The Sea Siren

Chapter Fourteen

Antony

Fuck.

I wasn't prepared for how fiercely she, this impenetrable viper, would drink in my advances, her mouth opening wide to accept my tongue, her hands fisting my hair to the point of pain.

I say it over and over in my mind.

Fuck.

Fuck.

What the fuck are you doing?

It darkens my thoughts as her teeth sink into my bottom lip, pressing to my cheek while I suck in air before we gravitate back to each other, even harder than before.

I'm out of my damn mind. I have been since I followed her into this rainforest. Maybe it was our first supper. Possibly even as she says—in Belmur, the first moment I laid eyes on her.

Am I really so shaken? So bewitched?

I feel lured, overwhelmed with need I cannot ignore. Need I don't want to ignore.

She's hot to the touch, every part of her—and my hands are quick to discover that. She moans as my hand abandons the back of her neck, guided down under the water. It's addicting, the noises she makes, as if they're involuntary while my hands learn her body.

It's been years. Years for me since I allowed myself the pleasure.

Talia was my torment, the woman who'd consume my thoughts at night. My younger self focused on war for distraction—and now, in the present, my duty to my family. Rayan is enough of a scoundrel for the both of us.

But her round backside, which I take ravenously into my hands, lifting her, tilting her until she's flush against my virality, the feel of her womanly warmth is enough to damn myself, enough to break my own rules.

"We have to stop," she exhales, gasping and taking my lips in the same breath.

I can't feel the deep wounds scraped against my chest, not even when her own nails tease the ridge of my abdomen under the water, easing downward. Tensing, feeling the breeze battering my back, I shift, taking her with me.

Our mouths don't disconnect, not even when I guide us through the fall, until we're concealed by the mass of water filling this pool. The crystals no longer interest me. Just her.

My lips, hot and wet, leave her in a rush, brushing across her cheek, her jaw, underneath to her throat and down to the curve of her breasts. She cradles my neck when my lips sink into the peak, sucking and nibbling her until I reach her nipple. Dark pink, round, mouthwateringly hard from arousal, I suck her flesh in, unbearably overcome by her natural essence.

She has to be a witch, some siren creature. I can't imagine anything else.

Not when I want her this much.

My judgement means nothing, not in this moment.

I pull away, teeth gritted, searching for her gaze. There is equal abandonment in her as there is in me and with that, I grab her face, forcing her to look up at me, to prepare for my mouth. I swear, I see wildness in her eyes as my thumb tests her lip, dragging it down, watching her mouth fall open.

Again—fuck.

Tensing, pressing her up to the wall, I lower my face to hers.

"Vivian!"

Our eyes open at once, freed from this destructively enchanting curse, her hand clamping over my mouth as we hear the voice of her first-mate. Her female right-hand, not far from here. Maybe a few yards. Other voices are calling her name as well.