Children of the Sea 03 - Sea Lord

cupped her small ripe breasts, brushed her velvety firm nipples, explored the curve of her belly and the dangling jewel at her navel before stroking down, down, to where she was still warm, wet, and swollen from their play.
    He sucked in his breath. Perfect. She was perfect for him. She shivered and stirred as he slid a finger through her slick folds, swirling, sliding, making her wetter, hotter still. She moaned his name. He kissed her shoulder. She pushed back against him, eager, reaching. He nudged her forward, bending her over his arm. Her hand flexed, digging into his thigh. And then he slid home, sheathing himself in smooth, sleek heat. He felt her jolt as he thrust, heard her soft, panting breaths as he ground and rocked against her, hot, perfect, his .
    “ Conn. ”
    “I have you,” he assured her.
    He would never let her go.
    Her contractions took her, shook her, seized them both. He gripped her hips as she convulsed, absorbing her sweet shudders as she bit the pillow and came over and over again. He wrung her orgasm from her before he groaned and slammed himself all the way inside her, emptying himself inside her, hotly, deeply inside her.

Page 92

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Slowly the room settled. His breathing returned.
    He stroked her hip, his heart expanding in his chest. “Ask me for something.”
    She yawned and smiled all at once. “You mean something else?” Her voice was slurred.
    He smiled fiercely over her head. “Anything you want.”
    She wriggled to face him, her hair catching under her. “Do you mean it?” She sounded almost awake now. Alert.
    “Yes,” he said certainly.
    She had given him everything. Her body. Her affection. Hope for his people. There was nothing he would not give her in return.
    She fixed those great green-and-gray eyes on him and said, “I want to go home.”
    Conn’s face wiped clean of expression, becoming dark and flat as a chalkboard.
    Lucy felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold draft prying through the stones.
    “Not to stay,” she added hastily. “Just for a visit.”
    “I cannot let you go,” Conn said.
    Which sounded good, except he immediately released her and climbed out of bed. She made a grab for the covers as he stalked to the fireplace.
    Lucy eyed the smooth, strong lines of his back with frustration. “I want you to come with me. To meet my family.”
    He crouched to make up the fire. The soft gray morning light slid lovingly over the curve of his muscled haunches, the flex of his arm. “We have met,” he said in a damping voice. “I know your brother better than you do yourself.”
    “You know Dylan. Caleb is the one who raised me.”
    Yellow flames shot upward on the hearth. Conn stood and faced her, magnificently naked, superbly unselfconscious. “So?”
    She jerked her gaze from his penis to his face. Awareness of her reaction glinted in his eyes. It was another weapon in this quiet battle they waged, his experience, knowledge, and sensuality pitted against her will.
    She raised her chin. “So, where I was brought up, when you love someone, you bring them home to your family.”
    Her heart banged against her ribs.
    “Sweetheart.” Something softened in Conn’s posture and in his eyes. He looked almost . . . shaken.
    Abandoning his post by the fire, he sat beside her on the bed, his weight depressing the thick, soft feather mattress. He took her hands, this selkie male who never touched except as a prelude to sex. His gaze, his hands, enveloped her. “You must see I cannot leave Sanctuary now. Even to please you.”
    She did see.
    “Because of Gau,” she said.
    Yet an unreasonable disappointment hollowed her chest. Like any girl in love, she wanted the people she loved together around her.
    I want Conn to say he loves me back. She swallowed hard against the realization.
    He was nodding, agreeing with her for once. Maybe because she was agreeing with him.
    Funny, how that thought didn’t make her feel any better.
    “I cannot leave my people leaderless,” he said.
    As his own father had done.
    She admired Conn’s devotion to his duty and his people. But the empty feeling in her chest did not go away.
    “I could go myself,” she suggested.
    “No.”
    She knew that look. Every woman with a brother knew that look. “Just to let them know I’m all right,”
    she said.
    “They have not even noticed you are gone. Stay,” he urged, his gaze warm, his hands