Children of the Sea 03 - Sea Lord

arousal rubbed the juncture of her thighs. She struggled to open her legs, to capture his, but he straddled her, his knees on the cloak, pulling the wool fabric tight across her body. She was trapped and itchy.
    Desperate.
    Panting, she struggled to throw him off. He rose up— not enough, not nearly enough —and grabbed her hips and turned her facedown into the mattress.
    Um, no. Not like this. He was too strong. It was too much. She was wary of his total dominance, and even more alarmed by her own response.
    In any contest of passion, she would lose. Had lost already.
    And she didn’t even know the stakes.
    She twisted to face him.
    But he pinned her down, his arms enclosing her arms, his thighs restraining her thighs, his strength surrounding her. With one hand, he pulled up on her cloak and her skirts, bunching the material around her waist. The wash of cold air on her bared legs was distraction and relief. His hands shaped her bottom, measured the span of her hips, tugged the elastic of her panties down her thighs. She shivered, open to him, vulnerable and wet and open. She turned her face on the pillow as he reached under her, as his long-fingered hand splayed over her belly, toyed a moment with her piercing, dipped into her navel.
    His touch moved down, slow, seeking, deliberate. She moaned and then bit her lip, the pain a tiny punctuation point to pleasure.

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    He was so close behind her, hot and solid behind her, his body controlling her body, his hands compelling her response. She was drunk, dizzy with the mingled, musky odors of his sweat and her arousal. She felt him shift to adjust his clothing, and trembled in anticipation. Her breasts tightened. Her boundaries blurred.
    His knee shoved her legs wider apart. She writhed. He stroked, his hand teasing, skimming over her slick, sensitive flesh. Swaying on her knees, she ground against him, a willing accomplice in her own surrender.
    He kissed her nape.
    She made a muffled sound of frustration into the pillow and bit him. His arm. Like an animal.
    His breath was hot in her ear. “You want this.”
    She felt the hair at his groin, the smooth, hard jut of his cock rubbing the crack of her buttocks. He took himself in hand, positioning himself, sliding the thick head against her wet opening. She melted for him.
    Moaned. His skin was hot and silky. Her womb softened and clenched.
    She panted and tipped her hips upward, helpless to deny him. “Yes.”
    “Then take it.” He thrust. “Take me.”
    Deeper.
    “Take my seed.”
    Her body jolted. Her mind rebelled. But mind and body were taken up, taken over, by the feel of him inside her, pumping inside her, filling her to bursting. She was blinded, breathless, caught in a current she could not control. She cried out and convulsed, her orgasm ripped from her, tumbling her over and over like a shell trapped by the tide. Wave after wave racked her, wrecked her, her contractions milking his until he plunged, until he shuddered and groaned and released deep inside her.
    His big body sprawled over hers, damp. Spent.
    Lucy closed her eyes, absorbing the pounding of his heart, the sound of his labored breathing.
    “Now,” Conn said, his voice deep with satisfaction, “you will stay.”

12
    “UM.” LUCY’S MIND FLOATED SOMEWHERE ABOVE the bed, anchored only by the knot at
    her heart. Her head still reeled from the force of Conn’s possession, from the fullness of her own surrender. Her body felt swollen and achy. Loose, as if Conn had taken her apart and put her back together without using the manufacturer’s instructions. “I didn’t say I would stay with you.”
    The smell of sex, sharp and musky, hung in the air and clung to her skin. The covers were a tangled mess.
    So was she. And Conn, instead of rolling over and falling asleep or jumping in the shower and out the door, seemed content to lie beside her, his hand resting lightly, possessively on her hip, his gaze on her face.
    “I do not require the words. This is enough.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the back of his knuckles brushing her cheek. She almost wept at the tenderness of the gesture. Unexpected from him.
    Unprecedented for her. “This is better.”
    Her heart kicked in her chest. Her mouth was dry. “This doesn’t solve anything.”
    He lowered his hand. His dark brows drew together. “I gave you my seed.”
    Yes. She moistened her dry