Atlantis: The King's Return (The Atlanteans Book 1)

by D. K. Combs

  She held up her hand. “Okay! That’s enough—“

  “With oily as hell hair, soulless black eyes—“

  “Seriously, Ambrose—“

  “And a sunken in stomach—“

  Mari laughed, tackling him and shoving a hand over his mouth.

  “You’re going to give me nightmares,” she said, wrapping her arm around his neck.

  Ambrose grinned, then tickled her sides. Her squeal rang in his ear, making him laugh with her.

  “I’ll pee everywhere,” she warned through her laughter, fighting off his hands.

  “Atlanteans can’t pee,” Ambrose said in a sing-song voice.

  “Well this one will!”

  “Have fun trying—“

  “Ambrose, stop it! I’m not a good tickler!”

  He shook his head, pushing her into the wall and wrapping his arms around her waist. His hips pressed against hers, and her laughter died off.

  Gods, she was so beautiful. The light in her eyes cast a pink glow over her face, giving her the appearance of youth and innocence, something he was unaccustomed to. Atlanteans were hard, fighters. They had never had the softness that Mari herself did.

  Her curves were perfect, soft, willing in his hands. He settled his hands on her waist, moving in close. Her eyes darkened from silver to onyx, giving him enough incentive to do what he did next.

  He lifted his hand out, touching the wall and willing akrina to remove the glamour on the wall. Mari gasped when he picked her up by her waist, swinging her into his arms, and them moving through the wall.

  Seconds later, they were in his childhood room. He didn’t take the time to look around and deal with the nostalgia. The only thing he did was draw the drapes and then set her on the teal pad that was in the center of the room. Surrounding the pad was raised marble, oily orbs dancing around the edge of the bed, catching the magical glow of the room and then casting it throughout the room.

  Ambrose couldn’t wait any longer. The faint image of her mortal body shimmered beneath the scales, urging him on. Mari’s breath was hitched, excited. He fell upon her, trapping her hands above her head with one of his hands and holding them there.

  “Have to have you,” he whispered, before taking her jaw in his hand and burying his lips against hers.

  The needy whimper that broke from her throat doomed them both to a fiery heat.

  He felt the pleasurable sting of his legs returning, and knew there was no going back.

  Her soft, welcoming body moved under his, creating a friction that dragged a ragged groan from his breath. He trailed his hands down her delicate flesh, feeling for the silken skin. When he found it, another groan ripped from her chest. The scales were gone and she was more than ready for him.

  Gods, but just the feel of her had a raging heat building inside of him. Her sigh was sweet and ready, all for him.

  He opened her mouth with his own, licking her lower lip and then biting into the plump flesh. She moaned into his mouth, dragging her hands up his back to wrap around his neck, bidding him to give her more.

  Passion slid throughout his body and consumed him, took over him.

  “Want you,” she whimpered, digging her nails into his neck. The pain-pleasure shot down his back, straight to his cock.

  “Yours, Mari. All yours.”

  She smiled fleetingly, then began to struggle against his hold on her wrists. He loosened his grip, taking her jaw again and kissing her roughly, demanding she kiss him back.

  She did.

  Her tongue slid into his mouth, brushing against his. The taste of her was enough to make him growl. Thoughts of their last encounter came to his mind, and he jerked, arousal spiking.

  He tore his lips away from hers, trailing them down her jaw and then neck. She let her head fall back, exposing her delicate skin to him. The trust that she gave him rendered him speechless, and all he could do was take her in, worship her.

  It’s what she deserved. To be worshipped. To be loved. To be taken care of and never wanting. Ambrose tensed as she slid her hands down him, reaching for the part of him that wanted her most.

  A breath hissed from his chest when her soft hand wrapped around him. She stroked the heat, making Ambrose still and shudder above her. He shouldn’t have reacted to her touch so violently, but he couldn’t help it. The heat of her palms was destructive.

  “Wait, Mari,” he growled, pulling her hands away. “We never finished…what we started.”

  “Started?” she echoed throatily, eyes flaring wide. Her pupils dilated as realization came over her face, cheeks flushing.

  He nodded, taking one last nip at her neck before sliding down her body. He ran his lips over the curve of her breast, tracing her nipple with his tongue fleetingly. She moaned, threading her hands in his hair. Ambrose could feel the excitement in the air.

  He kissed her navel lightly, his hand finding her bare sex. As an Atlantean, she was completely bare except the golden locks on her head—which made enjoying her that much better.

  Ambrose traced the heated entrance, enjoying the way her body undulated on the pad, begging for him to fully enter her. Slowly, watching her face, he slid a finger inside of her core, groaning when he felt how hot and tight she was.

  “So perfect,” he grated, leaning down and kissing the tight nub. She jerked off of the bed, hands tightening in his hair. He chuckled between a groan, loving the taste of her. Like citrus oranges, one of his favorite treats from the surface. Her sweet taste invaded his senses, drugging him.

  Ambrose worked another finger inside of her, watching as her eyes popped wide. He took his fingers out, pressing his lips against her core. Immediately, hunger flared deep within him. He sipped at her greedily, demanding her cries. He could feel her begin to shudder above him, and her legs wrapped around his neck, holding him there.

  “Oh, god. Ambrose,” she cried out. In a rush, her body began to jerk and tremble. Her orgasm was the best thing he had ever had in his life. Pleasure coursed through him and he surged above her, taking her face in his hand.

  Her cheeks were flushed, small beads of water bubbling on her lashes. “Why do you cry?” he whispered, kissing the lids of her eyes.

  “Felt…so amazing.” She struggled to get the words out, but he understood nonetheless. His heart stuttered, pride taking over him. He had made his woman cry with the force of her release?

  Ambrose smiled, tilting her head back and kissing her. “You are amazing,” he said. Never had he meant anything as much as he meant those words. “You’re beautiful. Amazing. Perfect. I have never met anyone as strong as you, as gorgeous. Your cries are like the sweetest song. Your eyes, the way they are looking at me now, make me feel as if I can do anything. And I would, to make you happy.”

  By the time he was done speaking, he wanted to slap himself. Her face slowly became redder, until he knew she was getting ready for a full-out sob. He wrapped her in his arms. “Mari, I am—“

  “I love you.”

  He froze.

  “What?” Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly. No one except his parents had ever loved him. Ambrose was a monster and wasn’t worthy to even be near her, yet…

  “I said,” she whispered against his neck, brushing her lips over his jaw, “I love you.”

  His throat closed. “You…can’t.” I’ll never be good enough for you.

  “I do,” Mari said forcefully, putting a hand behind his neck and urging his face closer to hers. “I don’t care that you might not feel the same—well, I do care, but you know—but I’m not going to hide myself from you. I trust you, Ambrose. With my life.”

  She paused, taking a breath.

  “So I trust you with my heart.”

  The words were torn out of her mouth like it was hard for her to say them, but he knew they were true. “Someone hurt you,” he said, narrowing his eyes on her.

  Mari wrapped her legs around his waist, gazing up at him.

  “I don’t want to think about him. Later. Righ
t now, it’s us…and I feel like I’ve been waiting way too long.” Her sentence ended in a growl, and then she was pushing at his shoulders, putting him on his back.

  He took her hips in his hands, watching her. He would find out who hurt her, and would make sure that for every tear she shed, every break of her heart, they paid. Whoever thought about hurting this woman was as good as dead.

  She moved over him like liquid, shocking the holy hell out of him when she leaned down and pressed her lips to his jaw, nipping. Like he had done, she took her time tracing every inch of his body with her hands…and mouth. Her lips left a fiery trail on his body, covering him completely. Tendrils of lust began to curl in his gut, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before he lost his patience.

  She rocked her body against him, her damp heat brushing against his length seductively, lightly. Barely touching him yet enough that he could feel her. Gods, she was going to kill him. He felt all of the blood drain from his head, going to straight to his groin.

  “Mari,” he growled, stilling her with his hands.

  She looked down at him with a coy smile, making his body tense. “Sweet Atlantis. I need to have you—now.”

  “No,” she murmured, biting into his jaw gently. He groaned, fisting his hands.

  “Yes,” he begged, forcing one of his hands to unclench to wrap around the back of her neck. He pulled her face up to his, pressing his lips to hers. “Please.”

  She leaned into his kiss for all of a second before pulling back, giving him an admonishing glare. “No,” she said softly, breath catching. He smiled almost harshly.

  Ambrose loved that she didn’t bother to hide the affect he had on her.

  Loved that he affected her at all.

  Loved...her.

  “I’m going to take my time. I want this to be perfect,” she whispered, placing her hands on both sides of his chest, moving her body down his.

  “It already is,” he groaned. Hot and wet, her mouth had taken to licking and kissing her way down his body. When she was just at the beginning of his hips, she paused.

  He slammed his hands on the pad. “Damnit, Mari! Stop with the teasing!” Ambrose wanted to grab her, but he also wanted to know what she would do next—needed to know.

  She laughed and he swore it was the best sound he had ever heard. “Who said I’m teasing?”

  “I did,” he snarled, curling his hands into the pad. If she didn’t do something soon, he was going to take her— “Oh, holy fuck.”

  He felt her mouth wrap around his length, covering him. His legs buckled, and a ragged shout ripped from his chest. The flick of her tongue nearly scorched him, made him breathless.

  Ambrose couldn’t wait anymore. Gripping her shoulders, he dragged her away from his length, drew her to his chest, flipped her onto her back, and spread her thighs.

  “I’m sorry,” he grated, taking himself in his hand and guiding him to her sweet entrance. She moaned, grasping his forearms.

  “Now,” she demanded, moving her hips against his. A shout ripped from his chest as he buried himself inside of her.

  “Oh, Ambrose!” Her scream echoed throughout the room, making his hips surge against her. He was inside of her so deeply that he didn’t know where she began and he ended. Her heat washed over him like a tidal wave, dragging him under with desire.

  His head fell forward, heart thundering. He could have stayed like that forever—which was perfectly fine with him since it felt like it was impossible to move. The thought of leaving her heat, feeling her muscles clench around him as he did, was painful.

  Already he felt like the pleasure was too much, the desire too intense. Lust was shooting through him like sharp daggers, except the pain wasn’t actually pain—but a burning ember that was slowing branding Mari’s name into his soul.

  He could hardly image what she felt right now. Did she feel the same as he? Ambrose lifted his head, shoulders shaking from the effort it took to keep from surging inside her again.

  Those beautiful silver eyes were squeezed shut, her face twisted with a mix of pleasure and pain. He touched her cheek worriedly. “Mari?” he asked, wincing. His voice was nothing but a growl.

  “Why aren’t you moving?” she breathed, eyes opening, dazed. The silvery depths were flashing between onyx and slate, one of the most entrancing things he had ever seen.

  “Have I…hurt you?” Her muscles clenched around her, making his hips thrust forward in reaction. The surprised gasp she gave whispered through his ear; pleasure made him nearly blind.

  “No… Ambrose, please. I need you,” she whispered, voice breaking. Mari grabbed his shoulders, pushing up her hips and drawing him deeper.

  His fist clenched on the pad. “Sweet Atlantis, Mari. Don’t do that, you need to adjust—“

  “I’ve adjusted enough, damn it! Let me have you!” she slapped at his shoulder, frustration glimmering in her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this since the second I helped you stand up—now get moving.”

  His eyes widened for only a second, and then Mari was wrapping her legs around his waist and forcefully pushing him inside her with the heels of her feet. Her eyes closed on a shuddering gasp, and he watched, entranced.

  He began to follow her movements, slowly taking over the speed and roughness. The gentleness he felt, the need to protect her from even himself, was overcame by need. Complete and total need. Leaning down, beginning to thrust deeply inside her, he palmed her breasts.

  They were just right—filling his hand perfectly. She moaned, head twisting on the pad, hair spreading around her. “Touch me,” she whispered, arching her back and pressing her breasts into his hands.

  He complied, greedily taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking the tight berry, while his remaining hand trailed down to the juncture of their bodies, finding the center of her pleasure. He thumbed her, and she immediately jacked into a sitting position, a keening moan ripping from her throat.

  “Oh—yes,” she said into his ear, digging her nails into his shoulders.

  His tongue licked and laved at her nipple, biting down gently. She arched into his mouth, trying to pull him closer. His hips slowed their movement before he picked up speed, pushing her onto her back again and then ravaging her breast with his mouth.

  He slammed his hips into hers, going so far into her heat that he got lost in the pleasure it gave him. Her scream echoed in his ear, and he did it again, pulling back his hips and then surging inside of her.

  Gods, but she was perfect.

  He growled lowly, giving her nipple one last tug before going to the other one, giving it much needed attention. Ambrose felt her hands push into his hair, and knew he was doing it right. He smiled around her breast, right as she clenched around him.

  Ambrose felt the convulsions that rippled through her tight walls before he heard her soft, desperate whimpers. She was close—the way his name rang from her lips as she screamed, and the way her body began to tense as the waves of pleasure began to build, was enough for him.

  He put his hands on either side of her head, taking one of them and holding her leg up. This time, he didn’t hold back—he couldn’t if he had wanted to. Her breasts thrust into the water as he began to pound inside of her.

  “Ambrose!” she gasped, grabbing at his arms. Her eyes flipped wide before squeezing shut, back arching and body beginning to tremble under his as he relentlessly thrust inside of her, pushing to her core and then pulling out, just to slam back in.

  The ripples he felt coming from her spurred his own beginning. Ambrose dropped her leg, falling above her, hips still moving forcefully against hers as the trembling got worse.

  She jerked underneath him, and he stopped moving completely. Staring down at her as she met his eyes frantically, he slowly—oh, so slowly—pulled his hips back until just the tip of him was inside of her. Then, when she began to whimper and beg for him, he smiled.

  And thrust inside of her so quickly, so deeply, that they both came apart with a scream.


  Mari was floating on cloud nine—or she had died and gone to heaven. There was no other way to explain what had just happened to her, to them.

  Ambrose collapsed beside her, drawing her into his arms and holding her against his chest. “Mari,” he said deeply, his voice coming over her senses and making her shudder. The remnants of the orgasm made her whimper as he shifted them, and he smiled gently.

  “Yes, Ambrose?” she asked sleepily. Her body was so satisfied that it was drained. She had no energy left to move around. All she could do was lay there in his arms—but neither of them were complaining.

  “I think…” He paused, staring at her.

  “What?” she asked, beginning to flush. “I need just a second to rest and then we can—“

  He shut her up by kissing her, forcing her mouth open with his and demanding one of the hottest, most dominating kisses of her life.

  By the time he pulled back, her heart was racing and she didn’t think she needed a break anymore.

  “With us Atlanteans, we have…” He stopped again, dragging a hand over his face. He laid down on his back, dragging her on top of him. She began to draw light circles on his chest, not daring to say anything unless he not tell her at all.

  “Customs,” he finally said. “They are a lot different than your mortal ones, but they are true. We do not give our love lightly,” he murmured, covering her hand with his own, stilling the movement. “But when we give it, it is forever. Once one of our kind picks someone, we are bound together for the rest of eternity. It’s our way of life, and always has been—“

  “Ambrose,” Mari said softly, kissing his jaw. “I don’t need a whole lecture if it’s making it harder on you.”

  “No,” he said firmly, taking her jaw in his hands and caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I need to explain this. It’s the only thing that is making this feel real—that’s making you real.”

  She quieted.

  “I have no doubt that the throne will be mine—but there is still the threat of Ceto,” he growled, hate flashing through his eyes at the thought of her. Mari swallowed.