Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
“It’s going to be special.”
My frame froze solid.
Special?
“We will live our lives. We will have children. We will have grandchildren,” he declared. “And through it all, you will always remember the first time we joined. The first time your husband entered your body and made us one. The time I became truly your husband, and you my wife. You will remember it as a time of splendor. Of passion. Of joy. Not with half your mind consumed with how irritating the sand feels in places it will undoubtedly get that it should not be or who might hear and what they might say.”
One could definitely say, in that moment, I did not care what others might say.
Though he had a point about the sand.
“And when will this time of splendor happen, husband?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out,” he muttered irritably.
“We’ve been married for over—”
“I know, Ha-Lah, bloody trust me, I know,” he rumbled, far more irritably.
Which made me, for some reason, giggle.
“This is not funny,” he grumbled.
“It’s sort of funny,” I teased.
“It is not funny at all,” he returned.
I subdued my giggles but could not stop myself from smiling up at him.
I had a place in his heart.
He knew of my powers.
He might not have moved heaven and earth, but he did move five hundred soldiers, and he did this on a direct path to the sea.
For me.
And the very thought of something harming me terrified him.
Terrified King Aramus of Mar-el.
The mightiest king in Triton.
I had a feeling I could tell him I was a mermaid and he’d care naught about it, except to do all in his power to keep that secret safe.
Me safe.
And I would tell him.
Eventually.
My auntie had told me that to win my mother, my father would have found a way to travel into the skies to gather a star to bring it to her, if this was what she desired.
I did not want a star.
I wanted to be free.
I also told my husband that.
And in a time when I did not think I would ever feel that again, Aramus had found a way to give it to me.
I stroked the back of his neck with my fingers, asking, “Can we kiss some more?”
“I would ultimately very much like to use my cock in ways both of us will enjoy. When that joyous occasion happens, it should not be out of commission due to balls being irretrievably blue,” he griped.
I started giggling again.
“Now that really isn’t funny,” he clipped.
I pressed my lips together again, this time to stop laughing.
When I controlled it, I noted, “It’s heartens me to know you’re an exceptionally skilled kisser.”
He looked above my head and complained, “I see my penance for being a massive arsehole is not complete.”
“Aramus,” I called quietly.
He looked down at me.
Or, he scowled down at me.
“I forgive you.”
He instantly stopped scowling, though his face was no less intense, this I caught nary a second of before he started kissing me again.
It became heated very quickly, what with that talented tongue of his, those full, soft, but firm lips, and both our hunger.
He rolled us so he was on his back in the sand and I was on top (and I had the feeling I liked this positioning better, though I’d definitely try the other again, just to be certain) and both his hands dove into my panties.
Oh yes.
Aramus broke contact with our mouths, bent his head and shoved his face in my neck as his fingers dug into my arse.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“Darling,” I breathed.
“Baby, this feels good,” he whispered, his hands moving over my arse.
He had that right.
“We have to stop,” he told me thickly.
He was right about that too.
Now that he offered it, I wanted special.
Sirens-dammit.
I kissed his jaw.
He pulled his hands from my panties, sat up so I was straddling him, but wasted no time in wrapping an arm tight around me so he could heft me up even as he got to his feet.
Mine fell to the sand.
He let me go, but took my hand, bent to snatch up the toweling, and turned us back to the camp.
We started walking.
Slowly.
“I’m not sure I’d mind a bit of sand,” I murmured.
“Stop it,” he replied on a squeeze of my hand.
“Truly,” I said.
He looked to the sea. “All my thanks. You sent me a siren, and now I’m lost.”
I smiled at his profile.
Aramus looked forward and ordered, “Stop smiling at me.”
“I can’t. You’re being endearing.”
He continued not to look at me as he noted, “You intend to torture me fully until I can find a suitable time to get you under me, don’t you?”
“I was thinking I’d be astride you.”
This time, his head tipped back, and he begged of the heavens, “Someone kill me.”
I walked closer to him and let my head fall to his shoulder, murmuring, “Not until I get astride you.”