Page 30 of Kiss for My Kraken
“Fear,” he said honestly.
“And instead?”
“Acceptance.” The word felt inadequate for what he saw in her eyes, but it was a start.
“My turn.” She extended her hand and he placed one of his tentacles on her open palm. “Is this okay?” she asked, her fingers exploring the texture of his skin.
“Yes,” he managed, though his voice had roughened. Her touch was exquisite torture—innocent exploration that nonetheless awakened parts of him long dormant.
She continued her careful examination, tracing the subtle patterns on his skin, testing the strength of his tentacle with gentle pressure, then running a gentle finger across one of his suckers.
“You said they were sensitive. Good sensitive or bad sensitive?” A hint of mischief played at the corners of her mouth.
“Good,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower. “Very good.”
She smiled then, a slow, knowing curve of her lips that made his heart stutter. Deliberately, she ran her finger over the sucker again, watching his reaction.
He felt the color in his skin shift involuntarily, darkening with desire. Another tentacle moved of its own accord, wrapping gently around her waist. He should pull back, maintain control, but the sensation of her skin against his was overwhelming.
“Nina,” he began, not entirely sure what he meant to say.
She saved him from having to decide by yawning suddenly, covering her mouth with her free hand.
“Sorry,” she said, blinking rapidly. “It’s been a long day.”
The spell broken, he carefully withdrew his tentacles.
“You’re tired. I should take you back.”
“No, I’m fine,” she protested, but another yawn betrayed her.
“You need your rest,” he said firmly.
She looked as if she might argue further, but after a moment, she nodded reluctantly. “I suppose Ozzie needs his rest too,” she said, glancing at the dog who had curled up on the window bench.
She rose to her feet but instead of heading to the door, she stood looking around the cabin with an expression he couldn’t quite interpret.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s just…” She gestured vaguely. “This is so different from anything I’ve ever experienced. Part of me doesn’t want to leave, in case…”.
“In case what?”
“In case I wake up tomorrow and discover it was all a dream.”
He rose to join her, one tentacle reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear with infinite gentleness. “It will be here. I’ll be here,” he promised. “Whenever you want to return.”
She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. “Tomorrow?”
The eagerness in her voice made something tighten in his chest. “Tomorrow,” he agreed.
They gathered a reluctant Ozzie, and made their way back to the boat. He helped them aboard, then slid into the water next to the boat and gently guided it away from his island and towards the distant lights of her shack.
The night was still around them, the water a dark mirror reflecting the stars. She trailed her fingers in the river, occasionally brushing against his skin as he swam alongside the boat. Each fleeting touch sent a current through him more powerful than any electrical charge.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “And for showing me your home. Your treasures.”
“Thank you for coming,” he replied, equally quiet. “For seeing me.”
