Page 4 of Stranded with the Kraken
“What is it?” she asks.
Her brown eyes are wide, her lips swollen from my kisses, and I can’t resist going in for another taste. She moans into my mouth and digs her fingers into my hair. She’s not one to sit passively and wait for me but demands more, until I capitulate, grab her hips, and lift her into my lap. Arielle makes a surprised sound, then melts against me, her arms looping around my neck as she presses herself closer.
Rutisn’t even the right word, but some of my friends, a wolf shifter pack, use it to describe the frenzy that takes over when nature reminds us that we’ve found our perfect partner. Maybeheatwould be a better one, because I’m burning up, my body radiating warmth. It’s all to prepare myself for spending a long time in the water while mating—because my ancestors did it in the ocean, not a hot, covered pool.
“Wait,” I gasp between kisses. “Arielle, wait.”
She seems almost dazed. She pushes herself away from me enough to meet my gaze. “Okay,” she pants. “Yeah. Sorry. But you kissed me—I didn’t—I mean…”
She drags her hand through her hair and seems to collect herself. Her eyebrows draw together when she glances down and realizes she’s now sitting in my lap.
I tighten my grip on her luscious hips before she can decide that she wants to move away from me. I don’t think my monster self would react very well to any sort of distance between us now that I have her in my arms.
“You were going to show me,” she murmurs. “You said you’d tell me what you are.”
There’s too much at stake, I know that. If she decides she doesn’t want me, I don’t know how I’ll ever bring myself to try another date. I’ve never been kissed like this in my life, and my body has never responded so strongly.
“Yeah.” I put my forehead against hers for a moment. “All right.”
As I set her back on the deck chair cushion next to me and stand, my instinct howls at me to keep holding on to her. But that’s my primal side talking, because how am I supposed to undress myself while still clutching her?
So I turn my back on her and walk toward the edge of the pool. I drag my cashmere sweater over my head, unbutton the cuffs and collar of my shirt, and tug it off with one swift move. I unzip my slacks, let them slip off my legs, and kick them aside.
A delighted gasp from behind me has me turning around to Arielle. She’s staring at me, her lips slightly parted, the buttons on her jeans undone. I cock an eyebrow at her, and she looks down at her hands, then jerks them away from the waistband, as if she didn’t realize what she was doing.
The gesture gives me hope. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s losing control.
But she rallies quickly. Her smile turns wicked, and she says, “Well?”
I’ve never been self-conscious about my human body. I know enough about humans to know that I got lucky in the gene lottery, and getting naked in this form has never been an issue. So I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my boxer briefs and push them down, then straighten, letting Arielle look her fill.
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Listen,” she murmurs, “if you’re any larger in your monster form, we might have a problem.”
I grin, then glance down at my hard cock and give it a lazy stroke. “Don’t worry about that.” A growing bubble of hope threatens to burst inside my chest, so I know I must act fast before I get completely lost in the way she’s staring at me.
“Ready?” I ask.
Arielle gives me a quick, decisive nod.
I take a deep breath—and step back, letting myself fall into the pool.
CHAPTER3
ARIELLE
Jasper falls in a slow arc, and I let out a shriek. He drops into the pool, sinking under the surface with a surprisingly small splash—he’s like an Olympic diver, sleek and nimble. I jump to my feet and hurry to the edge of the pool to watch him. He dives, twisting underwater. The pool must be much deeper than I first thought, at least ten feet on this side.
He breaks the surface and slicks his hair back. It’s darkened by the water, but the glow from the pool reflects strangely on it—because it seems bluish now, no longer dark blond. His skin has changed somewhat, turning from a warm golden color I admired earlier to a cooler tone, and its texture seems to be shifting, too. Water droplets run off his shoulders in rivulets—it’s a small difference, but my mind keeps trying to reconcile what it knows with what I’m seeing, and I know something’s not entirely right.
He blinks at me, and my stomach swoops—because his eyes, which were a gorgeous hazel before, now glow golden, the irises vertical like a cat’s. Then I finally process the most marked difference of all, which took me a while to notice because I thought I was merely being tricked by how water fractures images.
Jasper’s legs have disappeared. Instead, a mass of thick, bluish-purple tentacles roil in the pool beneath him. Mouth open, I stare at him, trying to figure out what I’m seeing. His powerful upper body, still muscled like before, tapers into a narrow waist, and where his hips should be, tentacles flare out. They’re wiggling underwater, apparently keeping him afloat without issue, because he’s not even moving his arms.
I force myself to tear my gaze away from those long limbs and focus on his hands—they’re not entirely human-shaped anymore either. His fingers are now webbed, delicate skin stretching between each digit.
“What—?” I choke out finally.
Jasper swims a little farther away from me. “A kraken.”
