Page 44 of Last Shot at Love

Azurea reluctantly pulled away. “Then there is one more thing you should know. A CEO in Boston has been spreading the word that Beryl is his, and he intends to marry her. He’s been warning the other land-dwellers in their business circles to keep their hands to themselves when it comes to her.”

My anger flared, and my blood boiled.

She is ours, my beast snarled, releasing a cloud of ink.

The sea grew dark as ink swirled around us, blocking out the light from the sun. Ink wasn’t just a tool to help an octopus escape a predator… no, it was also an effective tool we used to hide our presence as we stalked our prey.

“Calm down, Rule,” Az warned. “Beryl is here with you, not him. I’m only warning you because if I could find you two, people might find her as well.”

I swallowed back my fury long enough to smile at Azurea. “Thank you, little sister. I hope you will visit us in Boston.”

“Of course I will! But only after you guys get through the honeymoon sex for breakfast-lunch-and-dinner stage.” Azurea fake gagged. “Now get back to your mate before someone else swoops in—”

I was jetting through the water before she could finish her sentence.

As I broke the water’s surface near the pool’s edge, a male voice drifted from our room. I bit back a growl and lifted myself from the water and onto the stone patio.

Not bothering to dry or shift, I moved silently toward the open doors. As my eyes took in the scene in front of me, I stumbled to a stop.

Beryl was sitting at the desk, focused intently on the laptop. That wasn’t exactly surprising, since my beautiful little mate was a self-proclaimed workaholic.

The part that had my jaw dropping was her wardrobe choice—or lack thereof.

A low-cut, hot pink shirt peaked from beneath her perfectly tailored suit jacket. From the waist up, she was every bit the edgy businesswoman.

But from the waist down, she was wearing nothing but the tiniest thong I’d ever seen. She looked sinfully sexy, but I still couldn’t understand why women insisted on wearing those things.

I couldn’t imagine it would feel comfortable having my butt flossed with every step I took all day long. Besides, Beryl would be mouth-wateringly gorgeous in granny panties from the 1800s, so she didn’t need to be uncomfortable on my account.

Heck, last night she’d worn a t-shirt to bed, and I’d never seen her look better. Better yet, it had ridden up over her hips during the night, giving me a fantastic view of her curves. The only thing that would’ve made it better was if she’d been wearing my shirt.

I wasn’t proud of the territorial instincts growing inside me. But hopefully, once we completed the bond, my beast would settle. With each hour I spent in Beryl’s company, it was becoming harder to separate my emotions from my shifter instincts.

My suckers ached with the desire to cover her in hickeys, and I longed to cover her in my scent. The desire to pin her beneath me had my body granite-hard.

I wanted to mount her as the man… and then mate her as the beast.

I wanted to slip my ring on her finger even as I thrust my mating tentacle deep inside her beautiful body… marking her as my wife and mate.

More than anything, I wanted her to claim me as hers. I wanted to belong.

It was why I’d agreed to her terms. I was more than willing to be her pet.

After spending decades alone, with women throwing themselves at me for what I could do for their status, I was tired.

I longed to be desired for what my heart could offer… and for how willing I was to worship my mate’s body.

Beryl was unimpressed by status and wealth. I’d already figured out she wasn’t materialistic. She enjoyed the challenge of her work and was driven by the need to always improve herself.

Since she couldn’t care less about my status, it gave me a chance to win her love… without worrying if she was just pretending until I put a ring on it.

But now I was struggling to hold back the tide of joy, desire, and love I’d been storing up for decades to pour on my future wife.

Beryl wasn’t ready for that, and I didn’t want to scare her. Nor did I want her to think I was only interested in my ‘biological needs,’ as she liked to refer to it.

“I can’t believe this will be settled in just two weeks’ time,” the unfamiliar male voice said from the laptop.

Some of the tension eased from my body. There wasn’t a strange man in our room… our nest.

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