Page 7 of Lured By the Siren

His sweeping eyelashes flutter beneath the reflective device sitting on his face, and I can't help but notice how handsome he is. Not in the rugged way most sailors here are, but in a more refined and polished way.

All sharp angles and crisp lines.

His white long-sleeved shirt is plastered to his skin, smoothing over his defined chest and down his flat stomach, leaving very little to the imagination. He's wearing dark trousersand tall boots that look barely broken in. Shiny buttons run along the sides, reminding me of a pair I’ve seen one of the other sailors wear, I just can’t place which one.

As I examine the strange device on his face, I notice a crack on its surface that seems beyond repair. I carefully peel them from him, resisting the urge to caress his smooth jawline and delicately place them on the rock beside me.

While the men I’ve bedded before have all been attractive in their own ways, I feel a tug deep in my core for this man. A longing that I have never felt before. He stands out from the other men on the island, a striking contrast that draws me to admire his beauty. His features are more delicate, as if he was painted by an artist's gentle touch. Smooth skin glistens in the dying sunlight and is unmarred by the harshness of labor or scars of battle. He is flawless.

His long lashes brush the top of his cheeks, which I notice are starting to regain a healthy pink hue. The golden curls that cover his head look as soft as the fine sand that runs along the beach, and my fingers itch to rake through them. His expansive shoulders and slim hips have me dreaming of matching all of his sharp edges with my soft curves.

Reaching out, I sweep away the curl that keeps falling onto his face, letting my hand brush along the side of his head before placing another piece of the plant across his wound. I sit back on my scaled legs and wait for him to take a full breath.

My mind wanders to places it shouldn’t, as I imagine what it would be like to be pinned down by him as he makes me gasp out in pleasure. What would it be like to try one of those new positions Kat always goes on about, with him?

I close my eyes, falling into a dream of kissing him along his jaw and trailing my lips down his sculpted chest all the way to the curved edge of his hip bone.

A shudder of pleasure moves through me, and I think about all the moments that I’ve been taking for myself lately.

A woman has needs after all.

I think about how I’ve explored myself, allowing my fingers to expertly coax the waves of pleasure I seek. The moans I can’t hold back as I work my fingers inside my center, finding my release, but now I picture not mine, but his strong fingers in their place. And then my mind shifts to dreams of his thick, hard cock pressing slowly at my entrance, opening me and filling me fully.

I groan at the thought, letting my daydream go farther as I see myself seated atop him, rocking against his length, imagining its smooth feel coated with my desire. I bite my lip as I picture him thrusting into me until my orgasm crashes through me in glorious waves, his own release following quickly.

My eyes shoot open, the daydream vanishing instantly as the man makes a small sound.

“Pull it together, Evelyn. He’s just like every other man who’s come here. What are you getting so worked up for?” I chastise myself, but something about this feels different. I’ve never had such an instant connection to anyone who’s washed up on these shores.

I haven’t even seen his eyes or heard his voice.

Suddenly, he coughs, attempting to purge what seems like the entire contents of the sea out on the beach.

He releases a final cough, squinting in my direction so much that I can’t see the color of his eyes. “Where am I? Wh-what happened?”

“Shhh, it’s alright. You’re safe now. Lay back down, please. You’re hurt.” I pleaded with him, placing my hands on either side of his shoulders, lowering him to the ground.

His eyes fluttered closed again. His breathing is shallow and labored, which worries me, but he seems to have passed out again.

I fear my healing song is not enough to fully fix his ailments. He’s going to need rest and constant monitoring over the next few days.

I look up to the sky, the blue now replaced by the streaks of purple and orange as the sun makes its final descent. I curse to myself, I can’t carry him all the way back to the village myself. Of course, I can always leave him and get help. I’m sure Mathius, the strongest of the men back in the village, can carry him with no problem.

My gaze shifts back to the sea, where the tide is still going out. Looking back at the man, I watch his chest rise and fall with weak breaths. What if he wakes up while I’m gone? I can’t just abandon him, leaving him injured and alone in a place he doesn’t know.

I’ve spent many nights in this cove avoiding quality time with the rest of the sirens. This place is my home away from home. It’s comfortable enough for a sea dweller, and I’ve brought a few of my past lovers out here to enjoy ourselves away from the others. I never heard any complaints from them. Sure, we were a bit distracted and they didn’t have a head wound, some possible broken ribs, and a gash along their entire back, but still, I can make this work.

Slipping my hands under him, I grab underneath his arms and begin to drag him near my makeshift bed in the dry corner.

This cove is surrounded by rocks that reach up into a peak, creating a large room that is isolated from the elements. The stars twinkle and dance through small holes in the stone ceiling, providing a calming glow to the space, while the tide lures waves to the shore, composing a gentle sea song as they lap against the rocky shore.

This place has always felt like my own private island where I could steal away to think or just get away from it all.

Delicately, I place him on the bed and stare down at his handsome face. A flutter blooms in my chest, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. What is this feeling? I’ve never been so infatuated with a man just from a few brief glances.

I run my hand along his neck and check to make sure his pulse is still strong. His heart beats steadily under the tips of my fingers, and I find myself wanting to curl up next to this stranger and keep him safe. My priorities right now are to keep him breathing and warm him up further.

While my body is used to changing temperatures from water to land, his soaked clothes and fragile human body are not. If I don’t raise his temperature soon, he’ll freeze to death before he has a chance to fully recover.

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