Page 76 of Female Fantasy
Understanding dawns.
I reach out and take both of his hands, now cold and pale, in my own.
“Ryke,” I tell him, my tone firm and unwavering. “I trust you.”
His eyes darken, a shiver working its way through his entire body.
“My minnow,” he says, shaking his head. “That might be the biggest mistake you have ever made.”
Then he leans forward and captures my lips with his own.
Light explodes behind my eyelids, so blinding that I worry the trident has caused another explosion. So vibrant that I fear I am already dead, floating in a watery grave, suspended before the heavens.
This kiss is different from the one he bestowed upon me while we danced.
There is no question, no trepidation in the way he presses against me.
Instead, his mouth devours me whole. His teeth nip at my lower lip, his tongue running along the seam. Once it enters my mouth, we are a mess, biting and tangling and fighting for the upper hand. It is as if my training for war has prepared me for this moment: trying and failing to challenge him, then succumbing entirely.
Yielding to him, my prince. Until I am wholly at his mercy.
“Merriah,” he groans, his words vibrating against my throat. “Are you certain?”
“More certain than I have ever been about anything.” My fingers are greedy, combing through the dark locks of his hair with abandon, pulling and scratching like a banshee.
“You are a desperate thing, are you not?” he chuckles. “This is not exactly how I imagined our first time, my dear.”
I gasp at the mental image of Ryke, sprawled out on his waterbed, touching himself to the idea of us joined in this way. “Have you imagined it before?”
“More times than I can count,” he says. “But in my fantasy, you were spread out in front of me like a feast, one we could both enjoy in a leisurely fashion.”
My entire body heats.
“I want that,” I tell him, biting my lip. “Badly. But there will be time for pleasure for pleasure’s sake once you are well.”
Without warning, Ryke rips off my brassiere, the pearls falling like teardrops to the sand-covered ground. Under the heat of his gaze, my nipples harden into two shell-like points. He reaches out and caresses them, then uses two fingers to capture each, pulling hard.
“Well, perhaps some pleasure now,” he says before leaning down and nipping at one mound in his mouth.
I cry out, clawing at the second skin on his chest until it is in shreds. As I allow my head to fall back and my eyes to close, I touch every inch of skin I can find. Ryke’s body is made up of hard ridges, smooth surfaces, and hard-earnedmuscles. He is built like a warrior, but he carries himself like a royal, the essence of composure. The mere thought of bringing that force to its knees is enough to make me rub my thighs together.
My hands drift lower, and I am surprised to find an absence of scales. In their place is an expanse of strained skin. Abs in the shape of a V point like an arrow toward his manhood. My eyes fly open in shock to find his tail gone, shifted into firm legs. And between his legs, an unspeakably large member has sprouted, seemingly from thin air.
Ryke laughs. “You did not think I would take you with my tail, did you?”
I feel my cheeks turn red.
He clicks his tongue at my bashful nature. “One day soon, minnow”—he lays a kiss in the space between my breasts—“I will teach you tail play. One day soon, I will show you the spots where my scales are most sensitive, the places between my fins that hold the key to barriers unknown to your realm. But today is not that day.”
Before I can process his words, his fingers leave my bosom, moving lower over the dip of my waist, the indentation of my navel. Until finally they reach the top of the fabric sheathing my legs like a tail. We lock eyes as one finger dips beneath the skirt, running through my folds.
When he finds the wetness pooled there, Ryke moans.
“Did I do this to you?” he whispers. “Or does your command of the water extend to the high seas between your thighs?”
The muscles in my core spasm at his words. “You,” I gasp as his torturous fingers circle my entrance, never quite giving me the relief I seek. “It is all for you, my prince.”
Ryke’s finger plunders me like a pirate, reaching the very back of my canal, rubbing against a spot in my body as soft as sea glass. I cry out as he works up a steady rhythm, adding another finger, then a third, wringing pleasure out of my body like a wet cloth.
