Page 118 of Cursed Waters

I opened my mouth to fire something back, anything—preferably witty—but his thumb nestled high, turning my breath ragged before I could think of a damned thing. His chuckle deepened as his thumb started rolling, swirling over that sensitive bit of flesh, and nothing else mattered.

How… how could something so foreign, so new to me, feel so right,sonatural?

My touch might have broken curses, but Leander’s touch ignited every inch of me, awakened every nerve. It was a magic that set me alight as effortlessly as if I were a barnacle under the sure weight of his palm.

“Then we’ll get you out of here, okay, beautiful?” His rough voice was in my ear, his lips finding my neck again, whispering more sweet words, drawing out more pleasure with each unhurried stroke. “Just relax—that’s my girl. Let me take care of you first.”

Oh, I had never been more relaxed, more boneless, than when this delicious pressure and those steady, disciplined circles were drawing over me while my pretty boy prince murmured little praises in my ear.

Something hard slid against my stomach, but as soon as I gasped, his heated whisper was in my ear, rough but soothing. “Shhh, beautiful, it’s all right. It’s just me.”

My eyes fluttered open, and when they focused down, I saw a snaking length of pale flesh jutting through the rich gold scales of Leander’s tail. I’d never even noticed the groove there before, but seeing it fully open, scales pulled tight, a thickly headed rod of flesh angling up out of it, made me wonder how he ever had room in his tail to conceal it. “Leander,” I gasped.

He chuckled deeply, flexing it against me like my reaction had satisfied him. Then the smooth head of his prick replaced the fingers at my slit, drawing across me, nosing into my folds before I could even catch my breath.

“There you go, beautiful.” The low hum of his voice was a darkly sweet melody in my ear. “Just like that.”

His hips started rolling, his length spreading my scales much further than his fingers had, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around him, to claw at his shoulders, to tangle my fingers in his hair. Anything to make sure he kept sinking in and out of me.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck,” was all I could manage, and he let out a strained bark of laughter against my neck. Itdidfeel good. Intensely good. It was freaking incredible how he’d primed that little fleshy bit inside of me to the perfect swell for his cock to draw against it with each smooth thrust of his hips. Belly to belly, he drove in deeper, his lips finding mine, his hands fixing on my hips as incredible heat built over every place we connected.

My tail felt livelier than ever. The rush was going to my head, making me extraordinarily dizzy, as if my lungs were working harder by the second just to draw in breath around the insistent press of his lips. And when he ground out in me, chest rumbling, tongue broadening strokes over mine, I broke out of our kiss with a silent shriek.

“Lee!” I gasped, wiggling every bit of myself I could to get his attention. “Lee,stop!”

He pulled right out of me with an excruciating grunt, his face straining, his chest heaving wildly. “Did I… Did I hurt you?”

The air was growing thinner by the second. I recognized the sensation, the strange pull of the trident’s magic. He had to hide before the cecaelia discovered he was here. “They’re coming back. You have to go.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, a rough palm running over his swollen, unsatiated dick. A furious growl ripped through him as he yanked his hand away to rake over the barnacles, extinguishing them with a hurried swipe. “Don’t worry, Claira. I’ll get you out of here. I’ll find a way.” One feverish kiss, and he was off me, disappearing into the darkness with apopthat left me all alone.

Magic settled over my vision, but by the time my surroundings came back into view, Leander had already hidden himself away.

Black mist pooled down the narrow corridor, and I swallowed hard, trying to stave off the tempestuous mixture of lust and fear churning inside me. I watched the dark mist spread lazily across the dungeon floor, a blight in search of its next victim, and set my chin high just as the first tentacle unfurled from the darkness.

The metallic tips of the trident emerged next, and I drew tight fists, straining against the seaweed secured around my wrists. This was it. My executioner had come.

Magic smoke billowed off the dark points in thin streams, and I ground my teeth, preparing for the worst.

It was frightening how soundlessly the wielder moved now that he wasn’t knocking his trident over the rocks as he went. Had he meant to slink in here without me knowing? Too bad the vile magic seeping from his trident had given him away.

The streams of magic reduced to a trickle as he approached my little nook of the dungeon, and by the time the mist cleared, a striking gaze was on me.

Even with my magic vision, I could tell the color of his eyes. White. The contrast was jarring, twin sunbursts in a world of ink and charcoal, bright enough that my eyes strained to focus back on them.

Dark eyebrows pulled close, furrowing a smooth alabaster forehead as he edged closer.

“You can see me,” he said carefully. It wasn’t a question.

I flinched against my fetters, not only because I’d let him figure me out so fast, but because his voice was as unexpectedly dark and smoky as the mist that seeped from the trident he held at his side. I kept my chin high, my body unmoving except for each labored heave of my chest.

Water swept long strands of jet-black hair away from his face as he brushed even closer, the movement drawing my eyes up the sharp angle of his high cheekbones, over his long, dark lashes, across his thoughtfully clenched forehead.

An exceptionally lithe torso dared to slip past the metal door, and a cloud of tentacles rolled in after, curling and spreading with all the unpredictability of an oncoming storm. Each tendril moved in seamless grace underneath him, twirling and bending, but those striking white eyes seemed to concentrate only on me.

He was a stranger to me, but there was something so significant about how he carried himself. There was an air of importance in him that had me wondering who or what he could be.

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