Page 69 of Heart of the Deep

Dracchus shrugged. “I do not know. Arkon says they are threatened. Jax thinks they believe humans make us weak. We were all raised on that old hatred — humans were our enemy, since the birth of our people, and that could never change. It is not so easy a thing to let go.”

Larkin steadied herself with a hand on his back and bent down to clean some of the larger gashes. She bit her lip as his muscles spasmed in response, but he didn’t make a sound.

“But you let it go,” she said. “Jax and Arkon, too.”

“When I first discovered Jax with Macy, I saw her as my enemy. But she never threatened any of us. Never moved against us in any way. She stood beside Jax through everything, and she saved Melaina from a razorback, nearly losing her life in the process.” He released a long, slow breath through his nostrils. “Why would an enemy risk herself for one of us?”

“Because she was never an enemy to begin with.” Setting the cloth aside, Larkin picked up one of the tubes. The name written on its side was meaningless to her — she doubted she could even pronounce it — but the wordsLaceration Sealantwritten in smaller letters below told her all she needed to know. She looked from the tube to his wounds; the small amount of sealant wouldn’t go far, given the scope of the damage. “We’ve all made a mess of things.”

“Another trait our people have in common,” he said and turned his head to look at her hand. “No more of those liquids. They sting.”

Larkin smirked. “There’s another commonality. No matter how big they are, human and kraken men all whine when they’re hurt.”

He furrowed his brow and lifted his arms, glancing at the gashes on his sides. “I am not whining. But should I choose to, I have earned the right.”

She chuckled and shook her head, placing a hand on his arm to guide it back down. “It’s a joke. But Iamgoing to use this on your shoulder.”

Dracchus didn’t resist as she sealed the gouges on his shoulder, pinching them together with her fingers and squeezing the liquid over the cuts. She blew on them gently, and the sealant hardened within seconds.

He rotated his arm at the shoulder. Despite the movement, the wounds remained sealed. “I can feel it there, though I cannot see it.”

Larkin raised the tube and scanned the tiny print on the back. “It should dissolve once the wound heals.” She used the remaining sealant on a few of his other wounds, and then picked up a roll of bandages, pressing the end to his stomach. “Hold this here.”

He pinned the material in place with two fingers as she wrapped it around his torso. Due to his size, she was forced to walk around him, passing the roll from one hand to the other as she looped it beneath his arms.

Being so close, she couldn’t ignore the heat of his skin, and his scent soon replaced the metallic tang of blood.

She cut the bandage and tied off the end. Taking a step back, she looked him over. The worst of his wounds were sealed or bandaged, but his face and head were splattered with blood.

“All done, except…” She reached past him to pick up another cloth, splashing it with some disinfectant. “Bend your head down for me.”

Without question, he sank lower and tipped his head forward, as though ceding power to her. Larkin smiled. It seemed unlikely that he assumed this position very often. She placed her hand on his jaw and turned his face to one side. Gently, she dabbed away the drying blood, thankfully finding no wounds beneath.

Still, Larkin took her time, skimming her fingertips over his flesh to learn the feel of him. Moving closer, she slid her hand upward along his jaw until his siphon was nestled between her forefinger and thumb. She turned her face toward him and grazed his brow with her lips.

Dracchus inhaled deeply. His siphon shifted gently against her fingers as he wrapped a tentacle around her ankle, working its tip into the leg of her jumpsuit.

His touch sent a thrill through her. Dracchus was alien to her, but he wasn’t frightening or off-putting. He was pure male — confident, strong, and in control. She felt a powerful, instinctual pull toward him, had felt it even in the beginning, while he’d been a captive on the ship.

And if she chose to accept whatever was growing between them, this male would behers.

Larkin focused on the feel of his tentacle caressing her ankle. She warred within herself; there was nothing wrong with fun, nothing wrong withpleasure, but he wasn’t interested in casual fucking. He wanted a mate. He wanted family. It would be so easy for Larkin to take what she wanted —him— but she could never give Dracchus what he wanted, no matter how much she yearned to.

His hands fell to her hips, fingertips brushing her backside, and a fire ignited beneath her skin. Her core clenched as heat flooded her. Releasing a shaky breath, she closed her eyes. The cloth fell from her fingers as she smoothed her hand up his shoulder to cup the back of his neck.

“I love the scent you make for me,” he growled, tightening his grip as he drew her closer. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to her neck. Her skin tingled where they touched.

She knew in the back of her mind that she should’ve been shocked that he could smell her arousal, but it only turned her on more. She squeezed her thighs together and shifted as though it would alleviate the ache growing between them.

“Dracchus…”

His lips followed the line of her collarbone until he reached the other side of her neck, where he gently nipped. Driven by instinct, Larkin turned her face toward him and caught his mouth with hers. Their lips clashed in a flurry of passion, unable to get close enough to one another.

His groan pulsed through her, pearling her nipples, as he lifted her off the floor and carried her to the bed. Larkin deepened the kiss and wrapped her legs around his torso, giving herself over to his touch, his taste, tohim. He stole her breath, her essence, her soul, and returned it with part of his own. She drowned and lost herself within him.

Dracchus laid her on the bed and followed her down without breaking the kiss, caging her with his arms. Her thighs spread wider to allow his body to settle between them. She welcomed his weight. His muscles were hard beneath velvet-soft flesh as her hands roamed over his shoulders and back. A tentacle slid up each of her legs, beneath her clothing, to coil around her calves and stroke the backs of her knees.

She felt a prick of pain and tasted a hint of blood as one of his teeth graze her lip, but she didn’t care. It couldn’t compare to the desire coursing through her veins, which scalded her from inside out. Her jumpsuit scratched against her overly sensitive skin. She needed to feel him against her, to feel his flesh on hers, to eliminate every barrier between them.

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