A Pirate's Dream

by Marie Hall

  Great-mother came out moments later with a startled, inquisitive look in her blue eyes. “What in the name of Calypso happened to Ariana? Why was she crying, Nimue. What did you do?”

  Crying? Do?

  More than just a little upset now, she jerked to her feet. “I didn’t do anything. I was just—I was—” Clamping down on her back teeth, ache in her skull suddenly intensifying, she shook her head. “I’m sorry great-mother, but I should go back to the palace. I don’t feel well.”

  Grandmother apologized, hugging her tightly and offering her a customary bowl of snails for Cook. Even though Nimue could tell that Maiven truly did feel sorry, there wasn’t much more to say.

  By the time she arrived at the palace, she had a full-blown migraine. They rarely plagued her, but when one did, it came on with a vengeance.

  “Nimue?” Sircco’s throaty voice was pinched with concern. “Are you all right?” Swimming to her side, he latched on to her elbow as she slowly made her way up what today seemed like an eternity of stairs.

  Each step she took made her grimace. The nerves in her body snapped and burned as though she’d been lit from within.

  “Nimue?” He sounded more than concerned now.

  “I’m fine, Sircco.” She wasn’t really. Her stomach was heaving, and if she didn’t find a restroom soon, she was going to humiliate herself. “Really. Fine.”

  Growling, he lifted her into his arms. The movement made her dizzy and nauseous. Swimming quickly for her room, he held her tight to his chest, and gradually, the nausea lessened, and though the pain pounded, the beat of his heart against her ear was a soothing melody.

  The door opened on his silent command, and before she knew it, he was transferring her to her bed, tucking the sheets up over her.

  She groaned as another electric prod zipped through her skull.

  “What is the matter, Nim? Should I fetch a surgeon?”

  Wincing, she gripped his hand. “It is my head. I’ve suffered these before. I’ll live.”

  “Pain? In your skull?” he asked slowly, and she was so grateful to him that he kept his voice down.

  But then he moved away from her, and she wanted to cry out to him and beg him to come back and not leave her alone in this enormous room. The bright lights of the afternoon sun streaming through her floor-to-ceiling windows turned suddenly dark, and she realized he’d been lowering the shades.

  Soon, he returned to her side. His comforting weight pressed down on the mattress, and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and force him to stay with her through the night.

  “As a fry, my sister suffered head pains. May I help you, Nimue?”

  Squinting an eye open, she muttered an incoherent assent, which he obviously understood, because he gently rolled her onto her belly.

  “Close your eyes, Nim. You’ll be okay. I vow it.”

  The first touch of his electric hands to her shoulders made her groan, but more than his hands, the water pressure upon her back increased and began to roll up and down in a soothing stream. His fingers dug in with just the right amount of force, twisting and kneading her flesh and making her moan from the decadent pleasure.

  “Oh my Gods,” she murmured. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t ever stop.”

  Chuckling, he asked softly, “How is your head pain?”

  Not nearly as painful. Mother had told her once of people on Earth called acupuncturists, who could help ease pain and stress just by pressing down on certain parts of the body. However, the process usually involved needles.

  But Sircco was hitting something, because the pain was definitely easing from an “I don’t care how I have to get rid of it even if that means cutting my own head off” to an “it hurts, but I’ll live” level.

  “Better,” she mumbled, fearing she might very well be in danger of passing out soon if he didn’t stop—not that she had any intentions of asking him to.

  After several long minutes where she was sure she’d begun to drool, he asked, “Nimue, can I slip my hands beneath your top. The effects of this are best when there is flesh-to-flesh contact.”

  Lip curling, delirious from his magic touch, she chuckled. She sounded drunken, and her words slurred as she said, “Naughty, naughty merman. So naughty. Very, very naughty.” She continued to mumble beneath her breath as she slipped deeper and deeper under his spell.

  She wished she could have appreciated more the touch of his hand upon her naked back. She was aware enough to feel their warmth and hear him hiss a breath.

  Sighing, she whispered, “I love you.”

  And then she remembered nothing else at all after that.

  *

  Sircco froze; surely she’d not said what he thought she’d said. He needed to leave now. She was asleep, her pain gone. He had no reason to stay, and yet... he did not wish to go.

  Lifting his hands, he feasted his eyes on her back. Only once had he seen her back, and only then, it’d been a fleeting glimpse. The day of the snake. He’d wanted to be honorable and to let her know that she could trust him, but his feelings had grown through the months, and this woman, this legger, more than intrigued him.

  She enraptured him.

  Wetting his lips, he decided that it would hurt nothing if he simply traced her spine with one finger. After all, he’d had both hands on her, and she’d not seemed to mind.

  But this time, his touch wasn’t meant to soothe. This time, this touch was for him alone. Moving his finger down the delicate bones of her spine, he swallowed hard. She was so soft. Her luminescent skin was unmarred, save for a swirl of birthmarks at the spot where her back met the curve of her backside.

  Pulse thundering, he trembled as he flattened his palm over the marks. His thumb just barely grazed the lush swell.

  “Gods, Nimue,” he breathed.

  There were so many words he wished to say, but then she stirred, smacking her lips. The sight of it was so cute, that he couldn’t help but grin.

  Closing his eyes, he called his body to obey. He did not want to swim away from her, but he would. She was asleep, and it seemed she desperately needed it.

  “Do you wish me to wake you for dinner, little pirate?” he whispered into her ear, his mouth so close that he grazed her sweet flesh.

  Her answer was a snore.

  Nodding, he backed away. “Good night, Nimue.”

  *

  Rolling over, feeling like a brand-new woman, Nimue sat up and stretched her arms high above her head. She had no idea how many hours she’d slept, but the room was bathed in darkness, and her stomach was growling furiously.

  She’d not eaten a thing all day, but at this point, surely all the staff was abed.

  Nibbling on the corner of her lip, she was wide-awake and restless. Whatever Sircco had done had not only taken away all the pain but had also given her a desperately needed night’s sleep. She couldn’t remember any of what she’d said or done during his massage. She could only hope she hadn’t embarrassed herself by snoring too loudly.

  As she walked over to her closet, Nimue took off the clothes she’d passed out in earlier, trading it for a silky soft pink robe and slippers. Then in the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, did her necessary, dampened a rag, then wiped down her face and arms.

  Feeling alert and ready to start her day, she decided to slip into Sircco’s library to see if maybe there was a book she could find to strike her fancy and possibly see if he had any treats stashed any in a hidey-hole someplace. If she didn’t at least get her hands on some crackers soon, she’d start gnawing on her fingers.

  Opening her door gently, aware that he was just on the other side and not wishing to disturb him, she tiptoed out then went down the stairs. It had to be no later than three, four in the morning, maximum. It was strange to walk the halls in such utter quiet.

  The palace was always a bustling place full of activity and merfolk. Wincing as the final step squeaked beneath her foot, she cringed and glanced over shoulder, half expecting a demon to come out and
attack her for daring to disturb its slumber.

  Nothing came of it, of course, but she made sure to stick close to the walls so that there’d be no more noises. Walking through the long and winding corridors toward the library, she smiled, finding that she almost preferred the palace at night.

  The marble veins in the floors glittered with millions of metallic flecks. The walls of coral and stone radiated a hazy blue glow, and when she narrowed her eyes to see if it came from hidden gems or glow stones, she found instead the furry little bodies of annelids. Surprised that after so many months, she’d not known them to be within the stones of the palace proper, she trailed her fingers along them, smiling as images flashed through her mind.

  She remembered climbing mountains with her father chasing after her, yelling that no one stole his booty. Memories of her mother brushing out her long hair and telling her tales of her life on Earth. Moments when Smee had rammed a hilt into her stomach, knocking the breath from out of her and reminding her to always keep on guard for treachery. Sinking into her roman bath at her father’s estate and blowing bubbles, pretending to be a fish.

  So many images, the little annelid dug out of her. She’d had a wonderful life. How sad that she’d not seen it for what it was. As much as she loved her time in Seren and loved knowing and learning all that there was in the under, it wouldn’t be so bad to return to those she loved.

  And maybe there would always be guards, but that wasn’t so bad, was it?

  But even as she tried to enthusiastically get on board with her imminent return, her heart ached, torn between what she loved above and what she desired under.

  Growling beneath her breath, she padded silently toward the library door then turned the knob slowly. The hinges squeaked.

  She’d mentioned it to Sircco many times, reminding him that he needed to get them greased, and always, he’d told her the same thing—he would get it done the next day. But after weeks of nagging, he’d still not done it.

  Blasted male. Her lip curled into a half grin. Mother was right—they were all the same. Lazy, sexy, insufferable men.

  Obviously, even king’s were no different.

  “Oh!” She came to a halt when she noticed him sitting in the recliner by the crystal fire, with a book on his lap.

  The colorful flames cast spectral lights upon his face, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the sight of him.

  His hair curled just slightly around his shoulders. The hermits in his crown were coiled in on themselves, little air bubbles rising into the water as they slept peacefully on. Liquid bronze eyes full of heavy clouds gazed back at her.

  Nimue bit her bottom lip.

  “Nimue.” His voice was a feathery caress to her senses, and her stomach toppled to her knees when he rose and extended his arm to the seat he’d just vacated. “You’re awake.”

  Wringing her hands, she nodded. “I... um, I grew restless in my room.”

  A small smile touched his lips. “I’d hoped to see you at dinner.”

  Her stomach chose that moment to growl—loudly. Like buzzing, angry hornets, the sound of it echoed between them.

  Sircco’s chin wobbled as if he fought not to laugh. “You are hungry, little pirate.”

  “I’m famished, and if I thought Cook wouldn’t smack my ass with a wooden spoon for daring to raid her kitchen, I’d have been there and not here.” Her grin was lopsided.

  Leading her to the seat, Sircco gently sat her down then lifted a finger.

  “Lucky for you, I expected you’d awake at some point this night.” Then turning, he headed toward a metal tray stand in the corner, and her mouth watered when he lifted up the coral dome, revealing a plate full of cheese, smoked fish, and sweet sea kelp.

  It’d always struck her as odd that in a land comprised of nothing but water, there could be the sensation of dryness or that flames and smoke could exist. But this was a land built on magic, and now she was only too happy to partake of it.

  “Oh, dear Neptune,” she moaned, making grabby hands for the plate. “I could kiss you.”

  After snatching it from his hands, she sat it on her lap, ready to dive in, uncaring how unladylike it would look if she crammed in a fistful of fish. Then she heard his soft whisper. “Then why don’t you.”

  The plate nearly fell off her lap to the royal-blue carpeted floor at the heated look reflected in his now-stormy eyes.

  Kneeling to the side of her, Sircco’s face so close to her own that all she would have to do was lean in and claim his full kissable lips.

  “What?” she mumbled, feeling as though her ears were suddenly ringing. The hunger growing inside of her now had nothing at all to do with food.

  His warm fingers brushed against her thighs, making her skin react in a most unusual way. Switch from hot to cold to molten when his thumb found its way inside the slitted ends of her robe and pressed bare flesh to bare flesh. She gripped the conch shell armrest, terrified to even blink, afraid this could all just be a dream.

  Setting the plate aside, without once taking his eyes off her, he scooted in even closer, pressing his broad chest so tightly to the chair that not a drop of water could pass between. And when his palm cupped her cheek, she made a sound that was half kittenish, half wanton.

  Her insides were burning up, her thighs tingling. She wanted him to touch her in places she’d never been touched by a male before.

  Nimue had often experimented with her body, discovering for herself what felt good and what felt amazing. But she’d never ripped these sorts of sensations out of herself with her own hand.

  Sircco was barely touching her, and she was on fire. Blood rushed to her cheeks as his thumb pressed firmly against her lower lip.

  “I missed you, Nimue.”

  His throaty voice combined with the lightning in his eyes was making her feel as if she might soon combust. She couldn’t seem to form any words, and she sensed that if she didn’t do something soon, this gorgeous male would back up, drop his hand, and slink away to his corner of the room.

  But could she be okay with this? With sharing her body, knowing she could never have more? Never have his heart?

  Brain and heart went to war. In the end, the heart won. She’d denied herself long enough. Maybe just a taste of him would be enough to quench this thirst.

  Leaning forward, she pressed a feather-light kiss to his mouth.

  It should have been nothing, just a bit of skin touching skin, but she jumped at the spark that passed from him to her and at the way her nerves suddenly flickered to life, as every inch of her flesh became aware of every inch of his.

  The way his breaths caused his chest to brush against her sensitive nipples. How the tips of his hair tickled her forehead. How when he exhaled, she inhaled, breathing him in. His scent of sweet, fresh air.

  Releasing a hungry, animal-like groan, Sircco took the lead. And she wanted to cry when both his hands framed her face, when his lips become hungrier and greedier. Nipping and nibbling along her bottom one, tongue probing against her seam.

  She’d barely begun to part them when he slipped inside and the brush of his tongue to hers was lightning in a bottle. Desperate and reckless, she cradled the back of his skull in her hands, twining his thick hair through her fingers.

  He made love to her mouth, tasting and exploring every inch of it, as she did to his. The kiss could have lasted ten seconds or an eternity.

  It wouldn’t have mattered.

  She didn’t need air, because he tasted of it, full, sweet, and glorious. Her head swam, and her body writhed. She didn’t know what exactly she wanted to do—wrap her leg around his tail or make him undo the belt of her robe so that she could press her naked breasts to his chest.

  But she did neither. She feared what he’d think if she touched him with her leg, and she wasn’t sure she was able to give her body and soul to a man who’d never be able to give his in return.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away, whimpering from the almost pain of feeling her body s
o alive with no outlet for release.

  Chest heaving, he’d still not released her. Instead, he’d pressed his forehead to hers and gulped in water like a man half suffocated.

  “Nim,” he groaned after a minute, thumbs pressing gently along the bones of her jaw.

  Clenching her jaw, she nodded. Her feelings in the moment were much too profound to put into simple words. Turning her face, she kissed the center of each of his palms and forced herself to pull out of his grasp.

  “How was that for a thank you?” She laughed, but her heart was trapped in her throat, and if he looked too closely, he would have seen her eyes shimmering.

  How was it possible to feel such heartache and elation all at the same time?

  Laying a fist against her chest, she willed her galloping heart to calm itself, hoping he had no idea how desperate she felt. The kiss hadn’t quenched her thirst at all, but made her so hungry for more that she’d have sold her soul to the devil himself if only Sircco could be hers.

  But leggers and fish did not fall in love.

  Regardless of what Talia had done, she’d been one in a million. To expect not just any merman, but the Sea King himself to choose her as consort was the height of folly.

  She might not like Stygia, but the mermaid was right about one thing: Nimue could only scratch an itch for him. She was a mere curiosity. She was Talia’s daughter, and maybe that’s where his curiosity stemmed from. Maybe he was curious because he’d lost her, and now perhaps he could indulge in Nim for a time.

  But Nimue had too much self-respect to be a sidepiece. She wanted it all, and anything less was not acceptable. She was a greedy pirate that way.

  His tongue lingered upon his lips, as if tasting her on him, and she almost forgot her brave words because her center still ached, still needed release. If Sircco hadn’t meant to her what he did, she might have given into temptation, but she’d given him her heart. If she slept with him now and he rejected her later, she’d lose her soul.

  Reaching over for the tray he’d placed by his fin, he lifted it up, before gently setting it back down on her lap. His movements had been stiff and methodical.