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Authors: Cleo Peitsche

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BOOK: Master of the Deep
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“Monroe.” The crush of his lips stole her breath away, and she returned his feverish kiss, rising up on her toes and twining her fingers behind his neck.
 

Then she was crying, and Koenraad seemed to somehow know because when the tears started, he stiffened as if he wanted to pull away to check on her. But she held tight, and he allowed it.

Water flowed down their faces, and when Koenraad slowly and gently ended what had started as an almost violent kiss, Monroe looked into his eyes.

“Maybe you’re technically not human, but you’re a good man, Koenraad Van Buren.”

“Monroe—”
 

“You protect me, and you’re thoughtful. You have to realize that nothing in my life is ever going to measure up to this.”

Before he could renew his protests, she pushed him up against a wall. He could have easily stopped her, but he didn’t. She took that as a good sign.

“Fuck me,” she said, staring steadily into his eyes.

He looked away, shook his head. “I don’t think I should.”

“Well, I do. If you’re too tired, sit down. I’ll climb on top.”

His eyes searched hers. “I think one day you’re going to hate me,” he said quietly. “And I’ll deserve it. The least I can do is keep my hands off you.”

“If you’re going to do that overprotective guy thing with me, then yeah, there’s a good chance I’ll hate you. Yes, I could have drowned in that crater lake, died when that toy airplane crashed, gotten eaten by a shark, but I didn’t. But you know what did happen? I’ve had the most amazing few days of my life.” Her voice nearly shook with emotion.
 

“Monroe, listen—”
 

“You listen. My life isn’t horrible, but I can honestly say that I never had a moment of true peace until I met you. And that’s
with
all the dangerous things happening around me. I’m happy, Koenraad. Really, truly happy. And I’m saying that as someone who apparently has blood in her hair and… whatever this is.” She gestured to the pink skin, which had turned a raw shade of red under the hot water. “It doesn’t even hurt. I’m fine!”

She grabbed shampoo and lathered up her hair, then did the same to Koenraad.

“But you don’t know the whole story,” he said, quickly rinsing himself with jerky movements.
 

She held up a sudsy hand. “Forget it. You know what I say? It doesn’t matter!” Her vehemence took him noticeably aback, and she charged ahead. “So I got bitten by a shark. At first I was glad that I don’t remember anything, but you know what? I’m exercising my prerogative as a woman and I’m changing my mind. I wish I could remember. How many people get mortal shark bites and recover? You know what they say… swim with sharks…” She grinned as she rinsed away the shampoo, which was surprisingly moisturizing. “What’s the equivalent of fleas in the water?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked so sad. “Sea lice, I guess.”

That brought her up short. “Ew. Is that a thing?”
 

“Unfortunately.”
 

She wrinkled her nose. “Do
you
have sea lice?”

He didn’t smile, but at least his frown wasn’t as deep as before. “No. Do you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know. Maybe you’d better check me.”
Come on
, she thought.
I’m fine, obviously fine. Let’s just be normal.
The night before must have been hell on him, but his sadness only made her feel guilty.
 

Licking her lips, she ran her hands over the slippery hardness of his muscular chest. “Better check me inside and out.”

Koenraad grabbed her, his touch rough and hard. It was just what she wanted, what she needed. She whimpered as she looked up at him, and next thing she knew, he’d flipped them, trapping her against the wall. Bracing herself against the tiles, she rubbed her body against his. She felt him blindly reaching around her, and then the shower shut off. The glass door pushed out, and a whoosh of cooler air rushed in, but everywhere Koenraad touched her was hot.

He carried her out and lowered her into the bathtub. The oscillating caress of the whirlpools felt amazing on her back.

She skimmed her eyes down his body, her gaze coming to rest near his hips. His cock was magnificent. Large, hard, heavy. Sucking him had been a pleasure, one she was eager to revisit and see to completion. Maybe one day he’d let her.
 

“I want to see,” she said. “I want to see you the way you really are.”

“This is what I really am,” he said as he stepped into the tub and sat across from her.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I do.”
 

But then his hand was between her legs. His fingers ran between her folds, curving along her body so that by rocking his hand, he could excite her clit while pressing just enough into her tight slit to make the argument she’d been forming die on her tongue.

“You are so beautiful,” he said. His hand stilled. “When I saw you on that ridiculous, broken-down boat, I wanted you.”

“I know,” she said. “It was so obvious.”

Even though she’d been joking, Koenraad’s face was serious. “It probably was.”
 

“You are so—oh!” Her eyes fluttered closed as Koenraad’s hand resumed that dipping stroke between her legs.
 

She raised her hips, and her torso slid down. She thrust up, even though doing so brought her mouth and nose perilously close to the bubbling waterline.

“You want it harder?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

He gave her what she wanted and then some. Two fingers, plunging roughly into her, and she was so turned on, so slippery that he glided easily despite how tightly her muscles were clenched.

Her hands ached as she gripped the sides of the tub, water sloshing over the side as she rode him.
 

“Yes, oh yes, yes,” she moaned.

“Nothing wrong with you,” he said, his voice a rough purr that filled the bathroom. “You’re perfection.”

She came on his thrusting hand, her breasts heaving, her face red and sweaty from the heat of the water and his sizzling touch. Her moans slowly ebbed, and she panted, spent.

He gave her all of two seconds to recover, then he slid a third finger inside her.
 

She tried to twist her hips away from him. “Too. Sensitive,” she gasped. But already her muscles were tightening again. “Don’t stop!”

To her bewilderment, he stopped. “It’s very confusing to know what you want,” he teased.

She dipped a hand under the water and found his cock stiff and ready. She gripped him tighter. “I want to see.”

“Not gonna happen. It’s not the right time, and if I have to distract you with nonstop orgasms, so be it.”

“Please.” She tried to make big, sad eyes at him, but he didn’t seem moved in the least. Apparently cute was wasted on sharks.
 

He sighed. “It pains me to see you debasing yourself like this.” Though he didn’t sound pained. He sounded exactly like a man who was enjoying having a naked woman, who was impaled on his hand, begging for something that only he could give her.

“You’re cheating,” she said. “You’re acting like I’m begging for sex, but all I want is to see your dick.”

“Would you like me to make you beg for sex?”

She raised her chin. “I might ask, but it’s not the same as begging.”

“That’s true. However, I can make you beg. And I’d also like to point out that you’re easily distracted.”
 

“I’m not.”

He moved his hand away, and she sighed, disappointed.

“Easily tormented as well.”

She tried to glower at him, but her smile ruined the effort. “I’ll just lie here and enjoy the whirlpool. After all, I already had my orgasm. Those of us who want to be immature about our bodies will have to do without.”

Koenraad threw back his head and roared a laugh that delighted Monroe to the tips of her toes. Getting him to relax was never easy… but he was worth it. His eyes met hers. Smiling, she pulled herself a little higher out of the water so that the tips of her nipples broke the surface.

“Not going to work,” Koenraad said, and even though he hadn’t stopped staring into her eyes, she
knew
he was carefully watching the action.
 

“Your pupils are so big, you’ve probably got panoramic vision. You can see my nipples poking out, can’t you?” she asked.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Then you don’t mind if I do this.” She caught her nipples between her fingers and gave them tight little tugs.
 

“When I said it doesn’t make sense, I meant that even a human has enough peripheral vision to see
those
. Quite lovely, by the way.”

“Then take a real look.” She pinched her nipples, flicked them. “Oh, yeah baby,” she moaned.

“You think I can’t tell when a woman is faking it?”

“Had a lot of experience?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Surprised, she forgot what she was doing to herself and blinked up at him. Having a lot of partners who’d faked pleasure wasn’t the sort of thing most men would admit. And Koenraad had proven himself quite capable in bed.

“At the risk of inflating your ego, I find that hard to believe,” she said.

He restricted his reaction to a quick twitch of one eyebrow. “I like to watch,” he said. “Even confident women can become shy when a man asks them to spread their legs wide and play with themselves. Then they fake it, and I have to punish them.”

Punish.
Monroe blushed hot, and her gaze slid away from Koenraad’s.
 

He leaned over her, kissed her. “Hey,” he said. “I would only make you do that if I knew you liked it.” He took her hands, placed them on her nipples. “Pinch them for me.”

She rolled them between her fingers, her movements stiff and uncomfortable. She couldn’t make herself meet his eyes.
 

But then he leaned forward and sucked both her nipple and her fingers into his mouth. His tongue rolled around them, not unlike when he went down on her.

Her nerve endings buzzed, and when he slowly sat up, she thought she would cry.

“You’re stunning,” he said. “Really, truly beautiful. I could spend days tracing your curves.”

“Just days?”

“We only have a week.” He made a sexy noise of appreciation, a rumbling deep in his throat as he took a leisurely visual tour of her body. “The more I look at you, the more I want to look. It’s getting so that being in public with you is downright distracting.”
 

The constant erections had given her a hint that he liked her body, but it was still nice to hear him say it. She stole a glance at his thick cock. Only the swollen head jutted above the water, but she could make out the outline of his gloriously thick shaft.
 

“What kind of punishment?” she asked. “When the women are shy?”

His predator’s gaze snapped to hers. “You sure you want to know?”
 

She nodded.
 

“I’m not a wordsmith,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Action is more my style.” He slowly stood, holding a hand out to her.
 

She didn’t want to leave the soothing hot jets of the tub, but he’d piqued her curiosity, so she placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to standing.
 

He caught her around the waist, swung her out of the tub, and carefully set her on the floor. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Nowhere,” he said with a wicked smile as he lowered himself back into the tub.

Chapter 14

Koenraad had only thought his cock was hard before.
 

Monroe standing there, her soft skin flushed from the heat of the tub and her own embarrassment, her cheeks red rather than pink, made his dick ache.

He wanted to thrust himself into her, but instead he leaned over and turned off the jets. Sure, he could hear perfectly well over them, but he wanted to savor every moment of this without distraction.

Initially, he’d only given in because seducing him seemed to mean so much to Monroe and because he felt guilty about what had happened, about not telling her the full story. Somewhere along the way, the sexual play had become real.

His gaze travelled from her exquisite face, down to her full, luscious breasts hiding behind tangles of wet hair. His heart sped up as he took in her soft stomach, her full hips, her thighs and knees.

Then back up, slowly. She had amazing legs, and that soft cleft between them was dripping. He knew it was water from the tub, but dripping was dripping, and the erotic visual kicked off a primal male reaction, making his balls tighten and his cock throb.

Groaning, he wrapped a fist around his swollen, aching shaft. “Slide your legs another six inches apart. Good. Take your left hand and place it between your legs,” he said. He liked to start off like this, clinical. She said she wanted to know, and he was going to show her. Even if at the moment he only wanted to be inside her, there would be plenty of time later for that.
 

After all, he was a shark, and he liked the chase.
 

He heard her pulse kick up and the rush of the blood gushing through her veins. And that was just from his order, not from any physical stimulation; her hand was still inching toward her sex.
 

“I know you’re not that shy,” he said.

She smiled, giving him his answer. She was toying with him, provoking him.
 

He shook his head, but he was amused. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. The light scent of her arousal grew heavier in the air by the second, and it was everything he could do not to grab her hips and suck her sweetest, wettest flesh into his mouth.

Finally, her hand covered her mound.
 

“Use two fingers to hold your labia apart. I want you to expose your clitoris for me.”

That made her cheeks go a shade redder, and he took a moment to savor the signs of her embarrassment that only a shifter could perceive: her skyrocketing pulse, the tremble of her throat muscles as she repressed the urge to swallow.

BOOK: Master of the Deep
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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