Master of the Deep (17 page)

“To be honest, I don’t think I had that third reaction,” she said quietly, not wanting to hurt his feelings any more than she already had. He didn’t argue with her.
 

As she examined him more closely, she saw that there were indeed spurs on both of his cocks. They were short and flesh colored, which was why she hadn’t noticed them when she was on her back and farther away. Looking at both cocks was a bit overwhelming, so she focused her attention on one. The barbs started an inch below the cap of the thick head and extended the length of the shaft, stopping about an inch from the base.
 

They looked more like texturizing than anything else.

She touched one, gently. It didn’t hurt, so she flattened her hand and stroked from the bottom up.

Koenraad jerked away as dozens of tiny pinpoints of blood bloomed on her palm.
 

“The top down,” he said.

“It doesn’t hurt. And the bleeding already stopped.”

Koenraad caught her hand and turned it over. “Damn,” he said. “It’s my blood.”

“How do you know?”

He glanced up at her, and she felt herself reddening. “Right,” she mumbled. “Your non-magical powers.”

“I wouldn’t have thought it would still be so active in you,” he said. He went into the bathroom and came back with a dampened towel that he used to clean her palm. Then he inspected the wounds. “You’re completely healed,” he said.

She reached for him again, but he jerked out of her range. “You need to be careful,” he said. “If something happens to you, it’ll still be my fault. On your back.”

Feeling strangely euphoric, she settled on the bed. “Sorry about the way I reacted. Honestly, seeing them was a lot easier than hearing about them.”

“Happy to hear you won’t be in therapy over it.” He smiled, and she couldn’t help but get the impression that he really believed this was turning her on.

Her gaze darted down. It was impossible not to stare at him, at
them
. He gripped one shaft tightly, but unlike before, he didn’t slide his fist up and down. Instead, he squeezed himself.
 

“How come you can’t do them both at the same time?” she asked, a little disappointed.
 

“I can, but I won’t.”

“W—”

“Because you’ve had enough excitement for the day, that’s why. Now play with yourself and if you do a good job, I’ll help you along.”

Her fingers dipped between her legs before she even realized what she was doing. To her surprise, she was sopping wet, and when her finger brushed across her clit, she nearly jumped through the roof, she was so sensitive.

She slid her legs wider, and she met Koenraad’s approving gaze. At the moment, she didn’t mind him watching. Next time she probably would, but for now, all she wanted was to get off.

He choked his member hard, and she winced for him, but it was hot, too, that he was so turned on by her that he wanted to stroke himself anyway.

Digging her heels into the soft sheets, she slid closer to him so that she could see better. A dewy bead of moisture gleamed from the tip of the cock he fisted.

She wanted him inside her, and she moved her legs across his thighs. They were like warm, compressed metal, vibrating with barely contained power.

Koenraad’s breathing mixed with the sound of the ocean outside the balcony.
 

As her finger slid over her clit, she pumped her hips, each movement making her calves glide against his muscular legs.

Koenraad drew his hand up the inside of her thigh, but he stopped before he reached the area where she most needed his touch.
 

Moaning, she wiggled her hips more, but he moved back enough to deny her yet not so far that she’d give up. She served up her brightest smile as he slowly pumped himself.

His answering smile was lazy, confident, and a little cockier than she would have predicted given how awkward things had been between them only minutes earlier.
 

“What do you want?” he asked.

She lifted her chin but held his gaze. “Touch me.”

“You seem to have the hang of it,” he drawled.

“But I want to feel you inside me.” She sat up and grabbed his fist, tried to direct the swollen and now dripping head of his cock between her legs, but he wouldn’t let her.
 

He was keeping her from touching him.

“But I can’t get hurt,” she said. “You saw that.”

His jaw clenched. “I saw you bleed. It’s not worth the risk.”

“Please,” she pleaded. “I want to… to know you in that way, without you holding back.” She needed this, to feel close to him, to have this experience that only he could give her. “Please, Koenraad. If all I have is this week, I want it to count.”

As she begged, she pushed his arm down until the head of his fisted cock, like silk-wrapped steel, brushed the trembling entrance of her sex. She whimpered as he pressed forward, and she could feel his knuckles against her body.

“I won’t,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
 

“But—”

He thrust two fingers deep into her, stretching her, making blood rush to her face, and his thumb shoved away her fingers, which had stopped playing with her clit, though she didn’t remember doing so.

The orgasm was instant.

She writhed on his hand, her pussy clamping around his thrusting fingers. She was aware of her desperate moans as he brought her to orgasm again. She was aware of her legs splayed wide for him, of her submissive posture.

He’d denied her sex, and that hurt her pride, but she also knew that it meant she could trust him, no matter what. If he could put her needs first at a moment like this, she’d always be safe with him.

“You’re—” She wanted to tell him that he was amazing, but a third orgasm took away her ability to speak, and then his large body was over hers, his left side pressing into her right side as he kissed her, devoured her mouth.
 

She felt the soft skin of his cock… the one he wasn’t squeezing… and she rocked her hips, trying to tempt him. Oh, god, she really wanted it inside her. Wanted both of them. And maybe she’d feel differently when the air wasn’t heavy with arousal and when his kisses weren’t frantic and desperate, but she didn’t think so.

Koenraad’s pumping fist pressed into her stomach rhythmically, the tempo so like sex that she moaned with frustration and pleasure.

Hot spurts shot over her belly and chest as he groaned out his pleasure, a sound that made her tingle all over again. She dragged her hands down his torso, his scar thick under her fingers.

She slid her palms around to his back, and she gasped in horror.

From his mid-back and spreading over almost everything she could reach, his skin was bumpy, chewed up. It felt like someone had ripped into him with a chainsaw.

“No more secrets today,” Koenraad said, his husky voice still breathless from his orgasm. “You asked, I agreed, and I’m holding you to that.”

Silently, she nodded. She stared into his eyes and tried to guess what had happened, if he’d gotten into a fight with the shark that attacked her or what.

But as always, she couldn’t even begin to guess what he was thinking. All she could see was his unwavering determination and the reflection of her frightened face in his dark eyes.

Chapter 16

The ocean looked like a blanket of crushed diamonds under the luminous moon. Koenraad had been standing on the beach for twenty minutes while Monroe showered. All he could think about was Brady.
 

He heard the door in the bathroom open, and he turned to look up at the balcony. Monroe wouldn’t have any reason to come out that way, especially naked, but he wished she would. The sight of her always quieted the turmoil inside him. It was a gift she had, calming him.
 

And right now, he yearned for calm.
 

Then he heard the bathroom door close again and the sink start up. For someone who disliked the water, she sure took long showers.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Koenraad walked down the stone path that ran along the mansion. The pool was still full of bloody water. He should have emptied and cleaned it while Monroe had slept, but instead he’d paced back and forth in front of the inlet, avoiding looking into the reflective water while he tried to work himself up to doing what he knew he must.

He’d known what it was to be helpless two years before, but he’d never thought of himself as weak.
 

Not until today. But what other name was there for this inability to act?
 

And he knew that if Brady was at all still inside that shark’s body, he’d be panic-stricken. He’d be aware that he’d messed up, and he’d know that punishment would surely come.
 

Koenraad wasn’t ready to deliver it, though. He’d never touched Brady in anger. To hand Brady over to the Council would be cruel, but so was delaying this. Every minute he procrastinated was surely another minute that Brady was paralyzed with fear.

What kind of father couldn’t do the right thing?
 

In the afternoon, he’d finally taken those first steps toward the water, ready to fulfill his horrible obligation. But then Monroe had woken and screamed for him. It was the sweetest sound, and he’d run to her, his relief at the reprieve colored with shame at his cowardice. There was anger, too, at the idiotic hope that had filled him.

All of this was his fault, and even if Monroe seemed no worse for wear, Koenraad knew the truth. He’d never be able to forget the image of her broken body floating in the water or how helpless he had felt as he’d pumped blood into her silent veins. Brady had done this, and he would do it again.

He threw his head back and sniffed, but whatever he thought he’d smelled… no, Victoria wasn’t here. It was his mind playing tricks on him, imagining the only thing that could make the situation worse.

The water shut off again, and Monroe walked across his bedroom. She appeared on the balcony, and now that he was standing to the side, he had the perfect image of her silhouette as she scoured the beach in front of her.

She was his calm. His everything.

He’d take her to dinner, get a hotel in town for the rest of Monroe’s week. Then he’d come back and deal with all of this, because he didn’t think he could do it while Monroe was anywhere near.

The light in the bedroom turned off, and he heard the faint sounds of her footsteps, her voice calling his name, which might have been one of the sweetest sounds known to man or shifter. He could appreciate that even as sorrow filled him again.

“Koenraad?” She stood in the doorway, illuminated by the light of the hall behind her. The silhouette of her curvy figure was the definition of perfection. “You out here?” She took a few steps toward him, into the darkness.

“I was on my way back inside,” he said as he walked up to her and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You taste minty,” he murmured.

“But I brushed my teeth with garlic,” she said, turning toward him. Her delicate hands slid up to his neck. “Your hair is dry.” She sounded surprised.

“It only took me a few minutes to rinse off,” he said as he guided her back into the mansion.

“Oh.” Confusion colored her voice. “When I was looking out the window, I thought I saw you in the water, though I couldn’t be sure.”

He turned and took a long, hard look at the ocean behind him but didn’t spot anything amiss.
 

She wrapped both her hands around one of his. “Probably just the way the light hit the water. It’s surreal, isn’t it? This is the most peaceful place on the planet, I think. You must be so happy to live here.”

At the moment, the answer to that was a resounding
no
, but he made a noise that could be interpreted however she wanted. If he could eliminate his emotional feelings surrounding the estate, he might feel the same way, but that would never happen. Not now. This place was ruined for him, and after he fulfilled his obligations as a shark and a father, he would never return.

As they walked through the mansion, he felt the weight on his chest grow heavier.
 

“You got rid of the broken shelf? I was thinking… all this space, it’s a shame you don’t have any pets. Even an aquarium,” Monroe was saying, and Koenraad stopped suddenly.

Aquarium.
That was the answer.

Several feet ahead, Monroe turned to look at him, and while he was acutely aware of her—was always aware—he barely saw her.

There was still a chance to save Brady. It wouldn’t be easy…

“What is it?” Monroe asked.

“I was thinking about aquariums.” He felt disgusted with himself as he said it. He would never want to live in a tank. Great white sharks died in captivity… but not right away. He had a contact at the Tureygua aquarium. He could hide Brady there, in plain sight. It was the only place a dangerous shark would never come into contact with humans.
 

But was he doing this for Brady, or for himself?
 

For Brady, he decided. For the boy who loved to build model ships. For the boy who had been excited when his father had found him six months earlier. For his son, who had listened and understood when Koenraad explained why he should stay in the inlet. Brady wasn’t violent. That was the shark, and Brady was a victim.

“I can help you set it up,” Monroe said brightly. “I mean, if you want.”

He barely heard her, but he nodded. He should consider the aquarium more of a boarding school than a prison. And if Spencer was right, if BioAmbition could successfully adapt the treatment, then Brady could shift human within a few months, and Koenraad would take him as far from water as possible. To the Kalahari Desert if need be. No one would ever have to know what Brady had done, and no one would be at risk of an attack.
 

He would call Spencer, tell him to forget secrecy about what BioAmbition was working on, explain that speed was all that mattered.
 

He
would
get his son back. He’d fought too hard to lose him now. And if BioAmbition didn’t show signs of panning out quickly, then he would reevaluate.