me to continue my exploration.

I trail my hands down to the juncture of my thighs and gasp as electricity zaps through my clit. Too sensitive for more, I continue to sink lower and play in the slick gathered between my swollen folds.

The low vibration morphs. I move my hands away from my pussy and clean my legs instead, but even without direct stimulation, my sex pulses in need.

When soap covers every inch of me, I step under the nearest showerhead and let the downpour rinse it away.

I can’t stop staring at my alpha’s long, muscular arms stretched across the back of the bench. His presence alone dominates the space, and my heart simultaneously quails and celebrates. His broad chest tapers down to ridged abdominals and a slightly narrower waist, while his thick thighs and imposing cock perfect his alpha physique.

My mouth waters as my heart quivers.

“Good girl. Now wash me,” he growls.

I hesitate. His knuckles turn white on the tiles. A wave of heat rolls up from my toes to my ears, clenching my womb along the way. The perfume of my slick overpowers the scent of soap.

I blink as tears fill my eyes. The shower is too big. Too exposed. Too cold. I need a nest.

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