Page 10 of The Mer-Mate
“Nothing has ever pleased me as this,” he gasps. “Do not stop.”
I ease my fingers in, so carefully, watching his face contort. I have no idea what I’m doing. His responses are the only thing guiding me. And Ilovethe effect this is having on him.
A swell crests inside me. I’m fingering my merman.
Every little twitch of my pinky makes the tips of his tail shake. Every brush of my thumb makes him groan. I take the flat of my tongue and lick his nipple as I twist my fingers inside him, and I swear the lights in the cave brighten.
He’s tight, but I wiggle my fingers deeper, until my entire hand slides home, and his slit clamps down around my wrist.
Oh, hello.
His balls are just inside, protected. The thought that human men would kill for that adaptation flits across my mind, but my merman and I can compare anatomy stories later. When I reach deeper, I feel it for the first time, and his fear that my body might not take him makes sense.
His cock ishuge. It’s rock-hard length tucked up against his body. Tremors shake him as I work my way up his length, checking in with him constantly to make sure I’m not hurting him.
With his hand curled around the back of my skull, his claws inches from my jugular, he could crush me with the flick of his wrist, but his fathomless eyes implore me to keep going.
Like I would deny him anything to win the sounds he’s making. Finally, I find the head, thick and bulbous.
Knot, I think. It must be. There’s no way I could fit my fist around it. I brush my thumb along the slit at the top, and the space inside him contracts.
“Shayle.” He pulses once in my hand, and with a strained groan, his cock emerges from his body.
He’s so beautiful I want to cry.
Like the rest of him, it’s smooth, the same aquamarine as his tail. The thick vein running along its length throbs under my fingers. I swirl my thumb around his crown, and a silvery cream beads along the slit, pearlescent in the glow of the cave.
My merman is rigid. The dapples on his skin flicker up the length of his body, from pectorals to tail, with new ones lighting up on his shoulders and cheeks. The flickers are rhythmic, like sound waves, and at first I think they’re flashing along with every beat of his heart. But then thea’weshexpands and heats against my pulse, and I realize it’s nothisheartbeat he’s flashing along with.
It’smine.
He’smine.
If I didn’t believe in magic before, I do now.
I slant my mouth over his, tasting myself on his tongue, the salt around us. I kiss the glowing speckles on his cheeks, his silver lips, the webbing between his fingers. Later, if he’ll let me, I’ll kiss the dorsal ridge that runs his spine and the fluke of his tail, but our bodies are pulsing in synch, and the message is clear.
I stroke down his shaft and meet his hooded gaze. “I want to take your knot.”
My voice sounds far more confident than I feel, but hell if I'm not trying.
The deep vibration that leaves his throat sends a ripple through the cave. “My Shayle, my knot is for my mate.” He thrusts his cock into my fist, pupils reflecting the now golden light. “And only her.”
He’s not warning me to stop.
He’s asking me to choose.
The light around us shifts from soft blue to a deep gold as I look into the black of his eyes. “And what does being your mate mean?”
“To be by each other’s side for the rest of our days. Our bodies, our homes, our lives belong to each other, until the deeps claim us.”
So that’s it. If I become his mate, I stay with my merman in the ocean and leave my life on land behind.
No more coffees in front of fireplaces. No walks in the rainforest. No libraries, or birdsong.
No more struggling to maintain shallow friendships, or turning down dates at shitty bars. No more fighting for research funding, so I could continuemy search.
What would I need funding for? All along, I was searching for him. And now I’ve found him.
