The Curse of the Sea

Home > Fantasy > The Curse of the Sea > Page 6
The Curse of the Sea Page 6

by A. K. Koonce


  She closes her eyes for a moment, the glass still held in her small hand. White moonlight bathes her smooth creamy skin. Soft black hair frames her angelic face.

  God, she’s beautiful.

  “One more.”

  I cock a brow at her.

  “The thing is, there is no more, Wren. Lie down. You’ll feel better.”

  “My throat’s just so dry, Cason.” Her full lips form the most perfect pout I’ve ever seen. Her fingers lace through mine, her touch tingling across my skin. “Will you run to the well and get me just a little more?” My eyes search the darkness, considering how far out the well is.

  Fuck, is she serious right now?

  “Please. I need a drink and I want you close tonight Say you’ll stay with me tonight? Please, Cason.” My name breathy on her lips seals it. It’s a done deal. The fucking well could be on another continent and I’d be packing my bags to row across the ocean just to get this woman a third fucking glass of water.

  “Yeah, of course.” I’m nodding like an idiot but I can’t stop.

  I lean down and place a kiss to her temple and just as I’m about to turn away, she sits up and wraps her arms around my shoulders. Her lips press sloppily against mine and she hums a sound that sounds suspiciously like a moan.

  Without hesitating, my fingers skim down her sides, clenching onto her thin waist. My heart pounds against hers. She pulls back, but her glittering eyes hold mine as she stares up at me, less than an inch separating us.

  “Hurry back,” she says in a rasping voice.

  My mouth opens but not a single thought rolls around in my mind.

  Once again, I nod adamantly before jogging to the balcony and swinging my leg over the edge. I’m almost halfway down when I realize I forgot the pitcher.

  I huff a sigh of annoyance and drag my ass back up the thin lattice that’s groaning to support my weight. As I make my way to the well with the pitcher, it dawns on me I’ll have to somehow make it back up the lattice with a pitcher of water …

  Fucking woman and her drunken lust.

  Thirty minutes later, my shirts soaked and I’m bringing her what is probably only a quarter of a cup of water.

  I pour it quickly into her glass, set it on her bedside table, kick off my pants and slip beneath the inviting blankets.

  The darkness of the night surrounds us. Her heavy snores are the only thanks I receive.

  My head falls back tiredly against the over-stuffed pillow.

  I cannot believe I just did all that for a woman.

  She turns from her back, coiling into me, her hand slipping against my lower stomach as she latches on to me. Her head rests peacefully in the nook of my arm. Warmth seeps into me as I wrap my arm around her. She fits perfectly against my body.

  It might have been worth it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Just the Three of Us

  Wren

  Cormac dives into the calm ocean, crashing beneath the surface. I lean over the dock, peering into the clear water that shows only my own rippling reflection.

  He said he wanted me to relax a little today before I go back to the castle. Before the wedding. My stomach turns with the thought of the simple word.

  Today I won’t think of it though.

  I like that we both relax the most when we’re near the ocean. The sea does something amazing to me even in the dropping temperature. All the stress falls away when I’m here.

  Seconds tick by, waves calculate the time with every lap of water that reaches into the shore before dragging back out. Finally Cormac comes up, his upper body streaming with water. His hair hides his eyes before he pushes it roughly back, a perfect smile stretching across his soft features.

  “You coming in, Princess?”

  My heart storms in my chest. The splintered wood scrapes against my bare feet as I teeter on the edge of the dock, hugging my dress to me as I kneel down.

  The cold water greets my toes as I slip my feet into the ocean. Cormac glides over to me, his gaze raking across my calves, my knees, before trailing up my wrinkled gown and meeting my eyes.

  His warm hands wrap around my ankles. Slowly, he slides his palms up my calves. Cool water trails down my legs as he grips my thighs and I lean into him. The ocean greets my body. He supports me with ease, his muscles tensing beneath my touch as he intentionally drags my body down his and lowers me into the sea.

  His tongue sneaks out and steals the water against his upper lip and I force myself not to stare at his mouth.

  The pounding of his heart is felt against my ribs as I breathe hard against his chest. My eyes fall to the water as movement catches my eye.

  His smooth tail sways leisurely. It’s beautiful really. Light skims through the fin. Lines of silver splay through the ends.

  He smiles when he notices me staring and slowly his fin brushes across my calves in a playful way. A tingle spirals through my body as he wraps himself around me, holding me low at the small of my back with one hand, while his other pushes a dark lock of hair from my face.

  “Can I touch it?” I ask, still watching his tail glide up my thigh.

  He coughs out a laugh that shakes through his body, a dimple creasing his cheek.

  My face blooms red the moment I realize what he’s thinking.

  “I meant—”

  “I know, Princess.”

  The end of his tail wafts around my thighs, tingling through my body. With a delicate touch I run my fingertips along the side of it. It feels more solid than it looks. My index finger traces across the slick span of it.

  Clear water ascends around us, circling with magic in thin air. It twists, making spiraling designs around our bodies. A beautifully unnatural waterfall surrounds us.

  Cason’s shown me his power. Cormac isn’t shy with his.

  Cohen has never once revealed anything like this to me.

  Perhaps he’s normal. Just a regular, simple merman. Is there such a thing. A normal merman?

  I refuse to believe Cohen’s not special. He just isn’t as self-confident as Cormac or as open as Cason. I make a mental note to demand Cohen show me his gift from the sea.

  My mind swirls with magical possibilities such as the beautiful waterfall Cormac’s creating. Cormac never takes his eyes off me. I run my palm through the turning water, knowing he’s controlling the elements just for my own amusement.

  It’s amazing. He’s amazing.

  His head dips low, his hair raining cold droplets of water across my cheek. Carefully, his damp lips brush mine, stealing a gasp from my lungs.

  My hands push up his lean chest, water clinging to the crevices of his tan body. Tightly, my hands clasp around his neck as he supports my weight. He parts my lips with his eager tongue and pushes his palms low down my back, my saturated gown meeting his touch.

  The feeling is strange but in the best possible way. The cold of the ocean mixed with my heated emotions. The warmth of the setting sun beating across my shivering body. Cormac’s full lips against mine.

  I arch my back into him, pushing my chest against his, searching for as much skin to skin contact as possible.

  He bites my lower lip and I moan against his mouth.

  “We—“ He clears his throat, his chest rising and falling hard against mine. “We should head back.”

  “Why?” I almost pout, my thighs clenching as I squirm against him.

  A dimple creases his left cheek as he gives me a wicked smile.

  “As much fun as this is, I feel fucking useless from the waist down. I like kissing you.” He presses another agonizingly slow kiss against my lips before pulling back a fraction of an inch. “But this is torture for me.”

  ***

  Cormac’s wet body leans against mine, his weight settling perfectly against me. He pinned me against my bedroom door the moment we came inside. The door groans in protest but I’m oblivious to anything other than the way his body feels.

  His hand rests just above my head, caging me in as he leans into
the door. The corner of his perfect mouth quirks up just before he seals his lips fervently against mine. Our tongues meet in a frantic and anticipating way. His hips press into mine, his bulge hard against my lower stomach.

  When my hips shift slightly against him, he groans, a rumbling feeling that spirals all the way through my core.

  His warm hand leaves my hip and I hear him fumble with the brass doorknob for a few seconds before it swings open behind me. I lose my footing but his palm grips my waist and holds me strongly to him.

  The two of us stumble into the dark room.

  “Shit,” a voice in the shadows says and I pull back from Cormac. My hands rest against his heaving chest.

  We both turn toward the voice and find Cohen standing near my open balcony.

  His mouth is open but nothing comes out. I step back from Cormac, his hands falling slowly away from me. I feel instantly cold without his body warming mine.

  Nervously, I smooth my drenched gown, as if I can cling to some form of respect in this embarrassing moment.

  “Sorry, I …” Cohen raises his hands as if that’s all the explanation he has. “I’m going to go. It can wait until tomorrow.” He claps his hands together. I’ve never seen him look unsure of himself before.

  Maybe it’s one thing for them all to be comfortable with the relationship we have but it might be something entirely different to see it stumbling in with grinding hips right in front of your face.

  “No, it’s fine.” I cross the room and slip my hand in his. His palm is hot against mine, calloused and rough. His large hand fits perfectly in mine. “Please don’t go.”

  He’s been avoiding me since the last time we met. My stomach twists with fear that he’ll leave again.

  Dark eyes search mine. He looks weak. Unsure of himself. Of us. Of his life.

  I slip my hand up his neck, his coarse stubble stinging my palm.

  I just want to take away that look in his eyes.

  But I don’t know how.

  My wet boots shift beneath me as I stretch on the tips of my shoes to reach his height. I keep my eyes locked with his as I press a careful kiss against his lips. Warm hands grip my hips tightly, holding me at arm's length. His tongue slips over mine as my eyes flutter closed. I feel it the moment the stress falls from his shoulders and he melds into me.

  Quiet footsteps cross the room.

  A gentle kiss is pressed to the top of my soaked hair.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Princess,” Cormac says in a whisper. He brushes against my back as my hand darts out and grabs his forearm.

  I pull back from Cohen, holding Cormac’s heated gaze. My breath shakes, realizing I’m pressed intimately between both men. I’, unsure of what I’m even doing.

  A thundering sound takes up residence in my heart as I try to think of the right thing to do.

  Cormac looks to Cohen for a single instant before he licks his lips. He pushes my hair back with a steady hand and presses his warm mouth to the base of my neck.

  A tingling feeling turns low in my stomach as Cormac’s hands settle on my hips. My eyes slip closed, my lips parting as his hot tongue sweeps leisurely across my damp skin.

  Without warning, Cohen seals his mouth to mine, his fingers threading through my tangled hair. Cormac rakes his teeth across my flesh as he rocks his hips against me, his hands holding me tightly in place.

  My mind races but doesn’t keep up with a single intelligent thought. I’m the Princess of Aveil and right now I’d turn myself in as a traitor to the crown if it meant these two men would keep doing the wicked things they’re doing to my body.

  Cohen’s hands trail down my jaw and collar bones before settling heavily against my breasts. His large palms are hot against my skin peeking out above the top of my gown. He teases me through my dress. My fingers push against his shirt, lifting the soft cotton to feel the solid muscle beneath.

  Cormac pulls anxiously at my heavy gown until his palm is running up my cold thigh. Warm fingers blaze a trail up my leg. He slips his hand farther up, his index finger tracing my folds. He groans as his finger slides against me.

  An energy swirls low in my stomach and I start to tremble in Cohen’s arms just as Cormac slips his fingers deep inside me.

  I moan against Cohen’s lips. He pushes his hands through my hair once more, holding my head in his hands as he sucks hard on my tongue. My eyes clench closed as the feeling coils tightly in my core.

  Cormac grinds hard against me as his fingers continue to pound into me.

  I gasp against Cohen’s mouth as my back arches and the feeling low inside me combusts into a million pieces.

  Cormac presses another slow kiss against my neck before he leans his forehead against my shoulder, his body stilling behind me.

  With shaking breaths, I hide my face in Cohen’s chest. Energy still tingles through me but my mind is clearer now. It’s overactive.

  What the hell did I just do? I can never look these two in the eyes again. How could I use them like that?

  Cohen kisses my cheek.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispers, his hands slipping around my waist.

  That was wrong.

  That was very, very wrong.

  “I’m sorry.” My face flames red against his shirt.

  He tilts his head down, trying to meet my eyes. I glance up at him hesitantly.

  “That was …” Cohen searches for the right thing to say.

  “Fucking sexy,” Cormac finishes for him in a loud voice.

  A smile touches my lips as I close my eyes in embarrassment.

  “I have to go,” Cohen says, dropping his hands down to slip his fingers through mine. He takes a step back as he studies me. “Don’t be sorry, Wren.” He presses another kiss to my lips, his tongue rolling against mine, waking me up inside all over again. He pulls back just slightly. “And don’t let Cormac be an ass.”

  He kisses my temple before reluctantly walking away. He holds my gaze when he gets to the balcony. My heart thrashes, wishing he’d stay. He swings his leg over the rail and he looks to me once more before disappearing down below.

  Cormac’s warm fingers trail down the inside of my arms.

  “My heart’s beating a mile a minute. You’re running away with my heart, Princess,” he says, his lips brushing lightly against my neck as he speaks.

  “Does that scare you?”

  It scares me. It terrifies me how much I care about all three of them.

  “Not at all. I trust you with it.”

  His words bring a smirk to my lips.

  “Do you want me to go?” The tone of his voice is low and quiet. It makes me smile even more.

  He’s persistent.

  I turn to him and shake my head slowly, my cold hair brushing against my cheeks.

  My fingers are so cold they’re nearly numb as I wrap my hand around the hem of his damp shirt. He holds my gaze as he pulls it off. It drops without a sound to the floor. My fingertips brush against his abdomen and the muscles tighten beneath my touch. Neither of us speak for several seconds.

  “Wren, I’ve never felt like this before.” It’s a gravelly confession, his attention drifting to the floor. Those eyes that always hold a sense of mischief are so serious right now it’s startling. His warm hand wraps around mine. My heart soars at his words.

  I haven’t either.

  I was empty before the three of them came into my life. I might never have felt alive if we’d never met.

  Slowly he kisses me, his tongue drifting over mine. His hands slip down low against my back and he begins unlacing my dress.

  His fingers don’t tremble like mine. My nerves and the cold night air are starting to make me crazy.

  The dress becomes heavy against my frame and he pulls back from me just in time to watch it fall. The skirts pool at my feet and I’m naked before him. I bite my lip as he studies every inch of me, his light eyes dancing along my flesh.

  “I—” My voice shakes with guilt as I consider confessing t
his to him.

  He meets my eyes and his hands slip into mine.

  “What’s wrong?”

  My throat constricts and heat flames up my neck.

  “I’m not a virgin anymore, Cormac.” Part of me wants to avoid his features when I say it but a stronger part of me wants to know what he thinks of me.

  His head tilts, his lips parted.

  “Ledian?”

  I nod slowly.

  Seconds tick by without sound and only my shame to fill the silence.

  “Was … was he good to you?”

  The memory of the wall biting into my back and the way his soft lips felt against mine fill my mind.

  “Yes.” The word is spoken so quietly I’m not even sure if I said it out loud.

  He nods. Taking a step closer to me.

  “I don’t care about a status, Princess,” he whispers against my hair. “I care about you.” He kisses my lips with ease, washing away the churning guilt in my stomach. “Did you come?” he mumbles against my mouth.

  The question snaps me right out of the sensual spell he was putting me under. My eyes become wide as I pull back from him.

  “What?”

  His forehead rests against mine, his eyes assessing me like a predator.

  “Did he make you orgasm?”

  Once again my face is on fire with a blush that stings my skin.

  “I—yeah. Yeah.” I did but I’m so nervous I sound uncertain.

  He smirks against my lips but doesn’t say anything further as his tongue flicks against mine just before our lips seal.

  Then his hands are finally on me. Burning across my flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He skims his palm up my hip, across my ribs, slowly over my nipple and then grips my neck, holding me to him. He holds me to him like he’s afraid I’m not really his at all. Almost like he has something to prove.

  He walks backwards, his boots echoing a dragging sound across the floorboards as he guides me through the room.

  He turns me, my feet tripping over themselves but he carefully lowers me to the soft mattress. Once more, he kisses me before taking a step back, my chest rising and falling as I try to catch my breath. My breath is forgotten as he lowers his hands and undoes his pants. They skim down his thighs, revealing his impressive length in an instant.

 

‹ Prev