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The Merman's Kiss: A Mates for Monsters Novella

Page 3

by Tamsin Ley


  A soothing song pulsed from his throat, calming her nerves. Looking past him, she realized the water surrounding them was studded with what looked like tiny purple diamonds. It’s so beautiful. She reached out to try to catch one of the motes, but it slipped through her fingers as if it were air. What are they?

  Zantu wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck and sending a stream of bubbles through her hair. Humans call them plankton.

  Can you turn them on and off?

  His chest vibrated with sound, and the water went black.

  Oh, no, leave them on! She clawed forward, searching for him. Terror of the darkness, the unknown threatened to crush her.

  You asked me to turn them off.

  She located one of his biceps, wrapped both hands around it to pull him closer. No, I wanted to know if you could.

  Again, he sang the motes awake, and Brianna looked up into a face full of amused tenderness that made her heart skip a beat.

  He leaned in to press his forehead to hers. The odd-colored light made his eyes hard to read, but his voice in her head was full of all the sincerity she needed. I will keep you safe. Always.

  She reached up to caress his cheek, enjoying the smooth skin along his angular jaw. God help her, she believed him.

  At that moment, her stomach growled.

  And I’ll keep you fed. His chuckle matched the curve of his lips.

  A craving for nachos filled her. Or maybe fried chicken. She licked her lips. What did mermen eat? Raw fish? She’d never been a fan of sushi. Even rare steak made her queasy.

  Don’t worry, little angelfish. We’re mostly vegetarians. Sit. He pulled a chair away from the rosewood table and gestured.

  So far, she’d only moved through the water with his aid. Now, left to her own mobility, she floundered over and took a seat. Luckily, he wasn’t watching.

  He’d taken a knife to the edge of the clearing and was cutting seaweed and other unidentified items, placing them into a huge half-shell bowl. She watched him work, the muscles of his back and arms bulging and rippling with his movements. His powerful tail flexed with muscle as well, each move through the water accomplished with mere flickers of effort. This had been her first chance to really look at him without him looking back. She wanted to reach out and touch the delicate-looking fin at the end of his tail. Examine what she imagined were tiny scales covering his body. Find out exactly where he hid his cock when they weren’t making love.

  I can show you if you like.

  Her skin heated with embarrassment even as her pussy tightened. She’d forgotten he could basically hear her every thought.

  He looked over his shoulder at her and winked. Don’t be embarrassed, little angelfish. I like to know what you’re thinking. In a flash of movement, he somersaulted through the water to face her and set the half-shell down on the table. What do men look like in your world?

  Not like you. The tremor in her thoughts embarrassed her even more, but she refused to look away from him.

  What’s so different? He moved closer, hovering mere inches away, six-pack abs flexing with the tiny circular movements of his tail. His webbed hands spread across his ribs and slowly made their way down over his hips, drawing her gaze like a lure to the place where his cock should be—a bulge, there beneath the skin, covered as if by well-fitted clothing.

  His thought reached out and caressed her. Compelled her. Touch me.

  Swallowing, she reached out a hand and brushed her fingertips across the bulge. A note like a sigh of pleasure coursed through the water. Emboldened, she placed her entire palm over the lump, surprised by his heat. By the softness of his skin. She’d expected scales, but he was as smooth here as he was on his torso.

  Scales are for fish. Desire colored his thought.

  What are you, then?

  Am I not a man?

  She caressed the throbbing bulge, the crevice between her thighs immediately hot and slick. Fish or man, she wanted him.

  Like magic, the skin beneath her fingers bloomed open to reveal a dark, throbbing cock. Her fingers squeezed the velvety hot thickness of him, coaxing a glistening pearl from the tip. Without thinking, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth. He tasted of salt and musk and every bit as male as any man she’d known.

  He groaned, hands settling on her shoulders. What are you doing to me? His thought was thick with lust.

  Delighted with the ability to “speak” while pleasuring him, she circled her tongue around the head of his dick. Making you mine.

  His hands on her shoulders tightened. Do not mock me.

  The urgency of his emotions touched her through their link like never before. Exposed and raw. His desire shone bright and full but was shadowed with a mix of anger and resignation she didn’t understand. She wrapped her hands around his hips and pulled him closer to her, tilting her chin to take him more deeply into her mouth.

  He groaned, his fingers digging into her shoulders as she sucked deeply. Against the back of her throat, she felt his release. After a shuddering moment, he disengaged and pulled her from the chair to squeeze her against his chest. I will not let you leave me.

  The statement threw her off guard. Surprised her. She hadn’t thought of escaping from Zantu, not since that awful episode with the mermaid. Despite the fact she was in the depths of the ocean. His promise to protect her made her feel safe. Nurtured.

  He crushed his lips against hers. Her hands flattened against his ribs, her breasts tight against him, as he devoured her with deep, rolling thrusts of his tongue. If she’d been standing, she would’ve been weak at the knees. As it was, the water allowed them to twist and dance with each other without needing support.

  His cock thrummed in a hard line against her belly, and she once again found his tail parting her legs. She slipped a hand between them, grabbed hold of him, and guided him inside her, yearning for the pressure of him, the fullness. The rippling muscles of his abs and the water slicking her skin ignited every nerve cell in her body with need.

  Sliding a hand down her back to cup her ass, he pulled her firmly onto his rock-hard length and pressed himself into her core. He held there, deep and pulsing inside her while he ground against her clit. His tongue teased over her teeth and gums.

  She wrapped her legs tightly around him, the edge of her climax rising above her like a wave about to engulf them both.

  His teasing rhythm kept the wave hovering just out of reach. You’re mine.

  Please, please, she begged, unable to form a coherent thought.

  Tell me you are. The hand on her ass squeezed, pressing him deeper into her folds with excruciating pleasure.

  She threw back her head and bucked her hips against him, searching for release. I’m yours. Please!

  Satisfaction dominated his thoughts, and he drew back only to pound immediately into her, again and again, until the wave broke and sent her spiraling into dizzying relief.

  Brianna’s head thrummed with what reminded her of morning birdsong: trills from her left, bass-throated hoots from high to the right, and an eerie rising and falling tenor undertone she realized was coming from Zantu.

  He sat on the shell-strewn floor at the edge of the clearing, tail curled to one side, as he appeared to be tending the fine fronds of bright-green eelgrass growing there. Sunlight cut sharp angles in the kelp swaying above their heads, filtering gold light down into the clearing.

  Still not believing everything that had happened yesterday, she sent a tentative thought. What is that noise?

  The ocean’s salute to the sun, my angelfish. Come, breakfast awaits you.

  She sat up, realizing he’d moved her to the bed some time during the night. Tiny bubbles rose from the sponges and caressed her sides. She stretched and looked around.

  Her gaze fell on the table, where two bone china plates had been set along with what looked like two solid-gold forks. A half-shell bowl waited in the center, brimming with seaweed and whatever else Zantu had deemed edible, much of it floating free
of the bowl but enough remaining within to be considered a meal. Her stomach quivered, still nervous about what he might consider tasty. But by now she was hungry enough to eat almost anything.

  She pushed herself from the bed, aiming for the table, and discovered if she relaxed, she could walk, albeit in slow motion. The stones and shells beneath her toes were surprisingly rough, but solid enough to give her purchase, and she made it to the chair without floundering too much. She sat and admired the place settings.

  Are those real gold? She reached for a fork.

  They were my father’s. Zantu joined her, sliding himself into the chair next to her. He found them in a sunken ship many years ago.

  You had a father? The thought was out before she could think about how stupid she sounded. She covered her mouth, even though the words hadn’t come from her lips. What a rude question. She’d never thought of mermen having families. Come to think of it, she’d never thought about mermen at all until yesterday.

  Of course we have families. Well, fathers and siblings, at least.

  Curiosity nibbled at her thoughts, and she fought to control it, but it was like only a sieve existed between their minds. What about your mother?

  He used a smaller shell to scoop what looked like seaweed salad onto her plate, his thoughts obviously guarded. Mermaids do not care for children.

  She frowned, unsure what to make of that bit of information. So they have a baby and abandon it?

  He shrugged. Fathers take care of the young.

  Are there a lot of other mermen? She looked around at the wall of kelp, as if the words might make one appear.

  Zantu’s hands paused briefly, then he pushed her plate in front of her, his silver eyes intensely regarding her. Do not concern yourself with other merfolk.

  Brianna tilted her head, a small smile tugging the corner of her mouth. Was that jealousy she detected? Afraid I’ll run off with another merman? Or maybe a mermaid—

  Do not tease about such things.

  The seriousness of his thought sobered her. Reminded her of her own vows of marriage, strengthened by her oath to her brokenhearted father to never follow in her mother’s footsteps. She clenched her hands in her lap and stared at the seaweed salad. I can’t stay with you. I’m married.

  In your world, that means very little.

  Her ire rose. What do you know about our world? I take my vows very seriously.

  Even as she sent the thought, the hypocrisy of her words stopped her. The truth was, she’d abandoned her loyalty to Eric the moment she’d decided to jump. She’d chosen a coward’s way out. And Eric was now as alone as her father had been. She might as well have divorced him.

  Zantu placed a webbed hand over hers. For a merman, a mate is for life.

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. I thought you said mermaids didn’t stick around.

  His jaw muscles twitched. Even so, a merman will only ever take one mate.

  The way he thought mate held so much more meaning than could be put into words. Adoration. Certainty. Grief. And in spite of the contradictions, she knew exactly what it meant. The hopefulness of a word that could never truly be fulfilled. The inevitable loneliness of a life with the wrong person. Trapped in a marriage to a cold fish like Eric…

  Her gaze shifted past Zantu’s shoulder to the cradle resting in the middle of his nest. A baby cradle in a merman’s lair. Had his mate left him with a child? Why else would he need a cradle? A twinge of jealousy invaded her as she pictured him with a gorgeous mermaid like the one they’d encountered yesterday. Then her gut squirmed. Why was she here? To raise a child in lieu of its missing mother?

  A soothing series of notes permeated the water, stopping her thoughts. Brianna, you are my mate.

  She met Zantu’s gaze, blinking in confusion. Me? What?

  You claimed me when you seduced me.

  Seduced you? You’re the one who kissed me.

  The barbs of his dorsal fin darkened from blued silver to inky midnight. I kissed you only to give you enough life to reach the surface. You’re the one who… who… wrapped your legs around me and made me yours.

  Indignation drove her to her feet and sent her floating slowly upward. Are you calling me a whore?

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to the bottom beside him. His metallic-silver eyes bored into her with disconcerting intensity. I don’t know what a whore is, but from your tone, I believe it’s a bad thing. So no, I will not call you a whore. But I don’t want you to mistake my objective in saving you.

  Your objective? She tried to jab a finger toward him, her ire doubled by how slowly she was forced to move her hand. You’ve made me a slave!

  We don’t keep slaves. His grip on her wrist tightened, becoming almost painful. A series of deep clicks resonated through the water while his chest flexed widely like the hood of a cobra. If anyone’s a slave, it’s me. I’ve avoided mermaid songs for thirty-five years, only to be captured by… by a human!

  She yanked her hand free of his grip. If you feel that way about humans, why didn’t you just let me die? Even as she said it, she regretted it.

  He blew a violent string of bubbles and rose to hover above the table. Maybe I should have. But now I am bound to protect you. I could no more let you die than I could kill our child. With a flick from his tail, he was next to the coral-supported cradle. A merman’s driven to nest, mate or no mate. To prepare. To care for a baby in spite of overwhelming heartbreak. When you have our child, I’ll be ready to care for it, whether you’re here or not.

  His words hit her like a rock skipped over the water, only sinking in after the momentum had played out. He’d said “our child.” Could a human and a merman…?

  I don’t know. He responded to her half-formed question. Mermaids carry half-human children. Abandon them with one mate or another. I imagine our union will produce the same.

  He spoke as if a child were a foregone conclusion. Could it be? Her fingers strayed to her abdomen. She and Eric had tried so hard… Her hands hooked into claws. She knew that wasn’t true. Over the last twenty-four hours, she and Zantu had coupled more times than she and Eric had in the last two months.

  The real question was not if it was possible, but did she want it to be possible?

  Her gaze returned to the man before her. His silver tail brushed the pebbled floor while his torso glinted in the filtered morning sunlight. He was her mate. A mate for life. A mate who wanted children, had sworn to protect her, and had created a love nest for her before he even knew who she was. Leaving him would be the biggest mistake of her life. She walked toward him, attempting to be graceful in spite of the water’s resistance. Do you want one or two?

  A jolt of elation reached her through their bond—a bond she now recognized as special. The kind mates should have. He drifted to meet her, his silver eyes alight with fire. As many as you will give me.

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

  Chapter Six

  ZANTU CRADLED HIS mate in his arms after making love again, free-floating in the center of the clearing. She rolled over to snuggle her back against him, and he flexed his tail to maintain contact around her bottom and legs. You’ve curled up like a little shrimp, he teased.

  Through the mental connection, she huffed indignantly. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to floating around all day. Can we go lie on the bed?

  He pushed her hair aside to dot tiny kisses behind her ear. Mmmm, I just realized you have something to offer no mermaid does. He slid one hand along her spine and cupped her bottom, fingers following the crease to discover her still-slick opening. We can do it from behind.

  Brianna stiffened, her skin trembling with tiny vibrations. Fear, not excitement. He halted his caress. Does that position offend you?

  Are you sure I shouldn’t concern myself with other merpeople?

  The worry he’d made a faux pas suggesting a new position was flushed away in a brine of adrenaline. Already she was thinking of other men. Yet her
thoughts weren’t full of lust… Why do you ask?

  I think there’s someone watching us.

  Releasing his embrace, he whipped around in front of her, eyes scouring the kelp wall she’d been facing. Had Loia tracked them down after all? When his vision revealed nothing, he loosed a sonic query, reading the bounce-back for any irregularities. He knew this kelp forest like he knew his own fins.

  A flash of turquoise silver caught the edge of his song. Familiar colors. Familiar shape. The tension in his shoulders and dorsal fin relaxed. He sang a playful coo, an invitation. “Ebby, come out.”

  From the floor between two crustacean-covered rocks, a tiny face appeared. “Hi, Uncle Zantu.”

  “What are you doing? Where’s your father?” The sonic query should have revealed the larger shape of the merman or at least elicited an answering song. Perhaps his brother had spotted Brianna and fled.

  The merchild remained partially hidden in the rocks, large eyes even more gigantic as they rested on Brianna. “What’s that?”

  Of course the child would be frightened, and Brianna’s thoughts weren’t exactly calm at this moment, either. He pulled his mate from behind him by the hand, singing and thinking at the same time, “Ebby, this is Brianna, my mate. Brianna, meet my nibling, Ebby.”

  Ebby slithered out from between the rocks, mottled turquoise skin shifting to blend with the darker greens and purples of the mussels behind.

  Oh my God. A baby. A real live mer… what are merchildren called?

  That. Merchildren. Zantu smiled.

  Snagging the bit of silk from the cradle and wrapping it about her hips, Brianna approached the child clumsily and settled to her knees against the stone-and-shell floor. Is it a boy or a girl?

  Merchildren are sexless until puberty, Zantu sent, only half-listening to her. Ebby was far too young to be wandering the kelp alone. Where was Rubac? Had something attacked his brother’s nest?

 

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