Heart of the Deep

Home > Other > Heart of the Deep > Page 20
Heart of the Deep Page 20

by Tiffany Roberts

“My choice has not changed,” he repeated. “You are my mate.” His hand moved to her stomach, and she stiffened as he slipped it beneath her shirt to touch the skin of her lower abdomen. He carefully traced her scars with the pad of a finger. “You are not broken or useless. You are mine.”

  Her throat tightened around a sob. She covered his hand, closing her fingers around it. “You’ll regret it. You’ll regret me. I can’t… I can’t give you what you want.”

  “Say that you choose me, and you will give me all I want.” He rose up behind her and placed a finger beneath her chin, gently turning her face toward him. The dim light reflected in his eyes, making them glow faintly.

  “What about—”

  “I choose you, Larkin. Say you choose me.”

  She searched his face, though it was shrouded in shadow save the amber of his eyes. Scalding tears ran over her cheeks and into her hair. Hope blossomed in her chest, almost too painful for words. Raising a hand, she cupped his face, holding his gaze.

  “I choose you,” she said softly, then more firmly. “I want you.”

  “Say that you are my mate.” The reflections in his eyes might as well have been flames for their intensity.

  She brushed her thumb over his cheek, exhaling shakily. “I’m your mate.”

  He leaned down, sliding his fingers to her hair. “I decided you would be mine while I was caged on that boat. That I would have you, whatever it took. And now that you are here, now that I have seen your bravery, your strength, your heart, I will never let you go.”

  He gently turned her onto her back and pressed his forehead to hers. “You are my mate, Larkin, and your worth is beyond measure.”

  Larkin’s heart felt as though it would burst. Dracchus had chosen her. He knew of her scars, knew she couldn’t bear him children, and still wanted her to be his.

  Moving her hand to the back of his head, she pressed her lips to his fervently. That was all it took for the barriers between them to crumble. He gathered her in his arms and held her close, slanting his mouth to deepen the kiss. She tasted the salt and the sea, tasted him, and craved more.

  “Dracchus,” she rasped, breaking the kiss to brush her cheek against his, “make love to me.”

  Dracchus clutched his mate to him, burying his face against her nape, and breathed in her scent. Her words hit him like a harpoon, tethering he and Larkin together irreversibly, finally completing the bond he’d longed for. A forever mate.

  He released her and reared back, reaching for her clothing; he needed to feel her skin against his. Larkin was faster. She grasped fistfuls of her shirt and yanked it off over her head, her motions thrusting her chest against his. He lowered his face to her breasts and captured one in his mouth, sucking the hardened peak, careful of his teeth. She moaned, hands skimming his shoulders, sending small jolts straight to the tips of his tentacles.

  Dracchus settled his hands on her sides and slid them down, tracing the curves of her hips and backside as he hooked her pants with his thumbs. He dragged the garment toward her feet, reaching up with two tentacles to finish removing it. His nostrils flared as the heady scent of her arousal permeated the air.

  He raised his head and looked upon his mate. His. Her red hair was spread around her on the bedding, with tendrils of it draped over her pale, slim shoulders. His gaze drifted down her body, over her beautiful breasts, her flat stomach, and stopped on her scars. She had suffered, but he would allow her to suffer no longer; he would do everything in his power to make her happy. Everything to make her understand that, even in her lowest moments, even when she doubted herself, he would always believe in her.

  Everything to make her understand she was the most valuable thing in his world.

  His eyes dipped to the patch of hair between her legs, already damp with her desire. Curling his fingers around the inside of her thighs, he pried her legs apart. The glistening petals of her sex opened to him.

  Dracchus groaned, clenching his teeth, and tilted his head back. His cock burst from his slit, throbbing, aching, eager to fill her. He wedged himself between her thighs, the bedding rough as coral to the oversensitive skin of his shaft.

  “Oh, wow,” Larkin breathed.

  He looked up to see her propped on her elbows, peering down the length of her body, her wide eyes locked on his cock.

  “So that’s where it’s been? How the hell did it fit in there?”

  “Female, now is not the time for such questions,” he growled with a smirk.

  “I think now is definitely the time. And what are those…those things?” She leaned forward, extending an arm, and brushed her finger along one of the feelers at the base of his shaft.

  Dracchus shuddered as pleasure flowed through him. He placed a hand on her shoulder and forced her back onto the bed, looming over her. The head of his cock slid between the wet folds of her sex. He gritted his teeth. It took every bit of his willpower to avoid thrusting against her.

  “You will find out soon enough,” he said, voice strained.

  Larkin opened her mouth as though to ask another question, but he silenced her with a kiss. She moaned into his mouth, matching the caress of lips and tongue, and undulated her hips to glide her sex over his shaft. Tearing his mouth from hers, he hissed through his teeth and clawed at the bedding. He took hold of her hip with one hand and pinned her to the bed.

  “Not yet.” He lifted his torso and slid his pelvis back, breaking the contact between his cock and her sex. He needed to be inside her, but she wasn’t ready to receive him.

  He smoothed his palms along her inner thighs, spreading them wide, and wrapped a tentacle around each of her calves. He lowered his face, stopping just before her sex, and looked up. Larkin watched him intently, her eyes hooded with desire. She shivered when he exhaled. He didn’t look away as he dipped his head, took in her scent, and slid his tongue over her silken folds.

  She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and released a throaty sigh as her fingers clutched at the sheets.

  Fierce need swept through him. Her reactions drove him to give her more, to learn every sensitive point on her body and discover how best to touch them, how to caress them, how to worship her. His cock ached, and he forced it against the bed to alleviate some of the pressure.

  His tongue explored her; it delved between her folds, dipped into her channel, and teasingly flicked the small nub that seemed to send her into a frenzy. He drank from her, unable to get enough of his mate’s unique taste. It was his, and his alone.

  “Dracchus,” she breathed, cupping her breasts and kneading them as her hips rocked against his mouth.

  The sight of Larkin touching herself sent his desire to new heights. His seed seeped from the tip of his cock.

  He clenched a fist, ignoring the bite of his claws into his skin.

  Not yet.

  “I’m so close,” she moaned.

  Dracchus closed his lips around her nub, sucked it into his mouth, and growled. Her entire body tensed as she filled the room with a cry of pleasure. Her back arched before she sat up suddenly, wrapping her arms around his head, and pressed her sex hard against his mouth.

  He grasped her backside with both hands and lashed her nub with his tongue and lips. Larkin screamed, her blunt nails biting into his skin, as a rush of hot nectar flowed from her.

  He lapped at her until the involuntary undulation of her hips eased, until her cries diminished into panting breaths and her hands glided soothingly, lovingly, over his neck and shoulders. Before she could settle fully, he resumed his attentions, bringing her to another crest — slowly, leisurely, coaxing every tiny reaction he could from her body.

  He brushed his lips over her inner thigh and worked his way up to her lower stomach, tenderly kissing her scars. Her abdomen tensed, but she relaxed it quickly, running her fingers over his head. Dracchus drew himself up, pushing her gently onto her back again. He shifted his tentacles up from her calves, wrapping them around her thighs and under her knees, and guided her legs to enci
rcle his hips.

  “I want you,” she said, brushing her hand down his chest.

  Dracchus fisted his shaft, angling her hips up with his tentacles so he could press the head into her entrance.

  “You have me,” he said, pumping her back and forth upon him, sinking a little deeper with every small thrust. She was tight, soft, and hot, and her oils mingled with his to ease his entry. Dracchus clenched his teeth as her sex gripped him.

  Her body tensed. She released a whimper that she immediately cut off by biting her lip. Panting, she reached up to grasp the top of the bed.

  “Fuck me, Dracchus,” she said. “I need you now.”

  He released a hissing breath through his teeth. It was too much, she was too tight, and he was too large. Moving his hands to her hips, he met her gaze.

  “Forgive me, female.” Dracchus forced his pelvis forward, simultaneously pulling her toward him.

  Larkin gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. The muscles in her forearms stood out as she clenched the bed.

  Dracchus stilled save for his ragged breaths. Every tiny flutter of her inner walls was a delicious torment, crashing over him like a wave, impossible to ignore, but his only concern was Larkin. Her discomfort, her pain. He leaned forward, propping himself on an arm, and began to withdraw from her body.

  Larkin opened her eyes and glared at him. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Her thighs tightened around him, holding him in place.

  He furrowed his brow. “You are getting no pleasure from this.”

  “Just…give me a moment.” She rocked her hips. Her slow, shallow pumps coaxed a groan from Dracchus.

  Tiny changes crept across her features; the tightness in her mouth and brow gradually eased, her eyelids relaxed, seeming to grow heavy, and finally, her lips parted.

  Dracchus found the rhythm of her movements and matched it, pressing himself deeper with each measured thrust. The feelers at the base of his shaft brushed her sex, providing him another taste of her, and he licked his lips to sample the lingering essence of her pleasure.

  He dropped his gaze to watch as he entered and withdrew from her body. It was primal; dark and light, hard and soft, the bridging of two worlds that might never have come together.

  Larkin moaned, tugging her hands through her hair before running them down her body. “Yes,” she breathed. “Now, fuck me now.” Her eyes met his. “Claim me.”

  Dracchus stretched two tentacles behind him, curling them under the bed. “Tell me who you belong to,” he growled.

  “You. I belong to you. My mate.”

  He extended two more tentacles to grasp the bed’s front corners, anchoring himself. “And what does my mate want?” he demanded.

  “You,” she panted. “All of you!”

  Heat blazed through Dracchus’s veins as he slammed into her. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, and she dug her heels into his back to pull him deeper.

  Instinct swept over his mind, and he relinquished control to it; he’d desired her for too long — denied himself for too long — to resist any further. He set a frantic pace, pounding into her, and she met each of his thrusts with equal ferocity. Her cries mixed with his grunts of pleasure.

  The world fell away, leaving nothing but the two of them, their joining, their ecstasy. They gave freely and took greedily of one another, and the pleasure was so intense it bordered on painful.

  He felt the changes in her — the fluttering of her channel as it tightened around him, a surge of heat — before her body stiffened and she came with a choked cry, his name bursting from her lips. He maintained his hold on her legs and hips as she writhed beneath him, but the sudden clamping of her inner muscles sent him over the brink. He came with a roar and fell forward, catching himself on an arm, pressing into her as deep as he could go. Shudders racked his body.

  Dracchus squeezed his eyes shut; in the darkness, he felt her; her heat, the perspiration on her skin, the play of every tiny muscle. The scent of her arousal mingled with his own to create something new, something theirs. Larkin’s breaths, ragged and forceful, flowed over his chest like a familiar ocean current.

  This was pleasure at its purest. Pleasure shared with his mate.

  He opened his eyes when he felt her hands glide over his sides, smoothing up toward his shoulders. For the first time in his life, he cursed his size; he was too long to kiss her, to look upon her face, without withdrawing from her.

  He savored the feel of her a moment longer before he regretfully pulled from her body with a groan, immediately rolling to the side and gathering her limp form in his arms. He drew her back against his front and twined his tentacles with her legs. His slick cock brushed her thighs.

  Dracchus slipped one arm beneath her head, bending it to press a hand over her heart, and draped his other arm over her hips to cover her scars with his palm. His hearts pounded. She settled her hands over both of his and eased into his embrace.

  They were both silent as their bodies gradually descended from the heights of pleasure they’d achieved.

  Larkin shuddered. A warm drop of moisture trickled over his arm.

  Dracchus frowned. “Larkin?”

  She sniffled, and her body shook anew. “I never thought I’d have this.”

  “It upsets you?”

  She lifted her hand from her chest and wiped her face. “No. It’s just… Other men always saw my scars, knew of the accident, and all they saw was a body to fuck without consequences. I used them, as well, but it still always hurt to know they’d move on because I was damaged goods. Useful to scratch an itch and nothing more. There was never a future.”

  Dracchus held her a little tighter at the thought of her with other males. He hated the pain she’d endured, but he was glad she’d been rejected — that rejection had ultimately led her to him. A pang of guilt struck him. It was a selfish thought, but he couldn’t deny it.

  “There is a future for us,” he said, sliding his hand down to gently cup her sex, “and I will not give you up. You are mine, female. Forever.”

  She laughed, turned her face into his arm, and kissed it. He felt more tears, but her body shook with joy rather than sorrow. “I never imagined sex with a kraken would be so dirty.”

  Dracchus wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but her tone didn’t imply anything negative. He stroked a tentacle lazily up and down one of her legs and returned his hand to her stomach. His fingers traced the scars, and his chest swelled with pride and contentment when she didn’t stiffen or flinch away.

  “What happened, Larkin?” he asked.

  She rested her head on his arm and took a deep breath. “Twelve years ago, when I was fifteen, we were hunting a predator that was killing livestock near a town called Gordons Ridge. The loss of food was bad enough, but it was getting too close to the humans who kept the herds, and we didn’t want some little kid to become its next meal. The tracks we found near one of the attacks belonged to a tiger. A big one.”

  “What is a tiger?” Dracchus’s few experiences on land hadn’t acquainted him with much of the wildlife, and neither Arkon nor any of the other humans had ever mentioned tigers.

  “They’re large animals, with bodies shaped a bit like a prixxir. If prixxir were covered in black-and-purple striped fur and lived only on land. They have manes, which is a lot of long fur around their heads, and long ears and tails, but their tails are thin. The claws on a full-grown tiger are as big my finger. I guess the early colonists thought they looked like a creature from Earth, so they gave it the same name. Extremely aggressive. They don’t usually hunt humans, but once they get a taste…

  “Anyway, we tracked it into the jungle and split off into pairs to cover more ground. My mom and I…” Larkin paused, taking in a shaky breath. “We heard it roar, and then another animal bleating. We raced toward the sound and found the tiger attacking a baby opik. It turned on us, ready to attack because we threatened its kill, but we were faster. Me and my mom fired at the same time. It went down before it took two steps. />
  “After we made sure it was dead, my mom went to check on the opik. It was still alive. We thought that maybe, if we acted fast enough, we could stop the bleeding. Give it a chance to survive. So, we called for the rest of the rangers and got to work. But then…its mother came.”

  Larkin covered his hand and pressed it down on her scars, as though it could relieve her pain. “Opiks are big when they’re adults. Taller than most humans at the shoulder, maybe as long as you. Thick necks, with heads low to the ground, and…horns. It didn’t give a shit that we were helping its baby, just that we were there. That we had its baby’s blood on our hands. And big as they are, they’re damned fast.

  “I had enough time to get to my feet, but I couldn’t bring up my rifle fast enough. I don’t think shooting it would’ve made any difference, but maybe if I’d been a little quicker…”

  Fresh, hot tears flowed over Dracchus’s arm. His chest ached for her. He couldn’t find words.

  “It hit me first. Lifted its head, and I just felt this pressure,” her fingers clenched over his hand, digging her nails into his flesh, “and then I was in the air. I hit a tree, and my vision went black, but I could hear my mom yelling to get the opik’s attention, heard it clomping through the undergrowth. Heard her screams. Then shouting, and gunshots.

  “I remember everything getting so quiet that my heartbeat filled my ears. Then my father wailed, and I knew…she was gone. Randall was frantically calling my name, and I think I felt his hands on my face, but I must have passed out, because there was nothing else.

  “I woke up later in agony. I was hot all over, sick to my stomach. My dad and brother were at my side, holding my hands, and I’d never seen them so pale, so strained. I’d never seen either of them cry, but they were crying over me. My mom was dead, and they were afraid they’d lose me, too. I was so torn up inside, and they stitched me up as best they could, but we were so far away from home. We didn’t have supplies to perform surgery, and I probably would’ve died if they took me all the back to the Fort.

  “An infection set in. I don’t remember much of that, either, except that my father was there every time I opened my eyes. He refused to leave my side. They said it was five days before my fever broke. Someone had run to the nearest town and scrounged up a booster, some antibiotics, and a doctor, and eventually, they were able to bring me home so I could recover. It took a long time, and there was so much pain, and my mother was just gone, and I’d never hear her voice again, or see her smile, or be hugged by her.”

 

‹ Prev