Chapter 72
Suddenly, the space between us feels too wide. We meet in a flurry, our tongues battling for the upper hand. The kiss quickly deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The worries, the fears, the pressure—they all dissolve into the water, leaving only the two of us. His hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer, and I lose myself in the feel of him, the warmth of his mouth, the steady strength of his body pressed against mine.
The ocean presses in around us, and I wonder, not for the first time, if this is what heaven feels like.
I don't have an answer, but as he pulls back to kiss his way along my jaw, down my neck, over my collarbone, I think maybe it's a question I won't mind answering.
One of his hands slides down my side, tracing the curve of my hip. It comes to rest on the scales of my rear, and a small moan escapes my throat.
I'm surprised by how sensitive my scales are, in certain areas, even moreso than my skin. It's the constant press of water, the silky caress along every contour of my body, every sensation feels heightened with the extra layer of sensory perception—joy, fear...pleasure.
I'm already aching, desperate for him, and we've only just started.
He laughs, the sound vibrating through my skin. "I do enjoy the sounds you make."
My cheeks heat, and I tug at a lock of his seaweed dark hair. "Less talking."
"But then I can't tell you how beautiful you are."
"If you keep talking, I'm going to get embarrassed."
"I like that, too."
I bite his lip, and he gasps. "Phoebe."
"I miss the way you used to say my name," I murmur,
"Now that we share an anatomy, I will teach you to speak my given," he says, and the words might have been an accusation if not for the way his eyes go dark, his pupils blown wide. "I want to hear you scream it."
"I didn't have much to go on." I trail the tips of my fingers down the length of his back, stopping at his hips where supple skin morphed into dark scales -- which I now knew were quite stimulating. "Was my guess so far off?"
He growls low in his throat and pulls me tighter to his chest as he nuzzles my throat. "With the meaning, not terribly. But the pronunciation is more than your underdeveloped human throat could manage."
My eyes widen incredulously, "Underdeveloped?"
He looks smugly down out me and produces a series of rolling clicks that, admittedly, would have been impossible for a human to replicate. Now, though, I'm more than human and repeat the sounds back to him almost verbatim. His eyes narrow and hardness between us becomes more pronounced.
"Well done," he purrs.
I bite my lip to keep from grinding like a fool. "What does it mean?"
His tongue flicks out and he runs the tip over my lip, tasting my reticence, urging me to let go. "Turbulent Tides."
"That's your name?" I pant as his tongue moves from my lips to my jaw and downward.
"It is the most direct translation. In retrospect, Wake was a fine interpretation."
I pull away, shaking my head, a devious glint in my eye. "Oh, I don't think so. You challenged me, questioned my abilities."
Wake cocks a brow dangerously, "Did I? I do not recall."
I place my hands on his chiseled hips and draw them inward and downward, loving the harsh rasp of his scales against my soft palms as they travel lower toward the hidden slit confining his glorious cock.
"I'll show you to call my throat inferior."
His breath catches, but he has the self-control to keep his expression impassive as his cock emerges, standing tall and filling the space between us. I want to tear that composure to pieces, and I intend to start here, with this dick in my mouth.
"Phoebe, do not tease me," he says as I stroke him in my hand, exploring the length and thickness of him.
"No," I say, and my mouth waters.
He's beautiful. His cock, thick and rigid, in his element, the crimson glyphs trailing his hard shaft glow, pulsating like lava in tune with his heartbeat.
It's so much more alien than anything I could have imagined with a human man, and the glee of being able to experience this—experience him in all his natural glory—only makes me that much hotter. My mouth begins to water.
I simply wrap my lips around the head of him, sucking lightly. His hands fly to my hair, tightening in a painful grip as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He tastes so good, clean, musky, like the sea. His flavor fills my senses and I suck harder, wanting to taste him deeper, wanting him to challenge me.
"Sweet Phoebe," he gasps, his fingers twisting in my hair. "My mate is so very talented."
I swirl my tongue around his tip and his cock jerks in my mouth.
"And don't you forget it," I say, before taking him deeper.
His groan is low and husky as his hands move from my hair, sliding down my back to squeeze my rear.
"How could I ever?"
I can feel him swelling inside me and I have to stop myself from moaning, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. I slide off his cock and lick a slow, long line from the base to the tip, enjoying the way his breath shudders when I reach the top.
"I want you to fuck me, Wake. I want you to make me scream."
"What will you scream?"
"Your name," I pant. "My mate's name."
He snarls, and the next thing I know he's spinning me and pushing me up against a nearby pile of boulders and mossy stones. Tiny crustaceans skitter off as my back hits the rocky surface. I laugh, a sound that turns to a gasp of pleasure when he kisses me hard. His tongue pushing deep into my throat, tasting where he's been.
"Wait," I gasp for air as I pull away.
"Woman, what now?" He sounds exasperated, but sudden embarrassment holds my tongue. "Phoebe."
"I just realized I don't know where my vagina is."
Wake lets out a surprised snort that turns into an all-out gut buster, as he throws his head back and laughs.
I shove his shoulder, "Hey!"
He grabs my hand and guides my palm down the length of my new body. "I would not worry about that if I were you, mate. I will see it as my personal mission to ensure that you know every crease and crevice on this delicious body of yours."
He takes a peaked nipple into his mouth as he directs my own fingers to a spot between my hips, similar to the slit that conceals his cock. He applies the slightest pressure and, like his, the scales there split like a curtain, revealing the soft, warm sheaf within.
"Oh, God," I sigh, my voice high with pleasure at the intense sensation.
I was no stranger to caressing myself, but this was new flesh, new nerve endings, and every brush felt like the first.
"That's it, Phoebe," he purrs against my breast as he teases the other nipple. "Show me how you pleasure yourself. Explore your new womanhood for me."
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