Fathom (Mermaids of Montana #3) - Elsa Jade Page 0,50

way would she complain about a little asphyxiation, though, not after the pain he’d revealed or the pleasure he’d shared with her—breath of rising desire or no.

Before she could actually suffocate, he grunted and rolled again, settling her atop his broad chest like a life raft. His erection reduced to a soft pulsation within in, more soothing than arousing. She’d need more than a night and day to get back into fighting shape.

The fire had gone out again—thank god there’d been nothing around her more flammable than her libido—and if not for Sting’s bulk under her she might’ve been chilled. Which reminded her…

“We’re naked in the library where just anyone—including my mother—could walk in on us.”

“I don’t mind,” he murmured. “I’m always almost naked anyway.”

She held back a laugh since she didn’t want to encourage him. And anyway, her giddy delight in the events of the past hour was fading. Such as pleasure was wont to do. He would be leaving soon, taking her mother with him. And that would be best for everyone.

Well, not her, of course. But with the exception of this last hour, she’d never pursued her own needs. Somehow, she’d decided her wants didn’t matter long before the Tritonesse had told her she wasn’t welcome. Why was that? Some genetic memory of being sent away from her home a thousand years ago? Fleeing the conflagration from her first attempt at seizing what she wanted? Or maybe she’d just swallowed the primitive beliefs of this small blue world, where the right to choose her own outcome had seemed as impossible as the existence of alien life.

But even now that she knew better about aliens—much better about some aliens in particular—it didn’t change the truth that her presence was a real danger to people she cared about. As cruel as his genesis and upbringing had been, at least Sting had always been clear about his purpose. At every turn in her life, she’d lost what mattered most to her. And at some point could she be pardoned for not wanting to risk anymore?

Slowly, reluctantly, she pushed herself upright. The cooling, salty slick of sweat and other juices made the separation not painful exactly but deliberate.

He gazed up at her through those pearl eyes, somehow so innocent despite everything. “You are tired and sore,” he murmured. “That is my fault. What do I do next?”

Unable to stop herself, she leaned down to kiss him one more time. “Nothing. There’s nothing for you to do. I just need a drink of water and then I’ll go wash up.” She forced a smile. “I guess I should’ve known a merman would get me this wet.”

Though the compliment was sincere and she was still very wet, his lips didn’t part under hers. Instead, with tender care, he lifted her from his lap, making a rough noise under his breath when she winced a little. Instead of releasing her, he laid her back on the hearth where he’d been, where the marble was still warm from his body. Then he settled between her legs.

She clamped her knees around his ears. “Oh, I can’t,” she moaned. “Not again. You might be a merciless fucking machine, but I’m only human.”

“Not only.” His words whispered across her aching mound. “But you needn’t burn again. Just let me touch you.”

His tongue eased across her swollen tissues in rhythm with the still quivering aftershocks of her orgasms. Though the first contact made her twitch, slower and slower he went until the shocks faded to a glow, and she let out a shuddering sigh, her knees butterflying open again.

“That’s lovely aftercare.” She trailed her fingertips across his brow before urging his head up.

After one last flick of his tongue, he rested his chin lightly on her pubic bone. “Tiny, focused jolts of electricity can stimulate healing.” With the aquarium lights behind him, his silvery eyes were shadowed. “I discovered this when my trainers left me in my cage after discipline and I would lick my wounds.”

Her throat tightened. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“You’re the only one who knows. I feared if the Tritonesse learned of it, they would take it away, as they almost took my voice.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she whispered.

“If I hadn’t been afraid, maybe I could’ve saved some of the Tritonyri who I fought beside.”

“Sting, no.” She sat up, pulling him with her. “That’s not how we’re going to end this—with might’ve-beens.”

The blank shield dropped across his eyes as he stared at her. “But