Elias just laughs again. “Alright. If it makes you feel better, he had absolutely no idea.”
He’s lying, I know he’s lying, but I can’t stop the flush on my cheeks or the disbelieving giggle that creeps up my throat. “That’s terrible, you know. You could have said something. What must he have been thinking about having to deal with that?”
“I’m sure he was thinking how nice it would be to have a tasty little morsel of his own.” He leans in, bringing his lips to my throat.
“So that’s what I am?” I ask, breathless. “A snack?”
“You’re a whole damn meal, little siren.” Without warning, he reaches down and grabs me, lifting me up and tossing me over his shoulder. “And I’m famished.”
And that’s how I find myself carried off to my kraken’s lair, stripped bare and pulled into the water. He’s got me bent over the side of the pool in the shallow end, legs held open with two of his tentacles while he buries his face in me from behind.
Elias takes his time with me, savors me, teases and nips and builds my pleasure up and up again, only to pull back when it’s about to crest. He’s tormenting me in the sweetest, most delicious way possible, and I’m so mindless with it I almost don’t notice the new sensation.
One of his tentacles strokes over my ass, dipping in between my cheeks, and I can’t help but tense up a little. Elias, missing nothing, pauses.
“Too much, little siren?”
I swallow hard. “I’ve just never, uh, had anyone. There.”
“Should I stop?”
He withdraws his tentacle without waiting for me to answer, and I unconsciously buck my hips back, chasing the sensation.
“Not necessarily,” I squeak out.
Elias shifts up and over me, pressing his broad chest against my back, rubbing his cock against my ass, and letting out a gruff, rumbling chuckle.
“You don’t have to take this, my treasure,” he says, running the length of his shaft against me. “Or anything, if you don’t want. But I think you might enjoy it, if you’d like to try.”
“Yeah,” I say, breathlessly. “Okay. Yeah. We can try that.”
With another deep laugh, he teases that tentacle up my inner thigh and stops to dip briefly into my pussy before working it up to my ass. The slippery, soft feel of it against me, prodding and gently massaging, is unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. And when it dips just inside—stretching me, filling me, joined by another that plunges deep into my pussy—I cry out and slump down against the cool tile at the pool’s edge.
Elias keeps me supported as he works in and out of me, making it so my breasts don’t get crushed against the hard surface. He whispers to me the whole time about how lovely I look stretched around him, how beautifully I’m taking him, little bits of filth and praise and affection that make my toes curl and a slow, insistent heat spread from the center of my chest outwards.
When he pulls his tentacle from my pussy and replaces it with his cock, I swear I can see stars. Elias works me in tandem, plunging in and out, deeper and harder, and when one of his suckers draws sharply on my clit, I’m lost.
“Let me feel you, little siren,” he whispers. “Let me feel you come apart for me.”
All the sensation crests and breaks in an orgasm that rips a sob from my throat. Elias follows, thrusting deep and spilling into me with a hoarse shout of his own. He stays pressed into me for a few long minutes as both our breathing returns to normal, chest draped over my back, dragging hot kisses and whispering more praise over my shoulders and neck.
The beat of his hearts against me, the warmth and the weight of him, the feel of his cock still pulsing and filling me, the words he’s saying, all of it overwhelms me and washes over me in waves of bliss.
And after, when he eases out of me and tends to me, cleaning me up and lifting me from the water, wrapping me in a plush robe and carrying me to bed, there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.
28
Elias
Sitting in my office during a few blissfully unoccupied minutes before lunch, I stare at the stack of papers in front of me without really seeing them. My mind’s tied up in other concerns, playing and replaying conversations from the last few days, and bogged down with the unexpected complications that have cropped up with the news about the Paranormal Oversight Committee’s dealings up in Canada.
A few more human partners Morgan-Blair works with are concerned about our ability to keep doing business as normal. It’s not entirely unexpected, but disheartening all the same. There will always be fear when something upsets the status quo, and there will always be those who would rather see their own interests protected at the expense of others.
As always, my primary concern is for all the beings who make up Morgan-Blair Enterprises. Keeping our contracts, protecting our business, it’s all for the same reason Blair and I set up shop after we left the seas behind, and the principle that’s guided me even after he left the company.
Standing and crossing to stand in front of the windows, I peer out at a city that’s changed so much in the time I’ve been here, and can’t help but wonder what’s coming next. Not just for this company or this city, but for all of us paranormals as we strive for something better than we’ve had for so many millennia.
I also can’t help but wonder where in this rain-soaked city my mate is at the moment.