She laughed as he raised his hand; paint dripped from the tips of his fingers and covered most of the brush’s handle. “I guess I should’ve told you to only dip the bristles. You can rinse it all off in the water.”
His skin tinged violet while he moved to the bin, plunged his hand in, and scrubbed. The water clouded red.
“Can we say I was slightly over enthusiastic and forget this mishap?” He lifted his hand from the bin and shook off the excess water.
“Forget what?”
“What just hap—” A slow smile spread across his lips. “I understand. I shall now make my first attempt.”
He reached down with exaggerated delicacy, easing the tip of the brush into the jar of red paint. His attention shifted to the wall, where he painted — with equal concentration — a triangle. His lines were surprisingly straight, though he applied the paint somewhat unevenly.
She watched from her periphery as he lost himself in the activity; he built on that first triangle, positioning more around it at varying angles and colors, only allowing shapes of the same color to come into contact at their corners. Both his concentration and his excitement strengthened as the pieces came together, though he still managed to cover his hands in paint.
He asked a few questions as he worked. Aymee showed him how to mix colors to create new ones, and the process brought a look of wonderment to his face. His early attempts were less than appealing, but he quickly learned the relationships between the colors and grew better able to predict what the combinations would produce.
They painted until a section of wall at least three meters across was covered in shapes and images, blotches of color and lines.
Aymee turned her head toward him and grinned; his intense focus was endearing. She stepped closer and ran her brush down his arm, creating a blue line a few shades darker than his skin.
He paused and looked down at his arm, brow furrowing. “Are we not meant to be painting the wall?”
“I’ve decided to paint you.” With a few flowing motions, she painted a series of spirals and lines on his chest.
“I do not believe I make a very good canvas,” he said, and his skin changed to match the color of the paint, making it disappear.
Aymee laughed as she rinsed her brush, dipped it into the white paint, and created another design on his abdomen.
Arkon smiled and leaned down to dip his brush into the jar of orange paint. “I’ve no desire to ruin your clothing. Will you remove it...or shall I?”
Immediate desire flooded her. “Which would you prefer?” she asked.
One of his tentacles reached forward, encircled her waist, and drew her close. “I prefer to have my hands on you.” He passed the brush to another tentacle and carefully unbuttoned her shirt with his fingertips and claws. His skin changed again as he did so, making the paint on his arm and torso stand out against its rich maroon.
“What does that color mean?” she asked as he pushed her shirt aside, baring her breasts. She let the garment fall to the floor along with her paintbrush.
He ran his palms down her sides, trailing paint over her skin, and hooked the waistband of her pants with his fingers. “It means I am very interested in my new canvas.”
The tips of his claws lightly grazed her legs as he slid her pants down; though heat suffused her, she shivered when she stepped out of them.
“And what will you paint on your new canvas?”
He dipped his chin, moving his gaze down her body. “Now that I look upon it in full, I find it too beautiful to mar with my amateur attempts.”
Aymee’s breath quickened, her nipples tightened, and she squeezed her thighs against the ache growing between them. His words, paired with his gaze, brought her body to life.
Arkon’s eyes darkened, violet irises eclipsed by the black of his pupils.
He advanced, and Aymee retreated until her back hit the wall. Pressing his palms to the surface on either side of her, he leaned in close. His tentacles slid up along her bare legs, caressing, and she willingly parted them for him. Suction cups lightly kissed and tasted her flesh.
She placed a hand on his stomach. The muscles beneath her palm rippled as she slid it down. His slit parted when she teased it with her fingers, and his glistening shaft thrust out. Aymee curled her fingers around him.
He growled, baring his teeth, and tilted his head toward her. A shudder coursed through him, and he covered her mouth with his. His arms remained anchored to either side, but his tentacles moved, brushing her thighs, her breasts, her hips; the tip of one slid along her sex.
She gasped against his mouth and he deepened the kiss, his tongue beckoning hers to join in a sensual dance. The tentacle between her legs spread her nether lips and stroked the sensitive bud hidden there. Aymee moaned and rocked her hips, wanting — needing — more. Her arms looped around his neck and she drew herself closer, pressing her breasts to his chest. Fire spread through her as she moved against him. Her breasts ached and her core clenched.
“Arkon,” Aymee begged, tearing her mouth from his. She undulated on his tentacle, panting out the words as she climbed to a peak. “Please. I need you.”
He dropped his hands to her ass and lifted her suddenly. His tentacles forced her legs around his waist. She clutched at him as he lowered her onto his waiting cock, seating her fully upon him with one powerful thrust, filling her, stretching her.
It was too much. It wasn’t enough.
The feelers at his base found her clit and stroked.
She broke with a crescendo of cries.
Waves of pleasure swept through her, and she was caught in their current. Aymee squeezed his sides with her legs, digging her heels into his back, and clawed his shoulders with her nails. Warmth pervaded her, and her sex tightened around him, inner muscles quivering and drawing him in deeper.
Arkon held her through all of it. He hissed softly into her ear until he finally pulled back and pushed into her again. His tentacles worshipped her skin; his claws grazed her backside in his desperate but surprisingly gentle grip. Though his rhythm remained consistent, his pace increased, and their moans mingled with the sounds of the raging storm.
The fires inside her rose into an inferno, blazing through her from head to toe and dominating her entire being. It was pain; it was pleasure; it encompassed her entirely.
She came again with a scream and clung to him — her lifeline — as he sped his pace, pistoning in and out of her, pushing deeper with every thrust. Violent tremors wracked her. Seeking relief, she bit his shoulder.
Arkon threw his head back and roared. The sound vibrated through Aymee. She felt him thicken, stretching her further, and then he exploded within her, flooding her ravenous body with his hot seed.
He pinned her to the wall. Aymee writhed as the feelers at the base of his cock flicked and stroked her swollen, sensitive clit. She panted and ground against him.
Breathing heavily, Arkon leaned back and covered her breasts with his hands, kneading her flesh. His tentacles and pelvis held her in place, and he watched with hungry eyes while he pushed her to the edge again.
“Arkon,” she rasped when her body’s quaking subsided.
“You’re beautiful.” He moved his hands from her breasts to settle upon her hips. One corner of his mouth lifted. “Though I do prefer your natural color.”
Aymee glanced down. Whorls of color were smeared all over her body, and she knew her back had left proof of their lovemaking on the wall behind her. She laughed, and the slight motion reminded her of their lingering physical connection. His grip on her tightened.
“Did you enjoy painting?” She grinned. Streaks of paint were smudged over his cheeks, shoulders, and chest.
“More than I had imagined possible,” he replied with a grin of his own. There was a reluctance in his movement as he pulled back from her, finally severing their connection, but he soon scooped her up into his arms. “Perhaps now is an appropriate time for another new experience. I’ve yet to have a shower. Will
you show me?”
She slipped her arms around his neck and smiled. “Gladly.”
Chapter 17
Something brushed along the sole of Aymee’s foot. Brows furrowed, she jerked her foot back, tucked it safely beneath the covers, and nuzzled her cheek into the pillow to go back to sleep.
The same gentle touch trailed over her cheek. She scrunched her nose and turned her face away, inhaling deeply. Even half-asleep she recognized Arkon’s scent — a hint of the sea, a taste of the rain, and something indescribably, utterly him. Its comforting familiarity enveloped her.
The touch moved to her neck and changed, becoming the caress of lips over her sensitive skin. She moaned and reached up, her hand encountering something solid — the side of Arkon’s head.
“Wake up, Aymee,” he said.
“Mmm…” She ran her hand along his jaw then down his neck. “Is it morning already?”
“Already? The sun rose two hours ago, at least.”
“Then the sun woke up too early,” she muttered. She sank back into the bedding, curling up under the blanket.
Arkon made no reply; for several, blissful seconds, Aymee drifted closer to slumber. Then his arms slid beneath her, and he lifted her out of the bed, blanket and all.
“Arkon!” She flailed until she looped her arms around his neck. Shoving aside the tangled blanket, she blew hair out of her face and met his gaze.
“You have talked several times over the last few days about how you felt caged-in here,” he said. “The day dawned clear, which means we can go out. You are wasting daylight.”
“The storm’s moved on?”
“Yes, but who is to say when the next will come?” He set her gently on her feet. “We need more meat. Would you like to join me on a hunt?”
“Yes! Why didn’t you just say so?” Excitement thrummed through her, and she hurried away, dropping the blanket. The air chilled her bare skin as she retrieved the diving suit from the open chest at the foot of the bed.
“I tried. You didn’t even stir.”
She walked toward the bathroom, suit draped over an arm, and glanced over her shoulder. “You should talk louder next time.”
Though she’d never seen him wear this particular expression — a brow arched and one corner of his mouth raised — she knew it meant something like you’re kidding, right?
Laughing, she entered the bathroom. After relieving herself, she washed her face, scrubbed her teeth, and pulled the suit on. She tied her hair back as she stepped into the barracks again and retrieved her mask. Arkon remained where she’d left him.
She beamed at him. “Let’s go!”
He caught her arm before she rushed out, commanding her attention.
“We’re not going to be able to speak to each other while we’re under, Aymee.”
“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that.
“I need you to stay close at all times, and if I separate from you at any point, remain where I indicate.”
She nodded, hating the fact that she wouldn’t be able to communicate with him. Her mind leapt back to her first meeting with Arkon — it had been initiated because of a gesture Jax had taught Aymee, a signal.
“What about signs?” she asked. “Hand gestures?”
“There are very few that you would be able to accurately recreate,” he said, “so we will keep it simple.” He extended a single finger and pointed down. “Stay here.”
Aymee stared at him blankly.
He turned his hand palm-up and beckoned with his fingers. “Come. I think those will serve as a good starting point.”
She offered an are you kidding me look of her own, but grinned when his lips twitched.
“What about danger?” she asked.
Arkon flashed his skin yellow.
“A sign I can make.”
“Why don’t you create a gesture now, and that is what it will mean to the two of us?”
Aymee scrunched her mouth to the side in thought. She opened her hand, fingers together, and waved it in front of her chest.
Arkon nodded and mimicked her motion. “So it will be.”
They went to the submarine pen together, and Arkon kissed her — a deep, lingering kiss — before she raised her hood and put on the mask. Aymee dove into the water after Arkon, and when he guided her to take hold of him, she wrapped her arms and legs around his torso. Smiling up at him, she rested her head on his shoulder.
He ducked underwater and propelled them forward. Aymee thrilled at his agility as they sped through the concrete tunnel and entered open water. She was torn between appreciating the beauty of the surrounding ocean — which only increased as they neared the bottom — and watching the graceful, hypnotic rhythm of his tentacles as they flared out and came together.
When they reached the seafloor, Arkon slowed and ran his hands along her thighs. Desire rushed through her. With a grin, she unlocked her ankles and lowered her legs, feet coming down on the uneven rock of the bottom. Arkon only released her fully when she’d found her balance.
The submarine pen had granted a tiny glimpse of the sea as a whole; being here now, on the bottom, with endless blue stretching in all directions, was overwhelming. Sunlight glittered on the surface far overhead, casting thin, ever-shifting shadows on the sand and rock at her feet. Sea plants of countless varieties grew all around — patches of waving grass; green and purple stalks covered in bulbous, floating pods; masses of branch-like plants resembling bushes without leaves.
Creatures of many shapes and sizes moved around and through it all. Their colors spanned the rainbow, and their patterns varied; shimmering scales and sleek skin, stone-like hard shells, opalescent carapaces that shifted hue as they were hit by light from different angles. She slowly swept her gaze across it all and stored the images to memory for later paintings.
She looked at Arkon and smiled.
He returned the smile and motioned for her to follow as he swam toward one of the larger rock formations jutting up from the bottom. Many of the creatures scattered, but as Aymee and Arkon slowed their movement, the creatures resumed their normal behavior. She was content to simply watch as they scuttled and swam in and out of holes and through plants, each following its own survival instinct.
Arkon pointed at the ground. Aymee rolled her eyes, but his expression remained stern, and she let herself sink to the bottom.
Her feet touched down on the edge of the rock formation, just before it gave way to a large patch of sand which was broken only by a few smaller rocks and sparse vegetation.
As he swam away from her, Arkon shifted his color to match that of the water. The effect didn’t leave him invisible, but it broke up his silhouette, making his form difficult to distinguish from the surrounding blue. He floated near the rocks about twenty meters away, at the far edge of the sand, directing himself with only the smallest movements of his tentacles. The nearby sea creatures seemed not to notice him.
A shadow passed over Aymee. She twisted, looking up to find its source, and her heart stilled.
A boat.
Turning, she searched frantically for Arkon. It took her a few panicked seconds to pick out his shape. She waved her hand over her chest.
Danger. Danger!
But his back was to her.
“Damnit!” Her gaze flicked back up to the boat as it continued its course.
It was likely nothing — just a fishing boat from The Watch, perhaps with Macy’s father on board. But she couldn’t see any nets or fishing lines trailing in the water behind it.
“Your heart rate has accelerated,” Sam said, startling her. “Do you require assistance?”
“No. Nothing you can help with, Sam.” Aymee searched for Arkon again, tapping her foot on the ground in indecision. He’d told her to stay put, but what if they needed to leave? What if there were hunters on that boat, searching for them? Arkon still hadn’t looked her way.
She needed to reposition herself to catch his attention.
Aymee stepped off the
rock and walked across the sand, careful to avoid the small, swaying plants. She glanced up and finally caught Arkon’s gaze when the ground beneath her moved.
His eyes widened, and his skin flared yellow.
Danger!
The sand under Aymee burst upward, and something huge rose out of it. She tumbled backward, only for the thing to slam into her and send her spinning, annihilating her sense of direction. Fear spiked through her. A cloud of sand obscured the water all around, offering only a glimpse of the beast that had emerged.
The small of her back came down on the edge of the rock formation. Pain arced along her spine. The surrounding water moved in a torrent, and Sam said something, but she couldn’t understand his words over her own rasping breaths. Aymee scrambled away, shoving herself along the bottom, as the creature charged.
It was fully in her view for only a moment, but that was long enough for it to be forever burned into her memory. Wide mandibles extended to either side of its mouth, likely acting as funnels to direct food toward the rows of razor-sharp teeth at the middle, and thick, paddle-like fins pumped along its belly. The hump on its hard-shelled top resembled the surrounding rocks. Its small, black eyes — six of them arranged over the toothy part of its mouth — were directed at her.
In a surge of motion, Arkon slammed into the creature’s belly. His momentum threw off its course, and it spun aside, thrashing to right itself. Aymee’s breath caught in her throat.
Sam’s voice seemed to contain a hint of alarm, but she still couldn’t decipher his words; all her attention was on the struggle before her, leaving room for nothing else.
Arkon latched onto the beast — which was at least as long as him and almost twice as wide — wrapped his tentacles around it, and jabbed its belly repeatedly with his claws. It bucked and kicked its fins to dislodge the kraken, but Arkon didn’t relent. His tentacles coiled tighter. Cracks appeared in the beast’s shell.
Blood clouded the water, mingling with the still-settling sand.
Don’t let him be hurt!
The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story Page 51
