Sins Against the Sea (16 page)

As he scrambled to his feet, ready to go after her, the man spied her golden comb on the sand. She was out in the water now, staring at him in outrage.

The man held up the comb. “You forgot something.”

“My comb,” she cried in alarm. “You must give it back…or I will be shamed before all my people. Oh, please…give me back my comb.”

“If you want it, you’ll have to marry me,” said he.

“Where do you live?”

“In California, near the ocean.” He hoped the location would entice her to accept him.

“I do not wish to leave the islands,” she replied after appearing to give the matter some thought. “Why don’t you move here and make your home among my people?”

“I can’t move here,” he said. “How will I support you? In California, I have a good job and a stately house. You will be comfortable there and want for nothing.”

“I already live in a crystal palace,” she said, unpersuaded. “Stay here with me and we will need no money.”

There they stood for a considerable time, each attempting to persuade the other to make the move, and the longer they spent arguing, the more deeply the man fell in love. Finally, the lady swam out to sea, singing woefully about the loss of her comb.

The man watched her go with a sore heart before returning to his lodgings, taking her treasured comb with him. That night, he told the story of their meeting to a colleague from the islands, who said, “The lady you met was a Finmaid…and that comb is her most precious possession. If you would have her, keep the comb and she will be unable to refuse you. But consider this strategy carefully, my friend. For you’d be loads better off casting that accursed comb into the sea and forgetting her.”

“I can’t do that,” said the man, who loved the alleged Finmaid too much to give her up. Not that he believed for a moment she was one of the Finfolk—or any of the other mythological creatures he’d heard stories about while in Orkney.

“In that case, best of luck to you,” said his friend. “But be prepared to lie in the bed you make. Because marriages between mortals and Finmaids rarely end well.”

The man went to bed, thinking of the lady, and at daybreak awoke to find her sitting at the foot of his bed, looking even more ravishing than she had the day before.

“I’ve come to collect my comb,” said she, “and to ask you again to come and live in my crystal palace.”

When the man refused, citing the same reasons he’d given before, she said, “I will make you a fair offer then. I will be your wife and will live with you for seven years if you vow to return my comb at the end of that time.”

Jumping out of bed, the man fell on his knees before her and swore to keep the bargain. So, he married her and returned to California, where she took daily swims in the ocean, rain or shine.

She was a good and loving wife to the man, as well as a gifted storyteller who often spoke of a place called Finfolkaheem with longing in her eyes. Within a year, they had a child—a little girl he loved as much as her mother. When the time came to honor his promise, the man struck a bargain with his wife. He would give her the comb in exchange for their daughter. Aerwyna agreed, though with obvious grief, and swam away from her family, never to be seen again.

A haunting song wafting through the wall drew Corey from the recollection of her father’s story.

“There was no music in my harp,

My fingers knew naught but pain,

Then your kiss, that wondrous barb,

Brought song to my life again.

She was enthralled, mesmerized, bewitched. His voice, more hypnotically beautiful than anything she’d ever heard, touched her heart and called to her soul. The desire to go to him rose inside her like a mighty wave. Entranced by its powerful pull, she threw back the covers, climbed out of bed, and padded into the hall. Finding the door to his bedroom closed, she listened for a moment, spellbound.

“Vair me oro van o

Vair me oro van ee

Vair me oru o ho

Sad am I without thee.”

Though she hated to interrupt something so captivating, she knocked softly. “Kew-in? It’s Corey. Can I come in?”

She heard bedsprings, then soft footsteps. The door opened. He came into the doorway and stood there looking down at her with sad, liquid eyes. Several breathless moments passed before he said, “I’m so sorry, Cordelia. Had I known you were afeared of drowning, I never would have done what I did.”

She watched his mouth as he spoke, longing to kiss him. God, he was beautiful with his long black hair, powerful shoulders, full lips, and sea-colored eyes. Did she maybe find him so attractive because they were both children of the ocean?

“Tell me again that you love me.”

“I love you, Cordelia.”

“Then make love to me, Kew-in.”

“Gladly,” he said. “But can we do it in the bathtub?”

The request struck her as odd for a moment until she remembered what he was.

“Sure…” She hesitated. “Unless, of course, you’re planning to drown me again.”

“You are the daughter of a Finmaid, Cordelia,” he said, straight-faced. “You need not fear drowning ever again.”

Taking her by the arm, he pulled her into the bathroom and turned on the taps. As the tub filled, he came to her, took her face between his hands, and lifted her gaze to his. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Neither have I.” It was the truth. Even with Jared she didn’t feel as deeply connected she did with Kew-in, who felt like the missing half of her soul.

He moved his mouth toward hers—that wide, full-lipped mouth of his she wanted to kiss so badly she was trembling all over. He licked those beguiling lips before touching them to hers. She opened to him like an oyster, inviting him to come inside. Desire shivered through her as his tongue engaged hers in a slow, sensual dance.

She moved her hands to his hair, entangling her fingers in his ornamented locks. The strands felt soft and silky, but also heavy.

How do you like it?

She heard the question inside her head. How cool that they could talk while kissing. Assuming he meant what they were doing, she replied,
I like it a lot.

I meant spawning.

Oh! Well…I guess I like it the usual way.

Do you like it standing up or lying down?

Both, I guess. Which way do you prefer?

I like it both ways, too. I also like it in the water. One day, I would like to mate with you in the ocean. Would you like that, too?

She smiled against his mouth, imagining they were in a deserted lagoon, making love in the wet sand as the lapping waves spilled over their enjoined bodies.

I believe I would enjoy saltwater sex.

He pulled away to check the water level in the tub, which was plenty full—and plenty hot, too, judging by the steam rising off the water. The bathroom was thick with it, lending the cold white room a misty ambience that was at once mysterious and romantic. After shutting off the faucets, he picked up the jar of bath salts and poured some in before bending to swish the water with his hand. She moved behind him and ran her hands over the globes of his buttocks, which were wonderfully firm and smooth.

You have a lovely ass for a merman.

He laughed—a beautiful sound rivaled only by his singing voice.
I like your body, too.

At that, he rose to his full height and turned around. He was naked, but she still wore her bedtime T-shirt. Her gaze dropped to his erection, which stood proudly between them.

Desire mixed with scientific curiosity made her eager to explore. Leaning in, she kissed his mouth as she ran her fingertips along his shaft. Holy shit. His mating apparatus might look like a human man’s, but it did not feel like one. It was harder and more solid, like there was a bone inside the flesh—which there probably was. Or cartilage, at the very least.

Is your dick always hard, Kew-in?

My dick?

Your penis.

Aye, Cordelia.

Hydrodynamically speaking, a retractable penis only made sense. A sheathable sex organ also was protected from injury and always ready when needed.

She ran her tongue back and forth across his bottom lip as she took his measure. When she swiped her thumb across the tip, his breath caught and his eyelids fluttered.

“Do you like what I’m doing?”

“Yes.” His voice was as soft as the hiss of the ocean.

He flexed his hips, pushing deeper into her hand, and she reflexively tightened her grip. A low sound of intense pleasure rose from deep in his throat.

Use your mouth, Cordelia.

She smiled at the unspoken request, pleased he had no trouble communicating his sexual needs.

Without letting go, she used her foot to move the bathmat between them. Then, she got down on her knees and flicked her tongue against the crown of his cock. Kew-in gasped and looked down, locking his gaze on what she was doing. Closing her lips around the head, she repeated the action, adding gentle suction.

He trembled and took hold of her head. “Oh, aye, Cordelia. That feels very nice.”

Pleased he was enjoying her efforts, she took him deeper and twirled her tongue along the underside of his shaft. Returning to the head, she bored the tip of her tongue into the spout. He groaned and thrust his hips, driving more of his length into her mouth.

She twirled her tongue up and down his shaft before gently pressing her teeth into his flesh. Then, she moved gradually upward, scraping very softly along his flesh.

Hissing with pleasure, he entwined his fingers in her hair. Holding her head steady, he thrust, driving his dome into her tonsils. She sucked harder and sank her teeth a little deeper while twirling her tongue up, down, and around.

His jaw clenched and his eyes smoldered with pleasure. Tightening his grip on her scalp, he abruptly withdrew from her mouth. “I’m going to spill myself if you continue…and I still want to spawn with you.”

Helping her to her feet, he slid his hands down her body and took hold of the hem of her nightshirt. Assuming he meant to undress her, she raised her arms in the air. The T-shirt came off over her head and was cast aside.

He explored her body with his webbed fingers. Breasts, nipples, belly, sex. His touch was gentle, sensual, and stimulating. Desire escalated to arousal as he skillfully teased her clitoris.

You are so beautiful, Cordelia.

So are you, Kew-in.

Returning his hands to her face, he pulled her mouth against hers.
Shall we get into the tub now?

Yes.
Though she wasn’t quite sure what he had in mind, she was more than willing to find out.

They stepped into the tub at the same time. The water felt hot, but good. The steam had warmed the room, but not enough to be comfortable. He picked up the hand-held showerhead and turned the water on low. Then, he sat and invited her to join him. When she nestled between his long legs, as before, he pressed the bubbling showerhead between hers. The feeling was incredibly pleasurable. Like underwater oral sex, only better. Why had she never thought to do this herself? As her arousal built, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against his shoulder.

Kew-in moved the spout to her breasts. As the warm water teased her nipples to attention, longing pooled hot and thick in her lower abdomen. His erection was pressed against the small of her back—a total turn-on when combined with the showerhead’s stimulating massage.

“I love the female anemone,” he said, returning the jets to her sex.

She smiled abstractedly at his interesting choice of words. “I’ll bet all storm kelpies say that.”

“You would lose that wager,” he whispered near her ear. “For I am not like my fellows.”

The bait was too tempting. Despite the sublime sensations coursing through her, she had to bite the hook. “How are you different?”

“I prefer women.”

She swallowed hard as surprise pulsed through her. “I don’t understand.”

“In my culture, we hold male beauty and love in higher esteem.” His breath caressed her ear, heightening the deliciousness of what the bubbling water was doing down below. “Do you know the story of Zeus and Ganymede?”

“Yes.”

“Well, storm kelpies are like that.”

His confession jolted her. “You’re…homosexual?”

“Not me, though I pretend to be to avoid being ostracized.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of what he’d just said—not that her brain was capable of processing much at the moment. The showerhead was rapidly pushing her toward climax, so concentrating was a bit of a challenge. What she understood was that he was straight, while his clansmen were gay, and that he pretended to be like them, which couldn’t be easy for him.

“Then don’t go back. Stay on dry land…with me.”

The words were out before she knew what she was saying. She opened her mouth, ready to take them back, but he spoke before she could formulate her reaction.