Page 139 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“Good.” He chuckled.
“Now”— I flipped over, pulling myself shakily to my feet—“it’s time to brainstorm.”
“I’m sorry?”
I breathed in, absorbing the arousal still simmering in him. “On how I can breakyou.Unfortunately, we can’t reenact your dream. I don’t think all the lube in the world, magic or not, would make that anything less than excruciating. Y’know? Assuming…I mean…No, I’m just gonna leave that there. But I can do other things.”
Alistair trembled.
I grinned, even as his shudders nearly upset my footing.
“You donothave to,” he said. Firmly. “What you gave me is enough.”
“Iwantto, though.” I bent and stroked his head. “At least as much as I can. I enjoy giving pleasure. Most of the time. When it’s not one-sided…which it’s not, with you. And I don’t know realistically how much I can do for you, but would you let me try? Please?”
“Well”—his voice broke around a bubble of desire—“if you i-i-i-in..sist.Insist.”
That voice was going to be the death of me. Especially with it all hoarse and needy.
“I do. Insist,” I said.
“Then—” He broke off. Fear and excitement warred through him, murdering some of his impishness.
He wasshy.
Worried.
And I’d never known thatcould be a turn-on—to have a strong, self-assured malehesitate.But lustpoundedthrough me, responding to the bashfulness in his voice.
“I’ll need you to come back in the water.” Alistair lowered his head slowly. Almost dazedly.
“Okay.” I slid off the side of his nose once the surf rose to my knees and scrabbled for the rock again.
“You’re sure?” Alistair asked.
“Positive.”
With aschloooopp, he disappeared beneath the surface.
“I’ll roll over,” he said, “you can stand on my belly. It will be s-s-s-s-s…slippery. Be c-c-careful.”
His stammering worsened when he was flustered.
And I was finding Ireallyliked a flustered Alistair. It was adorable. Wholesome. And it made me feelprotective.Over the forty-foot sea beast. What a hoot.
Under the water, something solid bumped against the bottoms of my feet. I shifted, spread my legs more evenly, and bent my knees. Alistair rose, allowing his behemoth body to float to the surface, leaving me standing on the gentle curve of his belly.
His heaving, quivering belly.
The soaked scales were a bit like wet tile—treacherouslyslick. And with his stomach rising and falling in such heavy beats, standing was almost impossible. My feet immediately skated sideways, grappling for purchase.
Concern flooded him when he felt me flailing.
So I parked my butt down. Once I was seated and secure, I got a proper look at the green scales blanketing his stomach. “They’reglittery!”I rubbed my fingers over the shimmering flesh. “Oh, Alistair, this is gorgeous.” It was the way I’d always imagined a mermaid’s tail would look: iridescent and radiant, twinkling beneath even the fog-smothered light.
“It’s a d-d-d-d-defense mek-mekh-a…mechanism. The color,” Alistair stammered breathlessly.
“It is?”
