2
Sabrina
I giggle as the handsome stranger carries me over the threshold. Even though my human form is petite, I love how dainty I feel in his arms. My ten-foot kraken tentacles are the girth of this man’s leg. How will I enjoy his company without envisioning what could grow between us? He’s handsome now…but as a Kraken…
Shiver.
Why must my treacherous mind go there?! When he transforms, he will be a giant Kraken with the power to sink boats with a thrash of his tentacle. I can’t wait for the red flesh to propel him—and his blond locks—across the Caribbean. As a rogue pirate, I doubt he will want to remain human after our ceremony. He will give up the brothels for adventure with me; I just know it.
“You smile already, pretty lady,” he says with a nuzzlewhere my neck meets my shoulder. “I haven’t given you a reason to smile yet.”
Stop it, Sabrina, before you hurt yourself!
He drops me onto the lumpy bed and pounces on me as I rebound off the musty feather mattress. Two heavy boots clunk onto the floor as he violently kicks them off. I’m practically drooling as he whips his white linen shirt over his head. His blond hair floats to his shoulders like a golden cloud. Amulets on leather cords hang from his neck to the bottom of his ribs. I follow his seven fingers as his hands smooth down his toned, lean midsection. My desire for him soars as he slowly unbuckles his belt and unties his leathers. I’m awash with shyness and snap my gaze to his face to avoid watching him remove his cock from his pants.
“You’re about to miss the best part of the show, love,” he says with a flick of his blue eyes downward. The cold desire in them freezes me from head to toe when our eyes meet again. He waits with his laces wrapped around his fingers until my lashes drift downward and my attention is where he directs.
I can’t breathe. Any time my eyes move to a safer place—like the wall behind him—he stops. Our power play has morphed into a game of cat and mouse. Half of me wants to admit I’m in over my head and run…the other half wants to lick the ridges where his hips meet his waist. By the time his leathers hit the floor, I’m a mess of need. Usually, I’m fighting my bed partner to open my corset to fondle my breasts instead of a quick stick under my skirts. This stranger stands stark naked, stroking himself, devouring me with his eyes as if he can’t decide what part of me to consume first.
My courage evaporates, and I scoot backward until my rump hits the bars of the headboard. With a deep chuckle, he crawls onto the bed, prowling toward me on all fours. My heart thunders in my chest as he grabs my ankles. He pushes them apart before pressing them down in a silent order to keep my legs open. His hands glide up my legs as he raises my skirts and slides up my clothed body. I flinch when his thumbs press the sensitive clefts behind my knees. He flashes that brilliant smile at me when he catches my tell. My cheeks heat with mortification. The skin on my inner thighs is wet with my overwhelming response to his slow seduction.
I bet he feels every drop. A calloused thumb collects the dew on my slit, and I nearly hit the ceiling. He withdraws the scandalous hand to present his shining thumb at the end of my nose. I can’t look away or squirm with embarrassment. I’m pinned by his hand clasped over my cunt as I stare at how much I want him. The evidence on his hand hangs between our faces.There’s nowhere to hide from my lecherous side.
His lips caress my ear as he whispers, “Sweet girl, preparing to take her captain’s cock. Don’t shy away from me. I’ll hunt for your treasures all night if I must. It’s what we scoundrels do. No need to pretend you’re a blushing sweetheart with me.”
As if I have an ounce of control over my body! His thumb disappears between his lips. I didn’t think I could flush harder, but the heat travels from my cheeks, down my neck, and dives to my soulbeak. Below my skirts, his fingers move. He’s inside me and dancing over my most sensitive tissues at the same time—doing more damage to my decorum and self-control than any other partner in my past! And he does so with fewer fingers.
“Let me hear those moans of pleasure as I learn your body.” If he wants me to moan, he’ll have to put in the work above my belt. I’m not a half-penny-upright who lifts her skirts for men to steal a half-minute of pleasure from her depths.
I get mine first.
“Shortgown strings,” I whisper between kitten mews. Where’s my voice? Where’s the confident lady who had her pick of men downstairs? Who is this trembling pile of feminine need?
“These?” He removes the thumb from his mouth and grabs the strings lacing the front of mydress together. Instead of pulling the string at the bottom and allowing my bosom to slide out the top, he grips the crisscrossing lattice and pops the strings. My whalebone stays burst open on my exhale. My breasts push my linen shift through the opening like yeasted dough. The delicate linen flutters to my waist. Sticky, humid air pets the hard points of my nipples with each breath I take.
“I can’t peak without—” I’m cut off by the sensation of his fingers withdrawing from my cunt. Air slams from my lungs, pushing my gaping linen shift from my shoulders. It drapes over the edges of my open stays like window curtains. His drenched index finger coats my left nipple with my arousal before he flicks it with his tongue. My head lolls backward in bliss until I hit his hand.
“Almost,” he says, cradling my head so I don’t hit the headboard. He slides his opposite hand under my arse to maneuver me onto my back. My skirts twist around my waist, tugging at my soulbeak. “I’ve got you. Thank you for telling me about those potent little buttons. Let’s get you out of this dress, so I can feast on all of you.”
“No, no, I’m fine,” I say, clutching my skirts to my belly. It raises them higher, so the island breeze can whisper up my open sex. Hopefully, his attention drawsto my exposed thighs and away from my soulbeak. I can’t be naked with this dangerous man. One bite to my soulbeak will ruin everything. He may be my soulmate, but I’m not giving my freedom to him tonight. He’s a stranger. “We don’t know each other.”
“Everyone knows Teeth,” he says with the smile that must be his namesake. “But if you want to try to hide my face beneath your skirts, who am I to argue? I’ll still do unspeakable things if you ask sweetly.”
My knuckles glow pink as the grip on my skirt loosens. Strumpet behavior—like keeping my dress on my person to prevent theft? Let him think what he wants as long as I’m protected. I give him a shaky smile because I don’t know what to say. My usual trysts don’t include conversation. I shove my mark’s face in my cleavage while I ride his sugarstick to my climax. There’s no seduction. There’s no connection. I barely notice when he peaks because I’m absorbed in satiating my need that I’ve built flirting downstairs.
“Eyes on me,” Teeth says with a growl. He demands my full attention. I can’t even retreat into my head. I must be present and acknowledge I’m under my soulmate, who hasn’t a clue. “You know I have enough virtue to deserve you but not so much to leave you wanting.”
“How?” Iask as I trace a scar bisecting his left eyebrow. Luckily, he understands my breathy one-word sentences.
“Protecting those I care about, rescuing others, righting the balance between men of all colors, and respecting women in all occupations,” he whispers.
His grin opens to suck my breast inside his hot mouth. His fingers work my other nipple with the tugs and rolls I love. My back arches off the bed as he works me into a frenzy. The brush of his fingertips up my thigh as he feasts on my nipples sets my body on fire. I push my knees open as far as I dare to stress my human form.
Oh, how I wish I could drape my tentacles over the sides of the bed to welcome his cock into my pelvic pouch!
His mouth wandering to the underside of my breast is like a bucket of cold water thrown over my head. He won’t be the first man I’ve shoved off my belly before he consumes my soulbeak. I suck in my stomach as my body recoils.
“Ticklish belly, eh?”
