Page 90 of Bride of the Sea King

Triton kissed my shoulders and throat, stroking my skin as I came, and came, and came. My eyes watered from overwhelming pleasure, not pain.

“How long?” I choked out.

“Only a few more seconds, Sweetheart. I can feel them starting to loosen.”

I moaned.

He kissed my throat again, still slowly rubbing my arms and breasts through my pleasure.

The barbs finally eased a moment later, and I was panting violently when they disappeared completely into his erection, ending my orgasm.

“Holy fuck,” I panted, earning a low laugh.

“You feel good?”

“Way more than good.”

“I need to get you back to the grotto now, so I’m going to have to pull out.”

I made a noise of protest, and he chuckled. “I know, Sweetheart, but I’m not taking you again in this bathroom. I want to hear your screams of pleasure freely while I breed you.”

“How long does this last?”

“Until your final scale falls.” He dragged his thumb over the place I’d lost one on my back. “We’ve got all night.”

He eased me off his erection, and I couldn’t help my sounds of pain.

I felt too empty without him inside me.

I needed him.

He fixed our clothes and held me to his chest as he carried me out of the bathroom. People were probably staring, but I didn’t notice them.

Triton was all I saw. All I cared about. All I wanted.

Tonight he owned me completely, and I didn’t want it any other way.

It feltlike it took forever to reach our room. I kept moving against Triton, trying to find relief, but he didn’t give me what I wanted while we were in the hallway.

As soon as we landed on the platform in the grotto, bypassing the pond and lake entirely, I was shoving his clothes down.

“Skirts shouldn’t look this good on men,” I mumbled, struggling with the fabric. My hands were shaking too much. Hell, my whole body was.

He chuckled, putting his hands on mine and helping me work the fabric down. Before it even hit the floor, I was staring, my lips parted and my chest rising and falling quickly.

Eloise’s diagram was accurate.

Two entire penises, sort of stacked. One on top of the other. Both hard and ready, standing up straight. The bottom one was thinner, so I had no question which part of me it was made for.

“Are they both sensitive?” I asked.

“Very.” He lifted my hand and stroked the bottom erection with it, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.

I wrapped my fingers around the top one, still sticky with our releases. Not as sticky as I was, but still.

I made a soft sound of need, squeezing my thighs together as slickness dripped down the insides of them.

“You need more,” he rumbled.

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