Captive of the Deep

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Rigel sighed, gripping her hips. His fingers dug into her flesh, holding her tight. When she tried to move, he kept her flush against him. His hips moved in tiny circles, keeping his body deep. Though small, the thrusts felt good. She moaned softly, wiggling against him, encouraging his deep rhythm.

  Lyra pulled at his shoulder, rolling so he was on top of her. The position thrust him deeper still. He nipped at her neck and used his new leverage to massage a breast in his palm. His lovemaking became more aggressive. Rigel worked his hips, taking his cock in and out in a series of fluid motions. She spread her legs wide, digging her feet into the bed as she lifted to accept him.

  Lyra grabbed his hand, moving it to her sex to show him how she liked her clit rubbed. He readily obeyed. The intensity was more than she could resist. Tremors erupted low in her stomach, shaking their way over her entire body. She stiffened, gasping as she came. He braced his hands next to her. Rigel groaned, his cry of release joining hers.

  Chapter Four

  Rigel held Lyra, watching her sleep against his chest. He was exhausted and yet he could not close his eyes. She wanted him. In his world, her actions meant she wanted him for more than a lover. Lovers spoke their intent aloud. Lyra spoke no such words. And, for a moment, he had convinced himself that they were mated and she was his, forever. Then, as the aftermath of their lovemaking took hold, his mind cleared and another thought occurred to him. Though he said he accepted her, perhaps she was not actually making an offer. The customs of the surface world were by large part a mystery.

  Many were eager to hear from the new members of their society about the world above. Aidan, one of the rare males to be rescued decades before, was in charge of cataloging new artifacts and taking down data from new arrivals. With three women to interview, he was impatiently awaiting permission from their guardians. When he collected his information, he would publish his news to the whole of Ataran. Rigel studied Lyra, wondering if she would be willing to talk to the man.

  As he drew his hand over her hip, his mind wandered. He thought of Venus and how the nymph’s pleasures now paled in comparison to the real thing. The feel of Lyra’s sex was nothing like the rolling sensation of the nymph. In fact, it was wetter, better.

  He contemplated what Lyra’s world must have been like, the things she lost, the people. Then, he thought of his own losses, of the brother who went to sea and never came back. They didn’t talk about Nemus. They didn’t talk about any of those who disappeared into the ocean. Some had left in the early days, trying to find a solution, tired of being tied to Ataran. Others were hunters who did not make it home on time and were condemned to be lost. His brother had been one who left willingly in those first years. Rigel had begged him to stay, to wait, but Nemus has always been a free spirit. Every time he hunted there was a part of Rigel that searched for his long lost brother, even if he didn’t consciously think of it.

  Lyra sighed in her sleep, adjusting her body. He lifted his hand, waiting for her to settle before touching her once more. The soft skin of her back and hip mesmerized him, capturing his attention as he stroked it. He could live in this moment for an eternity, and he knew from experience just how long an eternity could be. In his time, he learned that it was not wars or peace or politics that created life, it was these moments, these small things that were often overlooked—the brush of flesh, a sigh, a flutter of Lyra’s lashes as her eyes began to open.

  For a moment she looked at him with all the sleepy wonder he felt and there was a connection. He imagined their heart beats joined and that he could feel her inside him. Could she feel him?

  “I love you.” He hadn’t meant to say the words.

  She blinked and the moment disappeared. Tears filled her eyes as she slowly shook her head in denial. “That is not possible. What you feel is gratitude, not love. When you learn the difference, you will see that lust is not love.”

  He didn’t argue. She turned her back to him as she sat on the edge of the bed. The soft light caressed her, outlining her spine as she stretched. She looked thinner than when he rescued her.

  “You haven’t been eating,” he said.

  “I eat enough.”

  “I will call for food. It is my responsibility to see to you and I—”

  Suddenly, she turned, moving to face him. “I am my own responsibility. Last night was fun and we’ll probably do it again sometime, as long as you can promise me you won’t lose perspective on what is between us. Sex is not love. Lust is not love. This is not love.”

  “I will call for food,” Rigel repeated, sitting up. Whatever spell he’d been under was broken. “You may not be hungry, but I am.”

  * * * * *

  Sometime came much sooner than Lyra planned on.

  There was something erotically fulfilling to watching Rigel’s lips suck the tiny morsels of fruit, absently pulling them into his mouth as if he had no clue as to the seductive nature of the action. Each tiny orange pearl, about the size of her clit, rolled between his large fingers before being placed between his lips, bit by his teeth and then sucked into his warm, inviting mouth.

  It was too much. Her pussy ached and her clit throbbed in jealous protest. He sucked another one and she shivered.

  “Are you enjoying that?” she asked, breathless.

  He blinked in surprise, glancing up from where he rolled a piece in his fingers. Clearly, he’d been deep in thoughts. “Would you like one?”

  Lyra found herself nodding. He lifted the plate to hand it to her. She leaned over the couch to where he sat on the far end and instead of going for the plate, she wrapped her lips around his fingers and sucked the tiny piece in. Sweet explosion erupted between her teeth as she bit. She nodded. “Mm, good. I can see why you like them.”

  Luckily, she merely slipped a dress over her naked body and her pussy was still free for exploration. She took a handful from the plate, well aware that she had his attention. Leaning back so her elbow braced the cushion, she tugged at her skirts and let one leg fall over the side of the couch. Her legs pointed at him and he watched with rapt attention as she took the tiny pearl and brought it to her pussy. She pulled the skirt with her arm, letting him see as she inserted a single piece just over her clit.

  “Have another,” she offered.

  In his haste, he knocked the plate aside. Tiny pearl fruit scattered across the floor and the dinnerware crashed into pieces. She laughed. He didn’t pause. His hands met her thighs, tugging her so he could angle his mouth just right.

  With a groan that started before he even made contact, he drew his lips to suck the fruit into his mouth. Lyra gasped at the shock of pleasure. She grabbed another one from her hand as he pulled back to study her face. She again placed it next to her clit.

  “Do it again,” she commanded more than offered.

  He did and again the brief pucker of his mouth teased her sex. When he pulled back, she had a pearl ready and instantly moved it into place.

  “Again,” she breathed hard, angling her hips up.

  This time, he didn’t pull back as far as before and she slipped yet another piece into place. Before she could command him, he sucked that one two. Lyra, unable to take the quick kisses, dropped all of them on her pussy. They rolled along her sex, some sticking to her moisture, others sliding down her thighs. He began kissing the ones that stuck to her pussy, sucking them gently as he ate.

  After he finished, he looked up expectantly. Damn those eyes. They pierced into her.

  Lyra parted her sex with her fingers, and exposed her clit. “Now eat my fruit.”

  The training worked because he moved his mouth against her clit in exactly the same way. When he would pull up, she pushed the back of his head, smothering his mouth tight against her sex. His fingers gripped her so hard they would surely leave bruises, but she didn’t care. Let him hold on to her thighs, pulling her pussy to his mouth. He moaned and sucked, concentrating on her clit.

  “Lick my juice,” she gasped. His wide tongue slid over her sl
it. “Ah, yes, like that. Lick it clean. Make sure you get all of it.” At that, his tongue slithered inside her sex. She convulsed against him. He began to lightly his touch and she dug her hands into his hair. “Don’t stop. Lick it. Get it all. Use your fingers to make sure.”

  A hand lifted from her thigh only to find her pussy. He thrust into her, wiggling around inside her as he sucked and licked. The rough texture of a wayward pearl rolled pressed between her ass cheeks. His chin must have bumped it because his hand slid down to push it away. She thrust up, forcing the wet finger to slip next to the tight rosette of her ass. She bucked at the stimulus. He took it for more invite than she intended and enthusiastically thrust a finger into her ass. The digit wiggled, moving like it has in her pussy. She felt him trying to force a second one in to join the first, but the tight squeeze prevented such a maneuver. His nose pushed up against her clit as his tongue fucked her pussy. It felt so good. She grabbed her neglected breasts and squeezed the nipples through the material.

  Her climax came in hard waves. When he didn’t stop lapping her, she was forced to push his head back. He gave her a meaningful look. “But you are still moist.”

  “Oh, trust me. That’s a good thing. I’m supposed to get wet like that. You did very well.”

  Her heart hammered. His finger slipped from her ass and she closed her eyes, moaning in pleasure. She felt his weight shift and assumed he was getting up. Then, suddenly, she felt the thick tip of his cock along her thigh. She opened her eyes to see him coming over her. His face looked determined.

  With a hard push, he thrust into her, filling her to completion. His hips moved with a frenzy, building the sensations once more. She gasped, crying out as it was almost too much pleasure. He jerked, coming inside her. Seconds later he was collapsed against her, pinning her down with his body. The weight felt comforting and she didn’t push him away. She would have been too weak to try anyway.

  .

  * * * * *

  “I cannot give you children.”

  Lyra blinked in momentary confusion, looking across the bed to where her lover lay on his back. She hadn’t asked about children. “All right.”

  “I thought maybe you would wonder about such a thing, being as we are,” he glanced at the bed, not finishing.

  “Bumpin’ uglies?” she supplied, only to laugh as his anticipated confusion. It was strange how everyone spoke the same language—magically, she supposed for lack of any better explanation—but sarcasm and sayings caused confusion. “Getting our freak on? Doin’ the horizontal hula?”

  “No, I speak of us being lovers,” he clarified.

  Lyra laughed. “My mistake.”

  “I thought you should know about the children. Aidan tells me this is a concern surface women have with their lovers.” He closed his eyes and she took the opportunity to study his face.

  “Were you in an accident? Or sick when you were a child?” she asked.

  “In Ataran, the odds of you conceiving a child are poor,” he answered, not opening his eyes. “Should you conceive, it’s highly unlikely you will carry the child to its birth and even less likely that it will live beyond that point. It is part of our curse.”

  Lyra didn’t know how to answer, but she did feel disappointment. She had never really thought of children, had always assumed that there would be time, someday, with someone. And, if she didn’t have children, her brothers would eventually. The family bloodline would continue. They would have giant Christmas celebrations and Thanksgivings, surrounded by the next generation. But that was before the shipwreck.

  “I’m tired,” she said, turning around to put her back to him. She closed her eyes tight, refusing to cry yet again.

  Chapter Five

  Lyra left Rigel asleep in his room. She didn’t imagine that, after the day she had given him, he would be awake for many more hours. The palace was quite in the late hour, the halls dim and cast with the stillness only a sleeping residence could give off. She wandered the halls, not seeing anyone as she absently examined the décor.

  Not knowing where she was going and assuming that if she strayed too far someone would stop her and turn her around, she ventured down yet another passageway. The hall narrowed and curved, heading downward on an incline. She frowned in concern, but did not stop her progress. The bright colors of the palace faded into what could only be described as the gray melancholy of a medieval dungeon. This was not a part of the palace the king would want her seeing. So, to her thinking, it was all the more reason for her to go. What secrets were the Merr people hiding beneath their shiny surface?

  A loud, screeching noise resounded from the distance. She jumped in alarm, pulling back against the wall as if it could hide her. She listened, waiting. The screech sounded again, but no one came to investigate the sound. Her heart beat at a fast pace, as she inched further downward. Fear gripped her limbs and fluttered in her stomach.

  She came to a door and heard people scrambling inside. Metal scraped. The screeching grew louder, followed by a series of loud thuds.

  “We’re losing it!” a man yelled.

  “Stop it! Don’t let it loose!” a woman answered.

  “It’s not going to make it. The injection’s not working,” yet another male exclaimed. “There is nothing we can do but get out of his way until he’s dead.”

  “We can’t leave him,” the woman protested. “Not like this.”

  “Don’t let him touch you. They’re not Merr anymore,” a third man said. “They didn’t make the transformation into human form. We’ve done all we could. We should concentrate on a new formula for the others.”

  “They didn’t sign up for this,” the woman insisted. “We have to try.”

  “One more word and I’ll have you removed from the project.” Again, the first voice. The man in charge perhaps?

  The screeching became more insistent. Lyra hazarded a peek into the narrow slit of a window to see what they were talking about. A nearly translucent creature thrashed against iron chains and bars. If not for the watery look of his skin, she would have guessed the creature was half merman, half human. Were they trying to turn it back into human? She’d heard people refer to the “curse” of being under the ocean. Were they experimenting on the poor guy? Did Rigel know about this? It wasn’t like anyone stopped her from coming down into the prison. Surely he had to know. The whole palace probably knew.

  Perhaps this is the real reason humans were brought down. They were test subjects for genetic experiments. The whole population clearly wanted out of the water and they were using humans to do it. Who else was down here? Her brothers? Her father? Or did they want more Merr to populate the underwater world? Rigel said they couldn’t have children. Were they trying to turn humans into Merr and back again?

  Almost desperate, she ran to the next door and peeked in. A translucent figure lay on a low bed, unmoving. He didn’t look familiar. She hurried to the next one and the next, finding them both empty.

  After her search revealed nothing more, she went back to the first door. The creature was convulsing on the floor while his captors watched in silence. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the genetic experiment was dying.

  Lyra couldn’t let them know she’d seen what they were doing, and yet she couldn’t pull away. The creature shook harder. It’s skin seeming to melt off its translucent body. It pooled around it on the floor like water melting off an ice cube.

  Shaking, she backed away from the door before running several paces back up to the beautiful section of the palace. She kept glancing over her shoulder as she rushed through the halls in search of something familiar.

  * * * * *

  Rigel awoke with a smile on his face. It remained intact while he crawled out of bed and slipped on clean clothes. Hope filled him. He knew what Lyra said about being his lover and nothing more, but he couldn’t imagine that the pleasure they felt in each others’ arms could be easily dismissed. Surely she would change her mind, would warm up to the idea of an etern
ity with him.

  His optimism lasted while he searched his home, but as he looked for the third time into the shower to see if she was hiding in there, his hope turned to worry. She was nowhere to be found. His eyes turned to the door. It wasn’t like he locked it. Lyra wasn’t a prisoner, yet she had never left his home without his escort before.

  Though he knew he should not worry, he could not help it. Where had she gone? Why?

  He thought of her outside the city walls. She had run there before. No one would stop her. What if she tried to go to the forest and the Olympians captured her? The surface wasn’t the only danger the Merr faced. The Olympians, as they called themselves after the gods of Mt. Olympus, didn’t want the humans brought to Ataran for they looked at the Merr curse as a blessing. They believed themselves to be goddesses below the waves, blessed with immortality and power. Before the caves leading into the abyss were sealed and all were allowed to roam the ocean freely, the Olympians had been caught luring humans to their deaths for sick pleasure. It had been a rough time for the Merr people. Loyalties had been divided. Some to this day still blamed the Olympians for the Merr curse lasting so long without reprieve. There were those, who still believed that one day Poseidon would come down and forgive them, lifting them up into the sunlight once more. Rigel liked to believe the latter.

  If not the forest, what if she headed north toward the mountains? There was no threat of Olympians in the mountains, but the terrain was rough. She could get lost or hurt.

  Rigel didn’t think, just acted. Once the fear took hold, he couldn’t reason. If she was his wife, he’d be able to sense her in ways a lover couldn’t. He would hear her thoughts and feel her presence. But she wasn’t his wife and when he reached his senses out to her, nothing answered the call.