by N. R. Larry
His touch became lighter. Playful. My stomach tightened and I almost giggled. “Tell me, my Adaro,” I said, managing to keep my voice steady. “What could a surface man possibly teach an Atlantean?”
“Well,” he said, dragging his fingers across the folds of my core. My breath hitched. “Not much, I’m sure. But I did learn one thing.” He dragged his fingers in the opposite direction, teasing me. My eyes rolled back into my head, but I managed not to bounce around on all fours like an animal. “They use their mouths on their women,” he told me. Then, he leaned forward and kissed one of my cheeks.
I went still and turned my head back toward him. “To do what with?” My desire was somewhat quelled with curiosity. Where the in the seven seas was he going with this?
“To bring their women to climax,” he said, and the look in his eyes reminded me of how he always looked right before a great feast. “They call it… eating pussy.”
I snorted laughter, and his eyes narrowed. I knew better than to think I’d hurt his feelings. Jett’s feelings were never hurt. “Come on, you can’t be serious.”
He smacked my ass, driving the curiosity right out of me. I gritted my teeth, hoping he was going to come to his senses and take me. Poseidon knew I needed it.
“I’m going to try it,” he growled at me, hitting the other cheek even harder. My skin ached and tingled in equal measure. “And you’re going to let me experiment. Aren’t you, my priestess?”
The steel in his voice made me forget how silly his demand was. His hardness always made me feel weak and strong at the same time. With my eyes half closed, I nodded. He lowered his face and his soft curls brushed against my upper thighs. With a rough touch, he spread my cheeks and lowered his lips toward me.
His tongue flicked across my clit. I squirmed and giggled. “Tickles,” I breathed, ready to call the experiment a failure. He grunted and spread my legs apart so far that my knees were barely gracing the sheets on the bed. He locked my thighs in a vice grip. I gasped. His tongue flicked across my slit again. It still tickled, but this time a warmth spread through me. It took me off guard. Within seconds, my body surrendered to him. His tongue traced slow, deliberate circles against my clit.
“Hah.” I lowered my face toward the mattress and gripped the sheets between my teeth because it felt so good I had to bite into something. I couldn’t help but to push myself back into his mouth. His tongue swept across me a little faster. My entire body began to tremble. His lips sealed around my clit and sucked for a few seconds that drove me crazy. I slapped the bed and whipped my head to the other side. “Mm, yes.” These surface women were fucking genius. I’d never felt anything like this, and found myself hoping he would never stop.
He pulled away from me and blew on the folds of my pussy. Right away, I reached back, dug my fingers into his hair, and tried to force his mouth back against me.
That made him laugh outright. “You like this!”
“Mm.” I used more of my strength trying to get that beautiful mouth back against me. “I love it.”
He blew again, and I cried out like someone in pain. My cry turned quickly into a growl. “Damnit, Jett,” I grunted, with an edge of violence in my tone. I tried to force him back and he pulled against me. We fought. My heart hammered loudly inside my skull. I squirmed and tossed my hips back, my head filled with only need. Jett smacked both of my cheeks and let out a whoop before shifting on the bed above me.
He took my hips into his arms and buried his lips into my core. My toes curled, and my body jerked as if it were out of my control. He wasn’t gentle this time. He didn’t tease. The warmth flooded back and built inside of me until my midsection went rigid. I clenched my teeth. “Oh, yes.” I grabbed his hair and slammed myself against his tongue. His fingers slipped in and out, his tongue worked all around. My eyes rolled back into my head. Soon, I was whimpering and pounding the bed, like a virgin wet with her first orgasm. “Don’t stop,” I screamed. “Please, don’t stop.”
He grunted and made his tongue even more rigid. It vibrated against me even faster. The heat swelled. The sheets were between my fingers, and I was ripping them from the bed. I didn’t care who heard, I was his and I wanted him to hear every moment of my orgasm.
“Jett. Mm. I’m going to come.”
He didn’t stop.
My mind seemed to blank and every rigid muscle in my body released at once. It felt so good, it hurt, and I couldn’t be still. I crawled up the bed, trying to escape his tongue, but he was relentless, he pulled me back and lowered himself so that I was on top of his mouth.
“No, I can’t.” The words came out of my mouth like a scream.
He stopped for one blissful moment, and then sucked on my clit hard. My back arched, and I dug my fingers into his hair and let my body rock on the wave of his tongue. The release lasted for minutes that left me breathless and out of my mind.
When he was sure I couldn’t take any more he flopped me over like a caveman and wiped my pleasure from his goatee. I lay there trembling and wide-eyed. He perched himself up beside me on his elbow, his dark eyes dancing wickedly. I opened my mouth to beg him not to touch me, but all that came out was an odd groan.
His eyes widened slightly, and then he chuckled. He slid stray hairs off my sweaty forehead, and the look in his eyes was tender, I wanted to curl into him but every inch of me felt raw.
Finally, I closed my eyes and took in a few breaths. “I suppose that will teach me not to prejudge surface people.”
He laughed in a way that was almost a cackle and I couldn’t help but smile. Feeling braver, I finally decided to curl into him. He kissed my forehead. My monster was tender, at least, when it came to me.
We lay like that for a few minutes, and then there was the sound of the door opening and closing. Marlowe called out to me. Footsteps padded throughout the house, and for some reason, it comforted me. It was familiar.
“Priestess?” Jett asked, his voice still husky.
I peered up at him.
“Can we keep that one between us for now?”
My heart warmed, as it always would, toward him. I kissed the scar in his eyebrow. “Why don’t you go and see what they’ve found out,” I said, still breathless. “Let me recover.”
He winked, clearly proud of himself. As he sauntered toward the door, I said, “And yeah, Jett. Our secret. For now.”
Even though he wasn’t facing me, I knew there was a smile on his face.
4
Marlowe
Jett came dancing down the stairs more like a frickin’ merman than a monster that could shift into a humanoid shark and tear even the mightiest things in the sea apart—which meant I didn’t have to ask what he was doing while we were out.
“Gentlemen,” he said, drumming his fists on the kitchen counter. “Our priestess is eager for good news.” He plopped himself on one of the stools at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room.
Conway turned from putting whatever weird health shit he was excited about into the fridge. “From what the locals say, we’re better off going back and squaring off with the sea king.”
I glanced at my computer screen as I waved him off. “Ignore him. You know how dramatic he can be.”
Conway leaned against the counter and eyed me. “Yeah, why don’t you tell him why Zarya’s contact was willing to let us set up camp here without asking anything in return.”
I sighed. “Getting rid of ghosts that have plagued an island for decades is hardly, anything in return,” I said using the surface people gesture of sarcasm, air quotes.
Conway held up his arms and eyed Jett. Jett darted an amused glance in my direction that was too fast for Conway to catch. “It’s because every person that’s ever lived in this house has died and become part of the Kappa.”
Jett waved his hands in the air. “Oooh.”
I pursed my lips to stifle my laughter. Poor Conway. He was like the brother we both got a kick out of fucking with. I mean, we all enjoyed screwi
ng with one another, but Jett and I enjoyed screwing with Conway the most. He gave the best rewards.
“Screw you, man!” Conway crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t sign up to be ghost food.”
Now I did laugh, and of course, Jett’s laughter boomed loud enough to shake the walls. “All the things we’ve faced down, and you’re scared of surface monsters?”
He pointed at Jett. “These things may have been human once, but now they’re sea monsters, not surface monsters.”
Jett pounded his chest. “Good, then we will earn the right to stay here. It will be a challenge.”
I got off the stool and pointed at my computer. “I cross referenced the local stories and came up with what we’re most likely dealing with. You should go over it,” I said to Jett. “And you,” I said, focused on Conway. “Get the dinner ready. Freaked out or not, we don’t want to appear rude.”
He started to argue, but then simply nodded. The best way to shut down a Conway argument was to appeal to his sense of etiquette. Jett clapped him on the back. “I’ll help ya, pretty boy.”
They started discussing something, and I slipped upstairs and headed down the hall. Finally, I found Zarya laying on the bed in the master bedroom. Her eyes were half closed and the sheets were wrinkled all around her. I leaned against the door and took in her glow. For the first time since we left Atlantis, she looked like herself. The great sea priestess—protector of the warriors of the seven seas.
I cleared my throat and she lifted her head. A slow smile turned up her coral tinted lips. I edged into the room and sat next to her on the bed. “Marlowe,” she said, her voice low and playful. “Tell me, how much have I doomed us?”
I stared at her naked body and had to force my mind to focus. She seemed to sense my distraction, because she pulled a sheet over herself and sat up.
I cleared my throat. “This island seems charged with magic.” I shook my head. “Seems that there is a connection between here and Atlantis I haven’t been able to pin down yet.” I tilted my head to the side. “Tell me more about your surface contact, Sophie.”
She smiled and swept my hair back off my forehead. “As you’ve probably sensed, I’ve had more contact with the surface than I’ve let on, even to you.” Averting her gaze, she took my hand and lightly entwined her fingers with mine. I could have told her I knew this, that I had a sense of the secrets that troubled her, no matter how much she tried to guard them, but she already knew, and I owed her at least the illusion of privacy. Hell, I owed her everything.
“Sophie and I came to know each other entirely by accident,” she began in a quiet voice. “I’ve always been curious about the surface. It was through that study that I discovered these portals.”
I tilted my head as I considered her words. “There are more than one?”
She nodded. “The strongest of which is in our new living room.”
I traced my thumb across her delicate knuckles and remained silent.
“Of course, I brought my findings to the sea king.” Her gaze darkened at the mention of him. “His reaction was… unexpected.”
When she didn’t go on I squeezed her hand and her memories opened up to me. The smell of salt in the air overcame me. I blinked through blue-green foam as a harsh glow streamed into my vision. Golden light pulsed in the distance and towers shot up through bubbling water. Dark figures darted in between those towers and I realized we were home—or at least we were in our minds.
My vision tunneled as my focus sharpened.
I was inside the palace staring at a figure on the throne. His dark hair spiraled out from him, twisting around the coral he sat on, and one of his hands rested on the arm of the throne. Other than that, his features were distorted, and I realized this must be King Caspian. Even here, she was protecting him for some reason, as no one but the sea witch and a select few others had looked upon his true form.
“You would deny me?” his voice boomed through the water.
In memory, her head snapped in his direction and she was as I’d known her my entire life, adorned in golden armor and headdress and housing everything beautiful and dangerous about the deep sea.
“You knew of these portals,” she hissed. “You would prey upon them in my name?”
The silence that followed her question was as good as a physical blow. A challenge. A call to war.
“Your name?” the king finally asked, his voice dark and lyrical. “Your name is nothing!”
Her hair fanned out around her, and even though it was a memory, a vision of her in the past, I had to work to keep my breath. Her eyes leveled him. I couldn’t see his face or steal his thoughts, but he must have shrunk away from that look, and at the same time, he must have wanted her more than he ever had before.
Her golden boots left craters in the palace floor as she stomped toward him. Then, they were on the same level. “My name is why you sit on that throne.”
He stood and there was a blur of movement. Her golden blade sliced through the water and she pressed the weapon to his throat. Then, she smiled down at him.
He laughed. “Sea wench. I will have you in my bed and I will do whatever I please in your name, you are nothing without me.”
She bared her teeth at him. “We shall see about that, my king.”
There was another blur of movement, and then a loud boom. Zarya gasped, and then let out a scream. The sea king laughed, and a vortex opened, swallowing him back into it. Seconds later, the opening in the water was gone and the water went still. Zarya was on her knees, gasping, and darting her gaze in every direction.
Slowly, she stood. In the distance, a small voice whispered, “Traitor.”
Her eyes widened. Quickly, she sheathed her weapon, and the water foamed violently before turning murky and black.
I gasped as my mind was blown away from the vision. I blinked over and over and shook my head with the violence of a dog trying to dry himself off.
“Marlowe, you’re hurting me,” Zarya whispered.
I glanced down and realized I had her fingers in a vice grip. Snatching my hand away, I muttered my apologies. There was a beat of silence, and then she curled herself against me and I rested my head on top of her hair.
“Why would you keep that secret?” I finally asked.
She didn’t answer.
“You thought we would believe you were a traitor?”
More silence.
“Why weren’t you able to kill him?” I finally asked. “And what was that blackness? A spell of some kind?”
She raised her head and stared at me, her gaze soft and reflective. Finally, she said, “He’s feeding off them. And he’s doing it in my name.” Her hand balled into a fist. “He’s creating other monsters like him, and I have no way of knowing who, or how many.”
My mind blanked, and then I began to go through a dozen different possibilities. “Feeding on surface people,” I muttered. “Demanding your body. Your blood.” I closed my eyes. Dread knotted in my stomach. I squeezed her hand again, taking care to remember my strength had returned because of the portal. Finally, I opened my eyes. “He wants to raise Atlantis.”
Her gaze sharpened. She stared at me for several moments, probably allowing what she already knew was true to set in. As she shook her head, a dozen emotions flickered across her face, the main of which was disgust.
“He fancies himself the king of all,” she spat.
“This is bad, Zar,” I said, standing up to pace the room.
She was about to say something when Conway stuck his head into the room. He looked concerned. “I’ve been calling you guys forever,” he scolded. I glanced out the window, the sun was sinking, draping the sky in a dark blanket. Our telepathic trip to Zar’s memories clearly took more time than we both realized. “Our guest is here.”
5
Zarya
I should have seen it. Of course, Marlowe came to the truth of it, he was always the cleverest of my familiars, still, I should have seen it. For the next fe
w hours, I could focus on nothing else.
I thought the sea king was simply mad with power, but that he thought himself the king of all—that he wanted to try to raise Atlantis in order to rule the surface along with the seas—I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
Sophie was lovely—a brown skinned surface woman with doe eyes and wild, curly hair. She had so many innocent questions, most of which I failed to answer, luckily, Marlowe was at my back, steering the poor woman away from the fact that my mind wasn’t there.
Even as she explained about the Kappa and brought out a host of tools we might use to draw them out, I couldn’t focus on her words.
I ran because I thought the sea king wanted to claim me and lead Atlantis in a different, darker direction—but the truth was that I’d left my people in more danger than I could ever have imagined.
“Why at three?” Marlowe was asking loudly.
I jumped and snapped my gaze in his direction. We were all seated around the humble kitchen table, enjoying the spread Conway lovingly prepared. I glanced down at my plate and realized my food was gone. I had eaten without realizing it, and so had all of them.
I glanced at Jett, and then Conway, both of whom had their focus on Sophie. Jett was toying with what looked like a bag of salts, one of many that had been spread out on the table.
“Well, I can’t be sure,” Sophie said. Her voice had a strange lilt to it. A lyrical, slow movement that was charming and hypnotic. I blinked and forced myself to focus on the rest of what she was saying, “But I believe it’s because it’s the demonic hour.”
That got my attention.
I glanced at the three of them, and then leaned across the table toward Sophie. “Demonic?” I asked. “I thought we were dealing with ghosts.”
She looked at me, mouth agape. For a moment, it was as if she couldn’t speak. I frowned and lifted an eyebrow. “Sophie?”
She kind of giggled and began bobbing her head up and down. I glanced at Marlowe, who was sitting beside her as if to ask what was going wrong with the human. Marlowe laughed and patted her shoulder. “Well, welcome to the conversation, priestess.” With his hand still on her shoulder, he eyed me. “Sophie here seems to be a big fan. At the start of dinner, she was throwing questions at you left and right while you kind of sat there like a stone replica.” He grinned. “I’m sure she simply needs a few minutes to get used to the idea that you are real.”