by Judi Fennell
Oh, he would.
He slid another finger inside, his thumb keeping pace against her swollen, tense flesh.
He traced a wet trail to her other breast, licking the tip as if it were the sweetest fruit. And, really, wasn’t it? Sweet and luscious, there for the taking. His by the grace and generosity of Valerie.
She pressed his hand to her, moving against him, her breath heaving her breasts in short, quick movements, his tongue stroking her nipple in an ever-increasing tempo.
The bed jostled beneath them, her moans deep and primal. Then her knees fell wide, her hand slipping away to brace herself against the bed, and her body went rigid, his name a strangled cry from her lips, and Rod felt her gush of pleasure as she pulsed around his fingers in rhythm with his heart.
How could he have even thought about not experiencing this with her? Nothing was worth missing this, missing her. Immortality, the throne, Atlantis… If he lived forever without her, it’d be a long and hollow existence.
“Rod,” she sighed softly when the world settled around them and Rod found his own pleasure in that.
He released her breast, placing a soft kiss over her heart, and laid her back against the bed. He lowered himself beside her, sliding his hands over her trembling tummy and rapidly beating heart, to curve around her neck, her pulse thumping strongly in time with his own.
He turned her to face him, smiling at the sleepy, sated look there.
Her eyelids fluttered open. “That was…” She smiled and licked her lips. Rod’s cock jerked against her thigh. “…unbelievable.”
“With everything else you’ve come to believe, it can’t be, Valerie. Incredible, yes, but not unbelievable.” He kissed her gently, needing to taste her.
She moaned against his mouth, into his mouth, thrusting her tongue inside, and wrapped an arm around him, crushing her breasts against him, nestling her moist curls against his leg.
“I… have… condoms. In my duffel,” she whispered between the kisses, and Rod felt the heat flare between them again. “Make love to me, Rod.”
Tearing through her bag, he found the package, then sheathed himself. He slid atop her, nudging her shorts off the bed after she’d freed herself, sighing when she wrapped those glorious legs around him.
Holding her face between his hands, his thumbs tracing her cheekbones, Rod slid inside her slick, tight heat, claiming her with his eyes and his body for eternity.
Immortal or not, they were joined forever.
It was utterly, perfectly right to have him inside her. To be here, like this, with him—mermen and tails and albatrosses be damned. Somehow they’d work it all out. They had to.
Because this was where she belonged.
As Rod started to move within her, Val realized that, at last, the restlessness in her soul had quieted. She’d found home. From the moment she’d met him, there’d been no sense of urgency, no “what’s around the next corner,” nothing. With Rod, this was where she was supposed to be and the only urgency was wanting him to move faster within her, to take her to greater heights, to share the moment and all the possibilities.
He trailed kisses across her face, stopping every so often to linger at her lips, and Val let herself be guided by his passion. Every touch, every kiss spoke to her.
His breath came heavy in her ear as he pumped between her legs, and Val reached around to hold on for every moment. Stroke after stroke of his hard, strong body gave new meaning to the word pleasure, new meaning to the word together. It was building again, the torrent of power and sensation only he could invoke in her, and she grasped the hard, sculpted muscles of his backside, urging him into her. Urging him to claim her, to make her as indispensable to him as he’d suddenly become to her.
When he called out her name, his release shuddering her into another world-tilting orgasm, Val knew that nothing had ever been as right with her world as it was in that moment.
And she was going to do whatever necessary to keep it that way.
Chapter 35
A vehicle door slammed beside Reel’s home just as the sun met the horizon. Even though Drake doubted anyone could see him in the twilight, he ducked beneath the dock, keeping his head low and his tail even lower. He didn’t need any Humans getting curious about the big fish so close to shore.
Idiots. The few times he’d run into them on the open waters and they’d seen his tail, they’d thought they’d found the catch of a lifetime. He’d shaken his head at the fishhooks dropping into the water around him, amazed that fish were so gullible. What the stupid Bipeds thought to tempt him with were leavings of other fish so disgusting they made his mother’s scallops look like the nectar of the gods.
No, the last thing he wanted to worry about was Humans. He’d bide his time in Reel’s private hideaway until his tail dried out to legs.
With JR out of the picture, he’d had to take the drastic measure of showing up here in person. But it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to give up when he was this close to his goal.
No one suspected him; no one even considered him. His father had written him off under Ceto’s surveillance, expecting her to keep tabs on him. Just before he’d left, he’d gotten a lovely message from Ceto, backing out on him.
Well, screw her. See if he kept his end of the bargain when he took over. She deserved whatever she had coming to her.
And screw JR. Setting him up like some patsy.
JR had agreed to help him because of the gods? What in Hades did that mean? Were they allowing him to win? Did they want him to? Had the Tritones finally worn out their Olympian welcome?
He hoped so. He was tired of hearing about them. His sisters still couldn’t say Rod’s name without sighing, and the guy had tossed aside their interest like days-old chum.
Not that he could blame him, but still. It was the principle of the matter.
The vehicle started back up, a nasty rumbling that he was sure emitted noxious black smoke into the environment the way Humans were prone to do.
Drake submerged himself and headed for the secret bunker, hating that he had to hide from Humans again. When he claimed the throne and Immortality, he would have a long freakin’ time to show those Humans they were second-rate planetary citizens. Third-rate, even. Nothing else on the planet did as much damage to it as they did.
That had to be why the gods were letting him win. The Tritones had done squat about punishing the Bipeds for the disasters they’d meted out on each other and the planet. Stupid, stupid creatures. They were intent on destroying the only place they could live.
Well, oceans covered far more of the planet than land. It was time for the Oceanic Community to swim up and be counted.
He was the one who would lead the way.
Rod’s days were numbered… now down to O-N-E.
Chapter 36
Rod was having that dream again. Warm, soft woman next to him, the faint hint of sand and salt wending in and out of the gardenia scent clinging to her skin, the slightest brush of silken hair against his chest, a tiny sigh on the breeze…
And then she moved against him and Rod knew, again, it was no dream.
He’d made love to Valerie, and all the sirens’ songs didn’t do it justice. He’d felt as if a missing piece of himself, one he hadn’t even known was missing, had slid into place.
He wrapped his arms around her, fitting her more tightly against him. She murmured something soft and feminine in her sleep, and Rod knew he needed that sound in his life for the rest of his years, however many he had left.
He finally understood what his brother had tried to explain.
Rod nuzzled the hollow beneath her hair, inhaling the luxurious scent of her skin and the tastes of the night. They’d awoken in the darkness and she hadn’t pulled back from her desire, demanding things of him that had thrilled him, taking her pleasure and, in doing so, giving him so much more.
He’d fallen, sated, to the mattress beside her at some point, incapable of movement. Even breathing had been an effort, she’d so worn him out. Herself, too, falling asleep before he’d left the warm haven of her body.
He nipped the delicate cord in her neck when she murmured and moved, tilting her head ever so slightly. Her pulse fluttered there, a breast filling his palm as she drew in a breath.
“Good morning,” he whispered against her ear.
She smiled, her eyes still closed. “Is it?” She captured his hands to her breasts, linking her fingers with his.
“I think it’s a pretty good day to wake up to.”
“Ah, but it could be so much better.” She twisted suddenly, and Rod found himself flat on his back with Valerie over him.
He liked this already. “Oh, really? How so?”
Her grin was slow and sexy… just like she was as she crawled backwards down his body until she was between his legs, nudging them apart with her knees.
“I’ll show you.” She sank onto the mattress, her eyes never leaving his until his cock rose, turgid and long, between them.
She licked her lips.
Rod thought he’d come right then.
He closed his eyes and gave himself over to Valerie’s care.
He was so big. She’d known that last night when she’d felt him inside her, but she hadn’t realized until this very minute just how big and thick he was.
Her resolve wavered. She’d never actually done this before. Oh, other guys had hinted—okay, more than hinted, but it was too intimate an act for her to consider it.
But in accepting Rod, who he was, how he made her feel, she could do this. For him, yes.
Because Rod, with all his unbelievable tales and noble sacrifice, had done something no man had ever done before…
He’d made her feel wanted. Made her believe that she was.
She ran her tongue up the long length of him, circling the thick head, then taking him into her mouth.
He groaned and she slid her lips down a bit more.
He groaned again, this time whispering her name.
She smiled around him, liking that he was in her power, hers to command.
She took more of him into her mouth, working his velvety skin with her tongue. His legs trembled beside her and his breath came out in a harsh whoosh.
She settled her crossed arms more fully beneath her, raising herself higher, and angled her head to be able to take his full length in.
Rod gripped her head, threading his fingers through her hair with heart-rending urgency. “Dear gods, Valerie…” His head thrashed from side to side as he arched into her.
She released most of him then, only to take him back in as he sucked in a breath. He surged into her mouth, words in a strange language falling from his lips.
He’d whispered them in her ear last night, hot breath and huskiness combining with the foreign sounds to take her out of herself. Out of the moment and into a plane where only feelings existed. He’d transported her not just with his body, not just with his words, but with his heart, and Valerie, who’d always wondered whether she was worthy of love, no longer had any question.
She stroked his balls, loving the feel of them jerking in her hand as she sucked him. Loving the short pants he emitted with her name, over and over, intermingling with whatever else it was he was saying in his native tongue.
Her tongue spoke its own language. Up and over, around and around, she stroked him, working him hard then gentle, long, slow strokes from the base to the tip, frantic swirls around the head, dipping into that moist opening, tasting his arousal. The long vein pulsed in time with her heartbeat, and she created more suction around him, working the base with her fingertips, loving that she could give this to him, give back what he’d done for her.
Rod’s heels hit the bed beside her, his hips jerking off the bed in time with her suction, and she slid her hands beneath his butt, her breaths coming heavy as his response turned her on. She hadn’t known what this would do to her, hadn’t realized that his pleasure would incite her own. That she’d connect with him on such a level as the one bringing him pleasure.
She could feel herself swelling and growing wet, pressing against the bed, searching for her own release. But not until he found his.
He groaned when she took him deep, went rigid when she scored his length lightly with her teeth, tracing his vein with her tongue. His muscles clenched in her hands, and she squeezed them, urging him deeper into her throat.
His cock jerked against her tongue and his hands flew to the bed, gripping the sheets, pulling on them until they popped free of the mattress. Her name emerged on one long, soulful moan as he speared himself into her, his legs shaking.
“Get… on… me…” The guttural words were half-command, half-plea.
She didn’t want to; she wanted to do this for him. She licked her way to the tip of him to tell him so, but Rod moved faster than anyone should be able to in his state, pulling on a condom in record time and impaling her on top of him.
You gotta love a man of action. One who knew what he wanted and went after it.
And she did. Oh, how she did.
His fingers gripped her hips, his teeth bared as he pummeled her, harsh, jerky movements that lacked any finesse.
Not that she needed finesse, she realized in a split-second of lucidity. He hit that spot every single time, as if he knew her more intimately than she did. She could only reach back for his legs and ride the wave of intensity.
More strange words came from him as he jerked her up and down, the wave building. He changed the angle ever so slightly and Val forgot how to breathe. She couldn’t. She was right there…
Rod slid a thumb over her, never breaking the rhythm of his hips, and stroked her. Hard, relentless and, all of a sudden… she shattered.
Stars exploded behind her eyelids while her body jerked against his. He was there with her, shuddering, pounding, exploding inside her, raising her up as his hips soared off the bed, his thighs bulging against her backside as he emptied himself inside her and she knew…
She’d never be alone again.
Chapter 37
“Rest, Valerie.” Her soft, sated smile filled Rod’s soul in a way he’d never imagined.
He would kill to protect this woman.
And he might yet have to.
Livingston should be here soon, bringing news of the coup, he hoped, and releasing the shore birds from their exile along this stretch of beach.
Rod slid from the bed, hoping, as well, for some word from his father. An explanation perhaps—not that it’d change his mind.
Because if he had to choose between Valerie and the throne, there was no choice to be made. Loving her was a state of being now, and the loss of the throne a mere change in his career path. He’d feel that way even if he had his tail.
Rod shook his head. Interesting how “failure” could have entirely different meanings depending on one’s perspective.
Valerie sighed, shifting beneath the sheet he’d pulled over her in the early hours, one long slim leg slipping from beneath it. He’d discovered the polish on her toes before darkness had fallen, something he hadn’t known about Humans.
From his perspective, life was fine, and this was far from failure.
Rod closed the bedroom door behind him and walked into the kitchen, banging the pantry door with his elbow. He’d have to learn to make Human food now, but as Livingston had said, most of their food tasted good, even if those fish sandwiches left a lot to be desired.
He opened a can of pineapple, a treat rarely found in Atlantis. He could eat pineapple every day for the rest of his life now. See? Not a failure at all.
Something thumped against the front door. Rod emptied the pineapple pieces into a bowl then headed for the door. Opening it, he found a newspaper on the mat. Newspaper
s were so much easier to read and transport than the slate tablets that defined his world—in every sense.
He picked up the paper and, beneath it, found a box wrapped in brown paper addressed to Valerie, postmarked from Kansas.
Ah, the reason she’d given Tricia Reel’s address. He vaguely recalled the sound of a vehicle last night, though at the time he’d thought the rumble was the effect of a particularly clever move Valerie had made…
Rod set the package on the dining table before heading for the deck with his breakfast, hoping whatever it was wouldn’t prove bittersweet. She hadn’t ventured the information in the car and, with the pall the conversation had settled over her, he hadn’t asked.
But, no matter what the package contained, they’d handle it.
Together.
Grabbing the bowl of fruit, Rod slid the slider and screen open slowly. Reel needed to fix that screech. He crossed the beach to the pier behind the house and scanned the ocean beyond the entrance to the inlet for telltale dolphin fins breaching the green-blue waters. While the interlude with Valerie was both life-altering and where he wanted to be, the coup was a very real danger and not over yet.
If anything, he was more vulnerable than ever, should he enter the water.
He chewed a section of pineapple, grimacing at the metallic taste to it. Fresh was better. Could they get fresh pineapple in Kansas? He’d have to ask her.
He scanned the sky. Still no birds. What was keeping Livingston?
He would signal the Council Guards if he could find any. While the bottle-nosed dolphins were experts at stealth, able to hold their breath for a long time while practicing surreptitious breathing maneuvers and rotating formations to keep their numbers concealed, he wouldn’t mind a little break in their discipline so he could be assured they were out there as Livingston had said they’d be.
Rod set the bowl down then put his hands on his hips, still searching for the dolphins. They should be here.
If he had his tail, he could find out. Shit. He was going to have to wait for Livingston to show up.