Page 18 of Claimed By the Deep
His larger tentacles encircle my waist, lifting me effortlessly from the platform and into the water. The sensation of being completely surrounded by him is intoxicating—tentacles supporting me, positioning me exactly where he wants me, while his human hands frame my face.
"Perfect," he murmurs, and I realize he's arranged me perfectly at eye level, suspended weightlessly in his embrace.
Now I understand what he meant about overwhelming sensation. I float weightless while tentacles map every inch of my body simultaneously. One circles my breast with teasing lightness that makes me arch toward him. Another traces the inside of my thigh, coming close to where I need him most before retreating, building anticipation until I could scream.
The water transforms everything. Each movement creates currents that flow over my skin, doubling every sensation. When he pulls me closer, the water rushes around us like silk against my entire body.
"You taste like the ocean," he says against my throat, his mouth hot against my pulse. "I've dreamed of this taste for months."
His tongue traces patterns on my neck while smaller tentacles explore my ribs, my shoulders, the ticklish spot behind my knee. I'm being touched in a dozen places simultaneously, each contact perfectly calibrated to my responses.
When I arch back as his mouth finds my collarbone, a tentacle immediately supports me, holding me in that position while he continues exploring with lips and tongue. When I gasp as he finds a particularly sensitive spot, he returns there with focused attention that makes me tremble.
"I can feel your pleasure through the water," he says, voice vibrating against my skin. "I can taste your arousal. You respond to me more beautifully than I imagined."
A tentacle finally slides between my legs, and I cry out when it hits exactly the right spot. The pressure is perfect - firm and direct where I need it most. The water makes everything slick as he starts a rhythm that has me clutching his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I gasp his name.
"Yes," he growls, one hand gripping my hair while his tentacles keep exploring my body. "Let me hear you. Show me exactly how good this feels."
A second tentacle joins the first, and holy shit - the dual sensation is overwhelming. One applies steady pressure directly on my clit while the other teases my entrance before pushing inside.My body responds instantly, clenching around the intrusion as pleasure shoots through me.
Suspended in the water by his strength, I'm completely at his mercy. His tentacles hold me open, exposed, positioned exactly how he wants me. One wraps around my breast, the suction making me arch my back and moan louder than I meant to. Another slides along my ass, exploring territory that makes my breath catch.
He's touching me everywhere at once, each tentacle moving with deliberate purpose. Some hold me steady while others drive me crazy with sensation. I can't think, can't focus on anything but the building pressure. It's too much and not enough at the same time.
"More," I demand, my voice breaking as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. "Right there. Don't stop."
He complies immediately, increasing the pressure and speed as if he can read my mind. My body tightens, every muscle tensing as I get closer to the edge. His eyes watch me intently, his expression hungry as he takes in every reaction, every sound I make.
I'm utterly at his mercy, held above water by his strength alone, yet I've never felt safer. He holds me like something irreplaceable, touches me like he's memorizing every response.
"More," I beg, voice breaking on the word.
"Anything you desire."
The tentacles between my legs move with new purpose, while others find every sensitive spot on my body simultaneously. Onewraps around my breast, applying suction that pulls a sound from me I've never made before. Another traces my spine with precision that makes me arch further into his touch.
"So intense. So perfect," he murmurs with fascination. "So perfectly made for pleasure. You take everything I give and still want more."
His words combined with the relentless sensation finally push me over the edge. Pleasure crashes through me in waves, obliterating thought and leaving me gasping and trembling in his embrace. He doesn't stop, drawing out every aftershock until I'm limp in his arms and dripping down his strong tentacles.
"Magnificent," he whispers against my temple, cradling me against him. "You're more beautiful in pleasure than even my dreams showed me."
I float in the aftermath, held by tentacles that now feel like the most natural thing in the world, wondering how I ever thought my old life was enough.
Cyreus
NINE
Ihold her in my arms as she floats against me, her breathing gradually steadying. Rain pounds the surface above us, the October storm intensifying while the cove offers minimal shelter from its fury. The water temperature drops with each passing minute.
She fits perfectly against my chest, her skin absorbing the excess heat my alien physiology generates. For a brief, selfish moment, I savor this—a century of watching from shadows, and now this remarkable human has given herself completely to a being who shouldn't exist in her world.
My practical nature interrupts this indulgence. The Atlantic kills humans with methodical efficiency. My body temperature naturally runs several degrees hotter than hers, and I've been unconsciously creating a microclimate around us. Now, with the haze of desire clearing, I detect the danger.
"Meri," I say, brushing sodden hair from her face. "You need to get out of the water. Immediately."
She stirs, blinking as awareness returns. "I'm fine. You're like a furnace."
