11
Tremors vibrated through my body as a narrow, tubular jet of water created a perfect arch across the glassy surface. I sucked in a breath, then willed the liquid to flatten, changing its shape until it resembled a dainty bridge.
Impossible.
It was impossible, and yet every thing I thought of took form before my eyes.
Tentatively, I extended my hand towards the translucent construction. My fingers dipped through it with minimal resistance, but the structure still held. Almost as if I were immaterial, nothing more than a ghost passing through solid walls.
I furrowed my brow and directed the stream to coil around my wrist like a spiral bracelet. For a second, the water wavered, then a cool sensation lay upon my sun-warmed skin, the liquid reshaping itself into an elegant decoration that spanned from wrist to elbow. With a new flutter of my magic pulsing from my core, I morphed it into a lacy glove, then slowly let it slip down, allowing it to join with the main body of water once more.
When the trickle died down to mere isolated droplets, I focused on a single bead. I captured its tear-shaped form in my mind, tugged on the lively, ethereal connection I shared with it until I could feel its very resonance coursing through my veins. The droplet didn’t even stir as I held it in place, suspended between the tip of my finger and the glimmering surface of the lake.
A laugh bubbled from my lips. There were no words in this world to do justice to what I was feeling, to describe how the intimate bond, flowing between me and the atoms fulfilled me as they responded to my every wish.
I wasn’t some higher force, imposing my will on nature like I had initially believed. It was more as if the surrounding water was a part of me as much as I was a part of it. Symbiosis. Harmony. I didn’t know how to name this unusual state, yet I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that this affinity was something sacred. A joining of two halves that belonged together… And had been separated for long enough already.
I understood now that the call of the sea I’d felt day after day as I wandered around Piran hadn’t been one-sided.
Those waves had bore more than mere whispers of a natural habitat, calling to the mermaid within. No, it wasn’t only my own needs and desires that had clawed at my insides until I thought I would crumble from the pain. The water, the tide—it longed for my presence, too.
As I let the droplet fall, I focused my thoughts, as well as my senses, on the spreading ripples. Gradually, I entwined more of my magic with the waves, lifting them higher and transforming them into shapely slabs that reminded me of the stripped bones of half-constructed buildings. Foundations of something that had yet to grow.
More and more water flowed into the walls from below, pushing them closer to the vivid blue of the sky, until I could hardly discern where one ended and the other began. Then, slowly and with tightly controlled thoughts, I shaped my magic into an artist’s brush, painting what I wished to see.
Elegant columns lined the edges and broke the flat surface of the walls, windows with billowing curtains nestled in the empty spaces. They were framed with shimmering flowers that snaked along the intricate vines, a few of them even coiling across the windowsills, all of it creating a sight straight out of a fairy tale.
The roofs manifested next. Elegant and sharp, the varied angles reminded me of the house my grandfather had built in his desire to recreate some of the quickly disappearing old world appeal within the heart of an ever growing, ever evolving city. He had succeeded.
And so did I.
I drifted a little farther away, water sloshing at the small of my back and licking at my navel as I searched for that perfect spot to admire the crystalline palace now standing proudly before me. Fragmented swashes of blue, brown, and green shone through its translucent form, almost as if the forest itself were embedded in the watery walls, liquid and solid matter merged into one.
With a laugh, I sent a ripple up one of the columns, scattering the colors and watching them flicker like embers before settling down once more.
Only it wasn’t the subsiding swirl of greens that made my breath catch in my throat. It was the single slash of silver, breaking up the harmonious, earthly tones.
The palace collapsed, soaking my nearly dry hair and weighing down the lilac strands. Instinctively, I batted my wet eyelashes to blink past the water even when my mermaid biology made sure such occurrences could never hinder my sight.
But I did it again. And again. Perhaps in some futile hope that the man standing on the shore would prove to be no more than an apparition if I simply kept blinking for long enough.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Santino said, still perfectly immobile, as if he were afraid of scaring me away.
Not that I could blame him. I hadn’t as much as breathed since I realized it truly was him, watching me with those silver-blue eyes. Only my tail moved, keeping me above the surface from the waist up.
Oh…
Heat flooded my cheeks when the implications of that last thought sank in.
Quickly, I lowered myself deeper into the lake’s embrace, willing the currents to guide my drenched hair so that the lilac strands were now draped over my exposed breasts, covering the tight nipples.
Santino didn’t comment on my sudden dip—or the blush he undoubtedly saw blooming on my face. He simply tugged at his shirt and pulled it over his head in a single, smooth move. He let it fall to the ground with a carelessness that left my lips dry, then guided his hand down to the button on his slacks.
I sucked in a breath, unable to avert my gaze from the tantalizing dance of his long, elegant fingers as they slid free the button before pulling down on the zipper and revealing the thick curl of silver hair crowning his growing erection.
My cheeks burned, but I still couldn’t stop my blatant staring. Santino paid me no heed as he kicked off his loafers and hooked his fingers behind the waist of his pants. Then, slowly, tauntingly, peeled them off to expose his chiseled, beautifully sun-kissed skin. With no boxers in sight, there was nothing to impede my view of his hard, thick masculinity.
And the knowing, satisfied smile he gave me when I finally lifted my gaze—the smile that reached all the way to his eyes—was the most inviting thing I’d ever seen, leaving me speechless and aching.
Everything—everything he would do to me was etched in that liquid silver that bled into the striking pale blue. Every kiss. Every long, slow flick of his tongue. Every moan he would coax out of my depths as he delved into my core.
If only I said yes.
My lips were parched, my voice gone someplace I had no hope of retrieving it from, and the little ripples of water brushing against my breasts suddenly seemed like a living extension of Santino’s erotic aura.
I didn’t know whether to rush towards him or flee to the depths of the lake. So I did neither.
I only watched the flex of his muscles as he waded into the water, feeling his presence, his hunger through every current snaking my way. It wrapped around me, keeping me immobile, waiting—perhaps even wishing that he would make good on the silent, heated promise.
He swam towards me with the kind of grace that spoke of just how utterly in control he was of his body, the movement elegant, masculine in a way I’d never thought such a simple task could be. And yet as I observed him, as my own desire spread through my flesh, enflaming every nerve, every cell, every thought, I remembered—
In the embrace of water, I was a predator. And he was my prey.
The truth slammed into me with such force that by the time Santino reached me, hovering within reach but not touching, my fear for him rivaled the carnal longing rushing through my veins. I focused on keeping my magic from permeating my voice, reeling it inside until the lake around me stilled, no longer bound to me, but a separate entity in which I reigned.
Santino noticed the change. His gaze swept across the reflective surface, then fell back on me, warm and unafraid.
“You don’t have to do that, piccola,” he whispered, swimming cl
oser despite my silent protest. “You wouldn’t hurt me. So don’t hide who you are. Please.”
I shook my head, biting my lip when the heat rolling off his body brushed against mine. The droplets that made their way languidly down the line of his neck glistened in invitation and, more than anything, I wanted to press my lips to his pulse. To trace the alluring curve leading to his shoulder and caress the sun-kissed skin as he wrapped me in his arms—
“Did you know?” I asked instead.
A smile touched his lips. Light. Loving. “No, I did not.”
“Then how can you be so certain I’ll be able to control this power?” My voice threatened to break, from the changes I was still only starting to uncover. From my desire for him—so misguided and inappropriate, yet real. Stronger than anything I’d ever felt. Even the pull of the water.
But even if I somehow managed to forget about the differences between us, even if I succeeded in pushing beyond the knowledge that I was a hunter, I couldn’t change the fact that in my very nature, I was still designed to seduce—and ultimately kill. As a mermaid, my voice might not be lethal unless I wished it, but I didn’t know about the rest of it…
Santino’s knuckles brushed against my cheek. “I saw you, Liana. What you did… It wasn’t malevolence, but a thing of beauty.”
His other hand snaked around my back, drawing me to him. I looked up into those silver-blue eyes, slowly taking his weight to keep us afloat, then ran my fingers down his honed chest.
Keeping us apart. Keeping us together.
Gods, I wished he was right. That there was more to my existence than the velvet call of death.
My kiss hadn’t harmed him before—perhaps…perhaps fate would be kind. Just this once.
“The Rusalkas taught you to hunt,” he breathed onto my lips. “They taught you to kill. But patterns can be broken, cara. It is only you who has the power to decide who you want to be. A killer”—his lips touched the corners of mine—“or a lover.”
A weak, barely audible moan spilled between us, filled with such yearning that surprise swept through me as I realized it had come from me. But I didn’t have time to dwell on my body’s treacherous admission, because in that very moment, Santino crushed me to his chest and slanted his mouth over mine.
I opened up for him, my arms curving around his back to hold him even closer as his tongue tangled with mine, the soft press of his lips so at odds with the wild exploration. With one hand kept firmly on my back, Santino guided the other lower, following the curve of my spine until he reached the first of my scales.
I gasped into his kiss.
Nobody had ever touched my tail. Not like this. Not with such care and adoration that I felt the pulse of his energy spreading across my scales all the way to the fluke, doing things to me I had never thought possible. My mind screamed to lead us to shore, to let this man take me as I’d wanted him to from that windy morning when we’d first spoken at the cafe. But my body had different ideas.
And it refused to yield to my command. Only his.
The touch of Santino’s fingers exploring the smooth surface of my scales sent a storm of sensations rushing through me, a tightness that built low in my core, coaxing moan after moan to spill from my lips and onto his. He groaned as I rubbed my breasts against him, as I slid my hand down the side of his honed torso, hesitating only for a moment on his hips before slipping it between the press of our bodies to wrap my fingers around the hard length of his arousal.
I guided my hand from the base to the very tip, all the while marveling as he quivered with every inch of velvet skin I caressed. Marveling that it was me he reacted to, not the seductive song of magic.
His pleasure enveloped me, my own rising to meet his and as his fingers dug into my scales, I pulled away from his kiss just enough to see the hunger blazing in his now perfectly silver eyes—to see it etched in the handsome angles and planes of his face. With each stroke, I increased the pressure, building it up in tune with my own need. He overflowed in my hand, growing even harder, thicker, the sheer sensation of how he responded to my touch nearly obliterating my own control.
Santino let out a carnal growl that blasted through the serenity of the nature and spun me around. He molded my back to him and kept me still, captured with one arm across my stomach so that I could feel the press of his erection against my scales. My mind swam from the explosion of pleasure, every thought shattering until I believed reality, too, would fall under the spell of his lust.
And when he touched his lips to my neck, when his fingers encircled one aching nipple, and then the next, reality did collapse.
I writhed and moaned, grinding myself against him as he kneaded my breasts, his mouth working relentlessly on my neck in a dangerous combination of tongue and teeth. Waves lapped towards the sky around us, my magic leaking out and spreading through the water, echoing the thunderstorm rolling within me, yet never touching Santino. Never dispelling the grip he had on me—or the rapture he caused.
“Ti voglio, Liana,” he breathed in my ear, voice hoarse and low and so devastatingly sensual all I could do was moan in agreement. “I want you, cara. Now.”
12
The lake itself seemed to take us to shore.
One moment, we were hidden among the rolling waves, the next I was in Santino’s arms as he lifted me from the water and carried me all the way to the gently curving edge of the woods. The plush bed of brilliant green grass pressed against my back, my scales, yet for all the pleasant sensation it offered, my body was attuned to one person only.
I smiled up at Santino, at the intensity of his gaze and the alluring twist of his mouth, as if caught between a whisper and a growl. Heat flooding through me, I raised an eyebrow in silent invitation.
He accepted without delay.
He straddled my hips, exposing my tail to the drying caresses of the sunlight and brought his mouth down to my breasts. I writhed as his tongue caressed one nipple and then the other, the urge to feel him sending fire to course through my veins. But when I shifted beneath him to take his exquisite length into my hand, Santino simply trapped my arms. He raised them above my head, keeping me immobile for him to pleasure me as freely and as wildly as he desired.
I could feel the smile on his lips as he licked his way across my breasts once more, then sucked the aching bud between his teeth, rolling and assaulting it with the torturous flicks of his tongue until I was crazed with need. The wet strands of his hair brushed against my flushed skin, inflaming my already sensitive flesh, and when he looked up, when I saw that raw hunger etched into the breathtaking liquid silver, I couldn’t hold on any longer.
A cry tore itself from my lips, then another, the orgasm ravaging my body with the force of something kept dormant for far too long. His erection pressed against my stomach and he bit into my breast, unleashing himself upon it with such fervor, such passion, I thought I would shatter right then and there.
I writhed, twisted beneath him, but Santino’s grip on my hands and body remained unaffected. I was trapped in the cage of his sweet torture, tumbling over the edge over and over again in rapture that seemed unwilling to end.
And I didn’t want it to.
Even as my mind spun from gasping breaths, even as Santino’s name became the only word that still made sense amidst the cascades of pleasure, I wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, unraveling under his touch.
The heat of his body bathing mine was soon joined by another—the touch of magic that swirled around my tail, gracefully sweeping away the fluke and scales, changing my biology swifter than ever before. Almost as if it, too, was impatient to claim this joining.
With one final graze of his teeth, Santino freed my breast. The sudden absence of his lips was almost staggering, but the void was quickly filled as he pressed his mouth to mine and stole away my taste. Just as I did his.
The ache in my body sank lower, reaching parts my now human form allowed. Without releasing my arms or my lips, he nudged apart
my legs with one knee, then nestled himself between them to tease my folds with his steel.
And gods, it felt good. It felt as if a brilliant storm burned inside me, the electric, thunderous sensation dancing on the verge between pain and release. Between longing and fulfillment.
I wanted him. I wanted him more than I wanted anyone in my life, and for once, the thought of it didn’t scare me.
“So willing, piccola,” Santino whispered as his lips caressed my jaw, my cheek. But his smooth voice was labored, tight, as if he were fighting with every ounce of his will to tease me just a little longer. “So deliciously willing.”
And I was. Hot, liquid desire pooled between my thighs, beckoning Santino to enter me and end this torture with a long, demanding thrust.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need you, Santino. I need to feel you, now.”
With a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh, Santino let go of my arms. Kneeling between my thighs, he traced one hand down my side, then guided it across my stomach, ever lower. As his thumb reached the aching nub above my folds, he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around the thickness of his own throbbing flesh, and pleasured us both.
Gently, at first.
Then with increasing urgency.
I peered at him through eyes lidded heavily with desire, alternating between the chiseled planes of his abdomen, his sensual, half-parted lips and prominent cheekbones, and the smooth strokes of his slender fingers, traveling down the length of his hard, veined erection.
Gods, he was magnificent.
I’d never been a voyeur, but watching Santino pleasure himself, watching him pleasure me… It was intimate yet wild, carrying an edge of possession and surrender alike.
I couldn’t get enough of him. I couldn’t stop drinking in every small ripple of his muscles, the fall of his glistening, damp hair, and his labored breaths, echoing mine.
A carnal, male smile flickered across his handsome face the instant before his low growl permeated the air and he plunged two fingers inside me. I gasped as he grazed against my aching walls, exploring and claiming me with such heat in his eyes that I was helpless to do anything but moan while my entire body shivered.
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