by Mima
Just as Charlotte despaired of her choice, a mermaid leaped from the ocean, snatching Isabella clean off the vehicle. The machine rolled, bobbed back upright, sputtered off. Shaking her head in disbelief, Charlotte tried to process what she’d just seen. The creature was gray, with a dolphin’s fluke and small, sleek breasts, fuzzy brown hair like an otter’s, and long muscular arms tipped with lethal claws. When it opened its mouth, rows of teeth gleamed like daggers.
Isabella did not bob to the surface, did not swim for the jet ski. There was no thrashing fight in the water, just the slight chop of the waves. Ivor stayed focused on sailing the boat, his big legs folded high near his chest, his ass skimming inches from the water. Charlotte stayed focused on not screaming, and maintaining her grip on the slippery boat. She didn’t look back, but the screams from the island faded. The cruise ship grew larger, and then the wide, low tender zoomed out from the ship and roared toward them. Holding it in her sights, flinching with every ripple of the sail, she willed it toward them.
Long minutes later, it was close enough for hope. A huge, burly man stood on the bow with a machine gun. A thin, skeletal man stood on the rear with a flaming spear. They’d already picked up one person from a sea kayak, a sobbing teenage boy wrapped in a white towel.
As it headed toward them, Ivor threw her a look. “I think I’m falling in love with you. This cruise isn’t enough time. I want to see you when you go back to New York.”
“I thought you lived in Oslo.”
“It’s just a place.”
“I don’t like werewolf games.”
“We won’t play them. I promise. I’ll find you a wisp tutor, help you trace your lineage. You might have family.”
She licked her salted lips, heart still pounding in expectation of a demon mermaid. “I . . . I think I’d like that.”
He nodded once. “I’ll make sure you like it.” He sounded grim.
She reached out to touch the fist working the sail’s line. “Ivor, is Isabella . . . ?”
He shook his head. “I’ll have to enter negotiations with them to ransom her back, if they haven’t eaten her already. Greedy damned mermaids.”
The shuttle pulled up to the little sailboat, cutting its speed.
“Dinner tonight, my place. Wear the bikini.” Ivor stood, catching the rope they threw. His thighs flexed as he held his balance effortlessly, a Viking born to the sea.
“Arrogant stupidhead,” Charlotte sputtered.
He pulled them in closer, muscles rippling. “You have my sincerest apology for setting you up with Isabella. Please, Charlotte.”
The thin man wound the towline to the cleat of the tender. She relaxed. They’d made it away.
Sighing, she looked back at the dot of an island. Lights sparkled innocently across the water like diamonds. It would be very good to have a strong guide in this sometimes dangerous magical world. A protector. Almost as good as having a wonderful lover. “Yes, I’ll see you tonight. No fish. I’m in the mood for steak.”
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
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“I want to lie out.” She’d be less scared feeling something firm along her back. She didn’t want to be uncertain, didn’t want to be distracted from the pleasure she knew he’d bring her.
Charlotte drew away from Ryder’s sleekly muscled arms. She dragged her feet along the nubby surface of the diving board. Goosebumps that rivaled said surface covered her nape and arms. It might hurt to lie on this. She didn’t think she’d care. Not when she was with Ryder.
“Will you hold my hand?”
“Of course, chérie.” He held both of her hands firmly while she crouched, feeling ridiculous as she sat.
Gasping as the board flexed, she paused, then carefully swung her feet up onto the board, gripping each side with her hands. Then she lay back, her abs trembling from exertion. Her hips didn’t quite fit, so her grip came to rest along her ribs, with her elbows sticking out. So far, this was not sexy.
Then her gaze found Ryder’s. He had one arm across his ribs, propping the elbow of the other. His hand was at his mouth, and she knew he was covering laughter. She pursed her lips, swallowing a tart rebuke. She’d volunteered for this nonsense, and she’d try it a little longer. She crossed her eyes.
This time he did snort with laughter. “You are a delight.”
Her smile almost broke her face. He was so fun. “What next?”
His smile faded. “Now, you cross your ankles.”
Huh? She crossed her ankles.
“Shift your hips. Make sure your back isn’t arched.”
She scooted slightly, feeling what he meant. Feeling the texture of the board nip at her skin.
“Grab the board above your head.”
One arm at a time, she moved her grip higher, feeling like a stretched offering floating in air.
“Close your eyes.”
She studied him. His shoulders were stark, dramatically wider than his hips. The beginnings of his erection lifted him into an arch. He still had his chin propped in one hand, while he stood negligently at the end of the board, outlined by stars, lit from below with neon blue. He looked like an otherworldly aristocrat.
“Were you a lord? Some sort of nobility?” she whispered.
He lifted one brow, his lips quirking. “I was the sixth of nine in a candlemaker’s hovel, which reeked of boiling fat.” Then he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.
She laughed. “Well, you certainly have found your inner power. You look like a rock star for any era.”
He shook his head. “My nickname was cavalier. I worked hard to own a horse, harder to own a sword, harder still to learn how to master both. But it was many years before the peasant became a warrior.”
She could picture him in her mind, with a big musketeer hat . . . or perhaps even an armored helm. But in either image he had a jaunty red plume. “You would be magnificent on horseback.”
“Oh, I am,” he crooned.
A full-body shiver raced down her spine.
“I am a cavalier to my bones, a man born to ride . . . anything.” With fluid grace he knelt at her feet. The board waved softly, rocking her. “I will ride you now. I will break you so gently to the bridle you’ll never buck once.”
He crawled forward, his shoulders rolling in deep circles as he came up over her crossed ankles. “Now close your eyes, sweet filly mine, and let your lesson begin.”
Her lashes slammed shut, her breath coming hard before he’d even touched her. His chest met her thighs and she gasped. He slid up her body like a snake, pulling himself forward by grabbing the board, the strength and weight of him setting her heartbeat to full gallop.
“One small adjustment.” His voice soft, he warned, “Hold tight.”
She felt his abdomen contract as he lifted his torso up. His hands swept up her ribs to gather her breasts. Crushing them together, he settled back down, trapping them beneath him. His hands glided up the exposed underside of her arms, causing her to hiss at the streak of sensation. He gripped her wrists in a loose circling hold. “Do you see how gently I cover you? Now feel. Just let my weight settle down and see how you were made to accept it.”
He tucked his face in against hers and nuzzled her cheek, then rested his nose there, his breath warm along her throat. She found herself holding her breath, her heart thudding. Struggling to relax, she battled the tactile onslaught.
She’d experienced absolutely nothing like this in the world. His erection was long and hard against her hip, prodding her belly. She felt it pulse, and clenched her ass, which lit up from the gritty surface. Her calves and shoulders also felt it keenly. Her folds throbbed, moist and aching with her legs locked t
ogether. Her breasts were crushed, her nipples stabbing so hard against his lightly furred chest. He was heavy, compressing her ribs, his thighs rough along hers.
After long minutes, she moaned, “Please.”
He kissed her cheek, so gently. Her temple, her forehead. His face was slightly higher than hers. She tipped her jaw up, seeking to reach him, and her hair caught on the board.
“Be still,” he murmured. “It will all be over soon.”
Again, her skin was swept by chills. His hands drifted, hovering along her skin, down her arms, along the sides of her chest, caressing the curve of her waist, then grasped the board above her hips. His legs spread, sliding until he straddled her, pushing himself upright to sit on her clenched thighs.
She opened her eyes.
His hair was tousled all around his stark face. His erection stood straight out from his groin, angling into the night air. Resting his weight on one arm, he took himself and bent his tip down, wedging it into the slit at her center. Her gaze rose to his.
“Shhh, lady. Easy, now,” he whispered as he shifted his hips then arched his back.
The head of him tunneled down over her clit, sank farther through her folds, and then found her entrance. With a twist that outlined a magnificent washboard abdomen, he stretched her enough to fit the tip of him inside her. Her mouth went slack.
He set one hand on each of her breasts. “Shall we ride?” His fingers took each nipple, light and gentle.
Then he swung his legs forward, ass sinking tight to her thighs. This made his tip pull at the mouth of her, stretching the soft skin. Next he pressed his hips down while his legs swung back, sending his cock swirling slightly deeper in her core. She made some sort of garbled squeak-moan. Then he pinched her nipples. She choked.
“Steady now.”
He began a rhythm, swinging his body forward and back, his long legs powering a pendulum that worked a tight secret in her very center. Her breasts gathered and flattened, twisted and lifted, she stared at the stars, awash in the strange, full-body rocking motion. Everything was magnified by the surge and fall of the board lifting them to the slow rhythm he set.
“Ready to canter?” He swung his legs back up onto the board, hooking his feet over her shins. His hips lifted, and he slid from her core only to be caught in the hood of her flesh below her mound.
At first she thought it was a mistake, but he swirled his hips and her heart flipped over as she found he was now pressed directly to her clit. He began to bounce in short, hard thrusts, the rebound of the board beneath them forcing an exact rhythm. Many times she wanted to move faster, but she was trapped, glued to the board, pinned beneath his strength.
Just when her body had become so taut she could not bear it any longer, he moaned, long and low, the sound trailing off into a growl. Wetness oozed up over her belly and slid down the outside of her hips, gathered under her ass. She’d thought she’d explode from the tension but she didn’t. Not at all. She melted. Her body collapsed inward, waving like a flag in a languid summer breeze, floating on the flexible board beneath her, the pleasure sliding with endless heat.
When it ended, she opened her eyes. She had to blink a few times to bring him into focus. He straddled her, upright, legs dangling, at ease. She had the urge to neigh.
He grinned, wide and brash. “Good ride?”
She could only nod.
He leaned down and nuzzled her. “Thank you for indulging me when I could tell the diving board made you uneasy. Let’s do something for you now.”
Biting her lip, she was nothing but grateful he was with her tonight. She swallowed, flexing her stinging ass. “Uh . . . I haven’t had time to grow creative. Sex doesn’t need to be fancy to interest me.”
He shrugged. “Sex is new every time you have a new partner, if you pay attention.”
The one piece of her heart that hadn’t melted with her molten orgasm crumpled into goo.
With insane grace he tucked his legs up onto the board and stood, held out his hand. She sat forward, stiff and awkward, to take it. He pulled her to her feet and turned her. They walked back to the deck, down the short flight of stairs.
His thumbs swept her knuckles. “I don’t want our night to end. Anything you like. Share your dreams with me. I am not embarrassed by pleasures the flesh gives. Tell me.”
Looking up into his exotic face, she did.
“I think I’ll head north.” She sent her hands into his wet hair and attacked his throat as if she were the vampire. “Delicious.”
He wiggled his fingers inside her. “You’re heating up my hunter, lovely Charlotte. So naughty.” Angling his head back, he traced her spine with his free hand.
She’d heard the phrase “electric touch” before, but now she knew what it meant. Her outer muscles trembled, while her internal ones clenched. And his words made her insane. She’d had only two limp, brief dates, and never anything like this sexual revelation.
Lips stroking and tongue sliding, she ate across his shoulders, discovering just how erotic a man’s collarbone could be. It reminded her of a seam allowing access inside his armor, into the muscle of his torso, and she wanted to get through it.
His fingers twisted and drove inside her, his hand palming her ass to squeeze. The break in her concentration drove her nuts. Every movement of his distracted her from her own explorations. The sound of surf beat at her. Perhaps it was her heart?
“Stop.”
He paused. Chuckling in her ear, he breathed, “Really?”
“You egomaniac,” she laughed, “I can’t think with you touching me like that.” Sliding her hands all over his furred chest, she pushed back from him, and his hands slid free. Her mind cleared a bit. “I can’t take it. I need a break.”
His smile was condescending. “You’ll end up taking much more if we don’t take a break.”
A nervous thrill shimmered through her. “Back up.” Her gaze caught on the railing running down the middle of the staircase behind him. “Let’s go to the stairs.”
He sighed with dramatic dejection. “Stairs are uncomfortable. Can’t you trust my strength?”
She stepped out toward the stairs, pausing at the base of the railing. Moonlight cleared the edge of the umbrella he’d set up for her modesty. Her body fired with energy, her palms itching wildly. The inner surf roared into her consciousness, voracious. “Come to the stairs.”
He jerked, moaning. “It’s so hot when you order me around. Methinks you don’t know your own power, Miss Wisp.” He strode through the water. It fell shallower with every step, his honed body revealed until his ridged abdomen cleared the surface. He turned to face her at the bottom of the steps, the water riding him mid-thigh.
Licking her lips, she stepped up against his body, loving the way her breasts and tummy brushed him, so round and different and female. Hands gliding down his shoulders, she shackled his wrists and pushed them gently behind him. “Take the railing.”
His arms flexed, reaching, and she felt him take it. He smiled down at her, dark eyes twinkling, mouth much less playful. She leaned into him, drank in the moonlight, soaked up the water, stared into those glittering eyes, and spoke for all her repressed desires. “Don’t let go.”
He was hers. She was the queen here, the owner of this plot of water and this moment of moonlight.
He grunted softly, his jaw sagging just enough to part his lips. Pleased she was free to explore without distractions, she returned to his collarbone. From the hollow where it threaded down into his shoulder to where it changed just below his throat, she roamed the taut skin.
Distantly, she squirmed inside, shocked at his genitals brushing her heated skin. But she wasn’t simply Charlotte here. Now she was a woman, the gender with all the power. The beautiful man who captivated the crowd back at the bar was hers, her first sexual conquest. Her teeth slid along the bone, her lips played with the
very beginning of his pelt. Her fingers soon discovered his nipples.
“You’re mine tonight, vampire. You thought you wanted to seduce me. You were curious and unafraid. But I am, too. I am in no mood to be led. How about you trust my strength, hmmm?”
With his soft exhale, she knew her words and touch excited him, so she kissed lower and flayed the tiny bumps with her tongue, feeling tender at how delicate they were compared to hers. Breathing hard, she backed away, staring at his erection and dangling scrotum, all beautifully lit by the pool’s teal lights.
That was a little daunting to approach, so she waded around him, up a step, and slid in behind, leaning over one shoulder. She licked up his corded neck, claimed the hollow behind his ear. Remembering his trick, she nibbled along his ear and nipped his earlobe hard. Power welled up in her. She sucked the soft ball of flesh, rubbing with her tongue to soothe. Her hands skated over his chest and shoulders, discovering a man’s body.
He groaned deeper. The moonlight on her head was like sunshine. Threading her fingers through his cool, wet hair, she clenched her fist, drawing his muscled throat up. Deep, dark eyes full of eager passion stared at her. His lashes were lovely, and he had tiny lines at the corners.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Two hundred and eighty-nine. How old are you?” he asked back just as breathlessly.
She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Tightening her grip, she pulled his neck even farther. “Old enough to have you. To fuck you.” The hard word sizzled from her mouth and into her blood.
Fangs gleamed in his mouth. She stared down at his lips and those four indelibly alien teeth. “Does it hurt? Do you kill when you feed?”
He licked his lips. “It hurts if I don’t use my magic. Feeding just takes a sip.”
She lowered her head. Stopped, studied those fangs. Then she closed the distance and kissed him.
Moaning, he turned his head away, dragging at her hold on his hair. “Let me get control. Your moon magic is pulling at mine. It is not safe to kiss.”
