Chapter 17
Maelis
My palm was damp against his – part seawater, part nerves – but I didn’t let go. My fingers tightened around Cerban’s. “Come on,” I said quietly. “Before someone changes their mind.”
We walked out together, his height dwarfing mine, the corridor hushed around us.
No one stopped us; no one dared. The other alien, Rainse, had given me a wink, unless I'd imagined that. My heart pounded, a drumbeat in my ears. I had no idea what would happen next. I only knew I wasn’t going to let Cerban be taken from me and shut away like some dangerous animal.
It took a small eternity to get to his room. I kept expecting someone to step in our way and stop us. He stepped in first, then turned, closing the door behind me. The room was dim, the shutters drawn, the air heavy with salt and his scent. My heart beat against my ribs.
For a moment we just stood there, staring at each other, the silence stretching taut. His gills fluttered once. I dropped my bag on the floor and stepped closer until I could feel the heat of his body radiating through the thin damp fabric of the oversized linen dress I'd put on in a hurry.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, not sure which part I was apologising for – the secrecy, the test, the kiss on the beach. “I didn’t mean to make things harder for you.”
“You didn’t,” he said softly. “You saved me.”
He lifted a hand and traced his thumb along my cheek, leaving a faint streak of salt water. The touch was so gentle it undid me. All the tension, all the fighting and rules and fear melted away until there was nothing left but this pull between us, tidal and unstoppable.
I licked my lips. “Cerban…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
He inhaled sharply, the sound almost a growl. “Then tell me to stop now. Because once I start, Maelis, I won’t stop.”
I didn’t tell him to stop. I closed the space between us and kissed him again.
This time it wasn’t tentative. His arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the floor, his mouth deep and sure on mine.
The taste of him was salt and heat, the ocean and something entirely his.
My fingers slid over his shoulders, over the slick strands of algae trailing from his skin, until I was gripping hard, pulling him closer.
He broke the kiss just enough to look at me. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against my lips.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”
His answering smile was feral and tender all at once. “Then I’ll show you what it means when a finman claims his mate.”
He kissed me again, slow this time, exploratory, his hands skimming down my back and along my hips until they found the hem of my dress.
I shivered as he began to move it up, inch by inch, the cool air meeting my heated skin.
He pulled the dress over my head in one smooth motion, leaving me in nothing but damp panties.
But I didn't feel self-aware. I just wanted more of him.
I pressed against him, feeling the hard planes of his chest through the damp wrap, the way his body trembled as if he were holding himself in check.
“Easy,” I whispered. “We have time.”
“Not enough,” he murmured, kissing down the side of my throat. “But I’ll make every moment count.”
I arched into him, the last of my defences falling away. The scent of the sea, the sound of his breath, the weight of his hands on my hips – it was all-consuming. For once I wasn’t thinking about rules or tests or Pam or the IA. Just us. Just now.
He lifted me easily, carrying me toward the bed, his mouth never leaving mine. When he laid me down, his eyes were dark and bright all at once, like deep water catching the sun. “Maelis,” he said again, as if my name was an oath. “Mine.”
“Yours,” I whispered back, pulling him down to me.
The dim light turned the beads of water on his skin into scattered jewels. I reached up and touched one, letting it roll down my fingertip. He watched me do it, breathing hard, as though that tiny gesture was the most intimate thing in the universe.
“I keep thinking this isn’t real,” I whispered.
His thumb brushed over my lower lip. “It is,” he said. “You’re real. We are.”
He bent down, kissing me again, slower this time. Everything about him was careful, reverent. The weight of his body pressed into mine, solid and warm, and I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest.
My fingers slid along his shoulder blades to where skin turned into algae-like sheets. Greenskin, he'd called it. Gingerly, I traced it, admiring just how smooth and silky it felt.
A low sound rumbled in his throat – not a word, not quite a growl, but something that made heat bloom deep in my stomach. I drew another slow line across his chest. The movement of his greenskin followed me, shimmering faintly in the half-light.
“Maelis…” His voice was rough, strained. “You have no idea what that does to me.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing unevenly. “You’re touching more than skin,” he said. “That’s part of me… everything I feel moves through it. And if I didn't know already that you're my mate, the reaction of my greenskin would tell me for sure.”
I rose to meet him, our mouths finding each other again, slower and deeper this time. The warmth of his body surrounded me, the rhythm of his breathing matching my own.
His lips left mine only to blaze a path lower, across my jaw, down the line of my throat. Each kiss made me arch, made my pulse pound harder against his mouth. His hands explored me slowly, reverently, as though memorising every inch of bare skin.
I trembled when his mouth reached the swell of my breast. He paused, looking up, giving me the chance to stop him.
I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was already lost to the feeling of him – the heat of his breath, the subtle rasp of his greenskin against my ribs, the way his touch asked for nothing but made me want to give everything.
When his lips finally closed around my nipple, I almost stopped breathing. His tongue circled slowly, deliberately, and something low and helpless escaped my throat.
I curled my fingers into his hair – soft and damp from the sea – and held him close. His mouth was warm, his touch reverent, like I was the first and only woman he’d ever worshipped.
“Cerban…” I whispered, the word barely sound, only need.
He hummed in response, the vibration going straight through me. His greenskin responded to my rising heartbeat, the strands moving like sea-grass in a current, brushing against me as though echoing his intent.
He lingered there, his mouth closing again around my puckered nipple with aching slowness. His tongue teased in lazy circles, coaxing more gasps from my lips, until my back arched of its own accord.
Pleasure coiled low in my belly, sharp and golden. I’d never been touched like this before – not with such focus, such single-minded reverence.
His other hand slid up to cup my other breast, thumb brushing across the sensitive peak as his mouth continued its unhurried worship. I couldn’t stay still. My hips shifted restlessly beneath him, my breath shallow and fast.
“Please,” I whispered. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for – more? Less? To stop before I shattered?
He lifted his head, just long enough to look me in the eye. “Tell me what you need,” he murmured, voice low and rough as distant surf.
“You,” I said. “All of you.”
He smiled – all warmth and hunger mixed with sharp teeth – and then he kissed the centre of my chest, just above my pounding heart, before beginning his slow descent.
His mouth moved lower, over the dip of my sternum, along my ribs. The feel of his greenskin brushing my stomach – those living strands shifting with my every breath – made me tremble all over again.
He paused at the waistband of my panties, the barest whisper of his breath making me dizzy. His hands curled around my hips, grounding me as the world tilted. I was ready to come, and he hadn't even touched me down there yet. No man had ever had this effect on me.
He hovered at the edge of my panties, his breath warm against the thin fabric. One of his hands slid down to stroke my hip, the other splaying across my stomach to keep me grounded.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice a tremor of restraint. “Or tell me to go on.”
I couldn’t speak. I nodded once, my fingers sliding into his damp hair, urging him lower.
With slow, deliberate movements he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and drew the fabric down, inch by inch, until the last barrier between us was gone.
The cool air of the room kissed my newly bared skin, followed immediately by the heat of him – his hands, his breath, the living strands of his greenskin brushing against my thighs like a tide coming in.
He pressed a reverent kiss just above my hip, then another lower, each one a promise.
I gasped; my body arched into his touch.
He kissed lower, his breath warm and reverent against my skin.
My thighs trembled as he settled between them, every brush of his soft lips sending sparks skittering along my nerves.
I gasped when he found my clit – light at first, as though he was still worshipping, still learning the shape of my need. His hands gripped my hips, steadying me, coaxing me open as he traced slow, deliberate paths with his tongue.
The world narrowed to sensation: the heat of his mouth, the pressure building inside me, the way my name sounded when he groaned it softly against me.
Pleasure gathered low in my belly, tidal and consuming.
My fingers curled in his hair, holding him there as he unravelled me completely – inch by inch, breath by breath.
His tongue did things to me that should not have been possible.
I lost myself in the pure, primal pleasure as he guided me to my shattering, and I screamed and begged and screamed for more.
My body bowed beneath him, lost to the rhythm he set – patient, worshipful, unrelenting.
He read every sigh, every tremor, as if my pleasure were a language only he could speak.
When he finally drew back, his lips brushing my inner thigh in a lingering kiss, I reached for him instinctively, not ready for the absence of his mouth.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed, my voice ragged with wanting.
"Don't worry," he promised. "I'm just getting started."
He got up to his full height and slowly unclasped the leather wrap around his waist. My breath stuttered as I focused on what had been hidden from me until now. I had wondered, admittedly, what a finman cock would look like.
He was… magnificent.
Not like a human. Not at all. His cock was a rich shade of kelp green at the base, deepening toward an oceanic blue at the head, which glistened like wet stone.
Thick ridges pulsed just beneath the surface, moving in a wave-like rhythm that made my thighs clench instinctively.
That would feel incredible inside me. Below, there were three balls instead of two, their skin smooth and tight, framed by faint lines that reminded me of the ripples left by tidepools.
He curled his fingers around himself with ease, the skin beneath shifting under his touch, almost like it responded to his desire. My mouth went dry.
“I…” I tried to find words, but they scattered like startled fish.
His grin was feral and gentle all at once. “Do you like what you see?”
“You look…” I got to my knees and reached for him, unable to stop myself. “Beautiful.”
He shuddered at the touch, the ridges beneath his skin fluttering against my palm.
For just a moment, reason and rationality returned to my feverish mind. “Do you have a condom? Or…”
“There is no risk of pregnancy,” he said slowly.
“Finboys are given a pill when they reach puberty that makes them sterile until the time they are chosen by the Matriarchs to have a mate. Then the process is reversed with yet another drug. I have not been given it. And I am clean. I won’t be passing on anything to you, even if it were possible between our two species. ”
There was a lot to unpack. And we would, at some point. But not now. I licked my lips, staring at his gorgeous cock. He cupped my face with one broad hand, eyes dark and luminous at the same time. “Maelis…” he murmured, a warning and a plea all at once.
“I want to taste you,” I whispered back, my voice shaking with more than just desire.
For a moment he stayed very still, his thumb brushing my lip as if to anchor himself. Then he let his hand fall away, his body taut with restraint, as I leaned closer, exploring him with my mouth the way I had with my hands – slowly, reverently, like discovering a secret.
He groaned, the sound low and raw, his greenskin shivering beneath my touch as though alive, reacting to every stroke, every breath. My name spilled from his lips in a broken whisper, and the world shrank to the warmth of his body and the taste of salt and ocean on my tongue.