Children of the Sea 03 - Sea Lord

lips, uncomfortably aware of the tenderness in her belly, the wetness of his semen between her thighs. He had pushed himself so firmly, so deeply inside her, she was afraid she couldn’t tell anymore where he ended and she began.
    “Uh-huh. And do you make a lifetime commitment to everybody you have sex with?”
    He frowned. “Of course not. I am selkie.”
    She swallowed. “Well, I’m human. And humans take time to get to know one another before they . . .”
    “Fuck?” he suggested very softly.
    He was angry, she realized. Hurt? But that was ridiculous.

Page 73
    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    “Make a commitment,” she said.
    “You said ‘yes,’” he reminded her. “In words, this time.”
    She felt her face turn red. “I would have said anything you wanted to have you inside me.”
    His nostrils flared. His eyes were deep and dark. “Then—”
    She was miserably embarrassed. But she was even more determined to finish, to make him understand.
    “I would have done anything. Given you anything.” She took another deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “And that scares the crap out of me.”
    He frowned. “Did I hurt you?”
    “What?”
    He examined her face. “I was rough. Did I hurt you?”
    She was braced for his impatience. His unexpected consideration shook her heart. “I’m fine. You were .
    . .” Relentless. Overwhelming. “Incredible. But it’s not enough.”
    He gave her a long, considering look. His mouth curved with wicked intent. “I can give you more.”
    All the air left her lungs. Desire pinched her breasts, stabbed her womb. The temptation to give up, to give in to him, almost overpowered her.
    She curled her legs under her and sat, smoothing her skirt over her thighs so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “Last night you accused me of not having the courage to take what you offered me.”
    “I was angry.”
    “You were right. I am afraid. I’m afraid I’ll give myself to you, and I’ll be left with nothing.”
    “Lucy.” He laid his hand over hers, stilling her restless picking at the fabric. His hand was warm. Her heart turned over in her chest. “I gave you my pledge.”
    “Because of the prophecy.”
    “I gave you my pelt.”
    “I don’t know what that means.” Which only proved her point. “We’re too different, don’t you see?
    There’s too much I don’t know about you. That we don’t know about each other.”
    Conn released her hand and left the bed. She felt his loss like the pain of a missing limb, as if something warm and vital had been severed. The mantle of the fireplace framed the proud set of his shoulders.
    Today he wore gray velvet and lace at his throat. He looked like a portrait of an aristocrat in a book of eighteenth-century paintings.
    Or like a king.
    “The selkie are the children of the sea,” he said with his back to her. “We take our life and our power from the ocean. A selkie who gives up his pelt gives his power and life into another’s keeping.” He turned, tall, stern, and forbidding as ever. “And a human who takes a selkie pelt holds that power over its owner. As your father held your mother.”
    Lucy stared at him, a terrible suspicion rooting in her brain. “You mean, against her will.”
    He did not answer.
    Her heart pounded as the foundations of her world rocked again. “My father loved my mother.”
    Conn’s face was without expression. “He would say so.”
    She didn’t know how to respond. What would it mean if all these years, all her father’s choices, hadn’t been governed by grief at all, but by guilt?
    “And she . . .” Lucy’s voice shook shamefully.
    “Cared for him, I believe. For a time.”
    “Then Caleb . . . And Dylan . . .”
    “Margred made the choice to live as human for your brother’s sake. As Dylan chooses to stay with Regina.”
    But Maggie loved Caleb. No one who saw them together could doubt it. And Dylan was devoted to Regina.
    Lucy’s heart beat faster. “What does that have to do with you and me?”
    Conn’s face became, if possible, even colder and more remote. “I took your freedom. I gave you mine.
    What more do you want of me?”
    Her throat ached.

Page 74
    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Your love.
    But of course she couldn’t say that. He had given her what he had. All he could. Could it be enough? She didn’t want to be like the little girl in the fairy