Ocean of Love

by Susan D. Taylor

  “Now,” he whispered. “Right. Now.”

  He swiftly moved over her body, taking possession of her mouth again. She tasted herself on his lips. Erotic and sensuous. She closed her eyes, riding the effortless waves that spiked and eased within her body. Delicious. Tender. Dominating. He was the perfect lover.

  * * *

  Wyatt could not contain his desire further. His cock thrummed to a serious beat inside his head. A moment longer he’d burst at the seams. He was fully engorged, almost too painful to keep rubbing against Marissa’s body.

  “Oh baby, I’m so ready for this moment.” His voice strangled inside his throat.

  Marissa probed over his abdomen, up along his ribs to his chest then her hands floated back down again. Her hand glided over his stomach, lower over his twitching cock, and circled around his balls. She ran one finger along the underside of his cock, working knots into his self-control while she took him into her mouth again.

  A few more seconds and he’d burst apart in countless pieces. His balls tightened and he caught her wrist.

  “I cannot let you explore further for the moment. If we don’t make love, the way I need us to be, I’ll explode or go crazy. Or both.”

  The force of his words blew out between the grinding of his jaw. He couldn’t interpret her expression but kissed her, locking their mouths together briefly, and moved between her legs. His fingers brushed across her slit, hot and damp and his.

  He swallowed up her moan. Damn, never had making love to a woman been so extreme. Christ, the things he wanted to do to her and at the same time protect her. He wanted to brand her, mark her as private territory, and never let her go until he’d had his fill.

  Holding her face between his palms, he gazed into her beautiful, sea-green eyes. A woman like this who held mysteries and secrets would require a GPS to find himself back to civilization. He ran his fingers along her softness, opening her to him. Slowly, he moved his finger from the front of her pussy all the way to her sweet, maiden gap.

  She gasped as he swirled the tip of his finger ever so lightly around her clit. She burst into motion, flexing her hips, such a sensitized creature. He pressed his palm to her belly, holding her in place. Marissa’s legs trembled, her thighs shook on either side of his hips. He grabbed ahold of the head of his cock, and positioned himself at her entrance. She was tight and narrow, and he moved not a millimeter. There was no way around what was to come.

  “You’ll be all mine. Soon.” He kissed her deeply and pushed forward. Her mouth released from his lips. Her eyes opened wider.

  She cried out once, digging her nails into his shoulders, and clamped her legs around his body.

  “Shssh, this will only hurt once.” He pushed forward again, harder this time, easing into the space where his primal instinct swore he must go to claim her.

  “Wyatt,” she moaned and he covered her mouth with his. He pushed forward, stretching her opening, pushing forward again until he found himself seated within her body, not all the way, but connecting them both. If he could absolve her pain he would in a heartbeat. He caressed the side of her jaw with his thumb, giving her a moment to recover. She moved under him, rubbing her hands down his back.

  “Sweetness,” he whispered. He kissed her, a light brush against her lips. He drank in the vision of her.

  She opened her eyes and bit her lower lip. She entwined her hands into his hair, flexing her hips, squeezing his cock. She fluttered her lids, moaning his name.

  “Wyatt. You feel so good inside me.” A seductive curve adorned her lips.

  He arched his back, rising up, and pushed forward another inch inside her. The power to give them both what they wanted roared inside his body. He held back for a moment, his cock seated in her velvet channel until his control broke, and he let loose his desire to possess her totally. Her hips rocked against him. He moved over her body, thrusting all the way, his length fully embedded, and retreated only to return again. Her legs wrapped around his waist while she moved rhythmically with him.

  “Jesus, making love to you feels wonderful.” He released her hands and lifted her hips.

  She skimmed her fingernails over his skin, releasing a blanket of pleasure across his body. He began thrusting as far as he could go inside her pussy.

  Heat gave way to a furnace inside him. He plunged deeper into her softness. Her silken muscles wrapped around his cock, creating ripples fisting him, and he gave in to the most extraordinary feeling of being held by his woman. He moved over and over, plunging and thrusting amidst her whimpers and moans until his body begged for release.

  She cried out his name, her body tensing, and he thrust one more time. An explosion raced through his body, ending inside his head, and he dove over the cliff. Holding onto her, he swan dived into complete ecstasy, relishing her orgasm and then his. He wrapped her in his arms, their heartbeats racing, and he buried his head in her silky hair.

  He opened his eyes, their breathing jagged and loud in the room. “Unbelievable,” he whispered against her cheek. “Baby, I’m so taken with you.”

  “You’re magical.” A crease appearing between her brows. “What about you? Was it … good?”

  He kissed the side of her head, inhaling the sweet smell of her. “If you like using understatements. I hope the Earth and Heavens moved for you. They…” he kissed her lips possessively, “definitely shifted in my world.”

  Wyatt pressed his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes, for once completely conscious; it felt as if he could take an unobstructed breath. This was nirvana, being with Marissa. He nuzzled her neck, wanting to remain in her arms, and forget the world beyond.

  Chapter Eleven

  Marissa woke while it was still dark. Wyatt’s arm was thrown over her shoulder, his legs entwined within hers. His breathing was deep and slow, much like the breeze that entered and retreated from the bedroom.

  She released a sigh of supreme satisfaction watching him sleep. The image of what it meant to make love with him filled her. His hands and mouth and the male hardness of his body had taken possession of her last night. This morning, she tingled in bliss.

  Not wanting to leave him, she couldn’t stay either. In another hour, it would be too late for her to reconnect to the sea. The draw to dive into the sea was stronger in the afterglow of love-making, as though the ocean would sanctify their joining. She couldn’t imagine coming upon a chance to be so near the shore on a private beach. Lucky in love … she stopped, not wanting to tempt fate.

  Marissa eased to the side of the bed, focusing on the rhythm of Wyatt’s breathing while he slept. She stood but froze in mid step. He stirred, groaned, and settled back against the pillows. She tip-toed around the room, stopping to pick up articles of her clothing. Hesitating before opening the bedroom door, she tightly held the doorknob. Her throat constricted; today was their last day together. He was leaving tomorrow. She’d be back before he woke but only if she actually left the room instead of standing and staring at him. Once last glance back at Wyatt for several seconds, and then she silently left the room.

  Outside in the hallway near the landing, she dressed in her shirt and panties. She moved downstairs and stood on the terrace, facing the shore. She took a moment to gather her bearings by listening to the waves. No voices, no unusual sounds, only the ocean beckoning her back.

  The sand was cold and moist under her feet. She ran, increasing her speed, undoing the two buttons that kept her shirt together. At the shoreline, ocean spray covered her, making her skin itch and burn to be replenished by saltwater. She removed her blouse and took off her underwear.

  Her body had already begun transforming. Thousands of iridescent scales connected over the surface over her hips and buttocks, down her legs, and surrounding the tops of her ankles. And now, her thighs started to knit together little by little. A sign she must get into the water. Quickly.

  Marissa balled up her clothes and tossed them behind her. She’d not taken the time to get her beach bag. The chilly wind
whispered a greeting across her naked flesh. The space between her legs ached for a second, reminding Marissa of the man who waited for her. She stepped into the first wave. Brisk water rushed toward her, swirling around her ankles, and she stepped again. Her legs were nearly fused together down to her knees. The waves rushed toward her, bringing seawater to the top of her calves, and she hobbled, almost falling. The receding waves pulled her forward. She skipped a couple of tiny steps before diving into the water.

  A column of saltwater engulfed her head, shoulders, and down her back. By the time she kicked her legs, her feet were changed to one turquoise and aqua fin at the end of her tail. Beneath the waves, she swam without fear, riding the current away from the shore. The sea, her second home, had always provided an exhilarating freedom not found above water, imbuing her with a sense of serenity. But today, there was a shifting hollowness within her as she swam. A pair of bright blue eyes clouded her vision and a tremor overtook and convulsed within her chest. Fleeting images of Wyatt and the love-making they’d shared consumed her thoughts.

  She slowed, fluttering her tail and arms. How could she share this part of her life with him? The question confused her. She didn’t know what to think or feel. For a second, she lost her bearings.

  A powerful wave crashed into her, flipping her sideways. Her body was slammed down against the shallow sea floor. Something whooshed and skirted past her face. A blazing sensation spread from her upper chest. She curled into a ball as pain lanced from her shoulder, choking her. She fought against expending her oxygen supply.

  The stabbing pain grew stronger. Her upper back and chest hurt worse from a searing agony that expanded, gripping her from her shoulder downward into her bicep. She tried to move her left hand. Impossible, her arm was a dead weight floating limply near her body.

  She clutched at her chest, running her right hand upward and gasped, sending a flurry of bubbles into the water. A large piece of metal was lodged near her collar bone. She allowed the last few bubbles of air lodged deep within her lungs to buoy her to the surface. Normally, she didn’t need to return so soon for air, but she couldn’t concentrate, and her mind began to drift. She broke the surface, dazed and sucked in a shallow breath. She blinked, turning her face toward the shore, searching for the flickering lights. The breeze licked at the droplets on her skin, and she shivered uncontrollably.

  She hesitantly touched her stinging wound. Warm, slippery liquid squirted between her fingers. In the moonlight, her fingers were crimson, covered with her own blood.

  The shore was not far off, but remaining above the surface in the swelling waves consumed her energy. To swim a few feet took heroic effort. She had no choice but to keep struggling toward shore. Otherwise the rip-tide current would carry her farther out to sea. She swished her tail and held her position for a second, oscillating her tail back and forth to keep from being carried farther from the beach. She pulled strands of her hair free that were wrapped around her face and neck.

  The moonlight was fading or was it her vision? She tried to remain calm. She kept telling herself there was nothing to frighten her. This is where she had been born, where she’d spent her childhood, where she’d last seen her parents. She choked back a tiny sob.

  She adamantly refused to be undone. If anything, she’d learned over the past day her dreams could come true. She tightly held her desire to return to Wyatt and fed off the strength of her love born this night.

  When she raised her head, she released a sound she’d not issued in years. A high-pitched song bounced off the waves. Within seconds a flock of seagulls appeared above her head. The birds cawed to her, flapping vigorously into the brisk wind. A few brave gulls flittered above her head, trying to come closer to the surface of the water. Strange tears dripped from their dark red eyes. Never had she noticed birds cry in this fashion and she closed her own eyes. The cawing of the gulls increased, and one gull grabbed ahold of her hair, yanking hard enough to scold her.

  “Ouch,” she murmured, inhaling against the lethargy threatening to overtake her.

  Once more she called out, this time her pitch and voice cracked. Her diaphragm couldn’t hold the notes. If she’d been closer to shore, the sound of her high-pitched distress would easily shatter crystal.

  Within the water, the pitch moved as an echolocation, traveling across the shallow depths and beyond, bouncing off the shore in all directions. Again she called, ensuring her message radiated from her location. Marine animals equipped to discern sonar modalities were affected and reacted with squeals and clicks and pops audible in the distance. Rapidly these communications became a relay system from one to another as they searched for Marissa.

  Her head dipped under the waves as a dense fog overcame her senses. Her thoughts were heavier than her body. She sputtered, the pain increased, and she swallowed a mouthful of seawater.

  The water washed over her. Colder now. She was so tired and her lids kept shutting.

  Shimmering bodies surrounded her, sleek and majestic, yet not one touched her. They wouldn’t until she gave them permission.

  “Oh, so lovely,” she murmured, and then imagined a smile and arms so strong they promised to keep her safe. She reached out, the last bit of strength leaving her, and she issued a high pitched keen.

  She shook her head to keep sleep from overtaking her completely. A dolphin swam near her, and gently nudged her good arm. Another dolphin’s sleek, silvery body swam past, rippling the water around her.

  Right next to her, the dolphin remained and blew water from its blow hole. It was an alpha female and she returned a chattering cry, insistent and concerned. Marissa lowered her voice to a mere whisper of a pitch, until the dolphin bobbed at the water’s line, staring as if waiting. The dolphin faced her, rising out of the water; dark, intelligent eyes held Marissa’s gaze. She whispered her need in an ancient exchange of sounds.

  Marissa was hit by a wave that swallowed her voice. Overcome by a strange, creeping tiredness, she fought to stay alert. The fiery wound had grown less troublesome now that her arm had turned prickly and numb. She blinked, fighting a dreamless sleep. The dolphin prodded her hand, as though guiding her to take hold of the dorsal fin presented.

  The alpha’s angry clicks and squawks summoned other dolphins to form a ring around her body, and became a litter of conveyance across the waves. Marissa gazed up into a pastel array of pink, blue, and golden rays cast over the sky before she closed her eyes, reaching out to Wyatt, who stood waiting for her in the waves.

  Chapter Twelve

  Streaks of golden sunlight filtered into the bedroom. Wyatt inhaled deeply, enjoying his waking thought: a passionate night welcomed an equally sensual day ahead. He rubbed his eyes, blindly reaching across the bed and groaned. Coolness, crisp sheets, and no Marissa.

  A cry off in the distance tore into him. He bolted upright in bed. His heart thudded and he scrubbed a hand over his face, wondering if he’d been dreaming.

  He put all thoughts aside except for finding Marissa. He listened, yet only the flittering breeze swirling the drapery accompanied him within the bedroom. Impatiently, he threw back the sheets and swung off the bed. He stood at the open doors in front of the terrace. This was a jewel of a setting. If only Marissa were here to share this moment.

  She must be downstairs. Man, she had him to the point of no return last night. He laughed.

  More than likely his little vixen was hungry, he supposed, or thirsty. She’d need her strength. She’d need all her resources for the things he planned on sharing with her today, tomorrow. There was no end in sight.

  He was not a complete stranger to having women spend the night. But she was the first woman with whom he wanted to share his life. He wanted her with him. All the time. Without her, something was missing from him. There lay an essence in Marissa that calmed him. A pressing ache stirred within his body to find her.

  Marissa, he inhaled and continued toward the bathroom. Soon he’d join her for a bite to eat. Then, after they’d be
gin another round of love-making and he fully intended on exploring her whole body. No matter how long it took.

  Never had he imagined finding someone so incredibly perfect. Her lack of experience only made her more precious and sent a jarring jolt up his spine at the thought of another man putting his hands on her. With her there lay a need to possess and dominate. Not caveman-style exactly, but it was physical. He desired to make her all his in short order.

  Today he planned on remedying that aspect of their life, not just in bed but in other ways that ensured she was not far from him.

  The idea of having to share Marissa—be it her past, her future, and especially her present—didn’t sit well with him. Neither for the fleeting second he’d entertained the idea last night, nor this morning. The thought of sharing her was out of the question. He’d settle that matter in record time, already envisioning the engagement ring he’d have made for her. The question of what to do with the South Beach property was easy enough. No problem if he turned it over to his second-in-command. That decision made sense and his project manager had already said he wanted more responsibility. He snorted. The man had better be careful of what he wished.

  He was eager to discuss with Marissa which direction to take in life. Travel, perhaps she’d like that. Whatever she wanted, he would consider as long as they were together.

  He flipped on the bathroom light then turned back and shut the door. He’d never considered what a woman thought of him before. But he wasn’t exactly sure if returning to the bedroom and encountering him in full stream would be less than appealing for a young woman such as his Marissa.

  Jesus, he bet she’d be sore.

  His cock stood rock-hard from his body. Christ, he didn’t want to scare her, but he desired her more today than last night. He exhaled, remembering that he’d have to take this slow and easy. Everything with Marissa was fresh and new. A snap of excitement tore across his body.