Chapter 10 Ariel
Ariel
When my body lets go, it happens all at once—a bright, clean snap and then a shuddering release that ripples through every limb and leaves me boneless, open, and raw.
I’ve never felt anything like it. Not in the water, not on the shore, not in dreams. My whole body hums with aftershocks, the current of it flooding out in wave after wave.
I’m still shaking when Everett finally lifts his face from between my thighs.
His mouth is slick with my juices. He grins up at me, wild and proud, and wipes his cheek with the back of his hand.
The skin around his lips is shiny and red and alive.
The look on his face—somewhere between awe and ravenous hunger—does things to my insides that have nothing to do with anatomy and everything to do with want.
He slides up my body, dragging his mouth over my belly, my ribs, the underside of my breasts.
Each touch leaves a glistening trail that cools in the night air, prickling my skin like tiny electric shocks.
When his lips find my nipples, they're gentle at first—butterfly kisses that make me ache—then suddenly demanding, teeth grazing the sensitive peaks until a ragged gasp tears from my throat.
My body responds with a will of its own, spine arching off the sheets, fingers clutching at his hair, offering myself up like an ancient sacrifice. Every nerve ending blazes to life, hungry for sensations I never knew existed before tonight.
I want him everywhere, all at once, like waves crashing against every shore of me simultaneously.
He props himself on his elbows and kisses the hollow at the base of my throat. “You are so fucking perfect, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice muffled by skin.
I’m still learning words like “fuck.” In his mouth, they seem less like a curse and more like a compliment. A wish, a promise, a necessity.
He kisses my chin, my jaw, the place behind my ear that makes my knees try to fuse together.
Finally, his mouth lands on mine. I open to him without thinking.
This time, I taste more than just him—I taste me, salt and strange and utterly new.
The thought should embarrass me, but it doesn’t.
I want more. I deepen the kiss, pulling him closer, letting him press his weight onto me until I’m pinned and safe, small and enormous all at once.
He kisses me until the edges of the world blur. I lose track of time, of gravity, of anything that isn’t his body and mine tangled together.
When he pulls away, it’s only far enough to lay his forehead against mine. His eyes are closed. He’s breathing hard, as if he’s been running underwater.
“I need you,” he says, almost a groan. “I need to make you mine forever.”
“Forever,” I echo, and my voice doesn’t even tremble.
He rolls his hips, and his hardness presses hot and huge against the place between my thighs still throbbing from his tongue. The idea of that inside me makes something flutter and tighten in anticipation and a strange, hungry fear.
Everett shifts his weight, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers as he lines himself up with my body.
His blunt tip nudges at my slick entrance, hot and insistent against the tender flesh.
The moment stretches as I hold my breath.
My hands catch his shoulders, feeling the fine sheen of sweat there, the subtle ridge of collarbone beneath smooth skin.
He's shaking a little, a tremor that travels from his arms into his chest and down the length of his spine.
His eyes burn into mine, pupils blown wide, the green of his irises now a thin ring around bottomless black. “You're mine, Ariel.”
The way he says my name sends shivers cascading down my spine, pooling like liquid heat between my legs.
“Yours,” I breathe, the word escaping on a shudder.
My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I'm dizzy with want, every nerve ending electric and alive. I want everything, all at once. A tiny part of me is a little afraid of how completely I’ve surrendered, but I want the fear because it’s him, because his weight above me feels like an anchor in a world where I’ve been drifting too long.
He kisses me again, deeper and slower, as his hips roll forward and his cock begins to push into me. The first inch burns—there’s no other word. The stretch is so much more than I expected, more than I knew I could hold. I dig my nails into his back, my breath catching in my throat.
He stops instantly, still kissing me, breathing hard through his nose. “Breathe, little one,” he whispers. “You’re so tight. Relax. It’ll only hurt this time.”
I focus on his heartbeat thumping against my chest like a wild thing.
I let my body soften, let the tension drain from my muscles as he kisses my eyelids, my temple, my hairline.
The pain fades, replaced by a weird sense of fullness—alien, yes, but also right, like something that was supposed to be there all along.
He presses deeper, slower this time, and suddenly I feel him slide all the way in, filling me completely. It’s overwhelming yet perfect. No space left for air, for thought, only for Everett.
He holds still, trembling, his face buried in my neck. For a moment, nothing moves but the world around us.
“Are you okay?” he asks shakily.
“Only a little,” I say, and it’s true. The sharp edge is gone, replaced by a deep ache that flares into something bright every time he shifts.
Everett starts to move, gently at first. I can feel every ridge and every inch of him as the sensation builds, slowly at first. My hands roam over his back, mapping the muscles as they tense and relax with each movement. I rake my nails down his spine, and he shudders, hips bucking harder.
“Fuck, Ariel, you feel so good,” he groans.
He buries his mouth in my shoulder, biting down hard enough to mark me. The pain sparks pleasure that echoes between my legs and up my spine. The ache inside me is gone, replaced by a fullness that only makes me want more. I lift my hips, meeting each thrust, greedy for everything he can give.
I thought I’d feel small and helpless, but I don’t. I feel invincible.
He moves with me like we're caught in a current, like we’ve both forgotten how to breathe anything but each other.
Each movement sends new sparks through my body, lighting up nerves I didn’t know existed.
My legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the base of his spine.
His cock is impossibly deep, stroking places that make me whimper and cry out.
The pleasure spirals higher and tighter, and he feels it. He drops a hand between us, his thumb finding the place he sucked before, and rubs fast circles on my clitoris. The double sensation—inside and outside—makes my body tense, every muscle drawn tight as a bowstring.
“It's happening again,” I whimper as the sky fractures behind my closed eyelids, a thousand stars bursting into liquid gold that cascades down my spine. My toes curl, my back arches off the bed, and I’m suspended between worlds.
His voice cuts through the roaring in my ears, rough and commanding. “Come for me, little one. I want to feel you melt around me, want to feel every tremor when you shatter.”
And I do. I come so hard that my vision goes dark.
My body clamps down around him in rhythmic pulses that seem to originate from my very core, each contraction sending electric currents from my center to my fingertips.
His name tears from my throat—raw, desperate, unrecognizable even to my own ears.
A tidal wave of pleasure sweeps me up, tumbling me through sensations I've never known.
Heat blooms across my chest, my toes curl until they cramp, my inner walls flutter wildly around his thickness.
Everett’s not far behind. He snarls into my neck, teeth grazing the tender skin where my pulse hammers frantically.
His hips stutter in three final, brutal thrusts that seem to reach impossibly deeper.
Every ridge of his shaft pulses against my sensitive flesh, and the hot rush of his release fills me in warm spurts.
The sensation triggers another surge of bliss, this one deeper and more primal—a second wave crashing through me with such force that tears leak from the corners of my eyes.
He collapses onto me, bracing his weight on trembling forearms. For a long moment, we breathe, his heartbeat thundering against my breast, my fingers tracing the sweat-slick contours of his shoulder blades.
The air around us smells of salt and musk and something indefinably human.
He softens and slips out, leaving a warm trickle between my thighs.
Stroking my hair, Everett plants soft kisses on my forehead, cheeks, and mouth. “Are you okay?” he asks again, worry and pride tangled in his words.
I laugh a real, full-bodied laugh. “I’m more than okay.” I touch his face, trace the line of his jaw, the stubble that leaves my fingertips buzzing. “I’ve never… never felt anything like that.”
“Me neither,” he admits, nuzzling into my palm. “You own me, Ariel. I’ll never get enough of you.”
I believe him. I want to believe him forever.
We curl up together, tangled and spent, legs overlapping, his hand splayed over my belly as if he can’t bear to let go. I drift toward sleep with his warmth settling around me like a blanket.
Before I go under, he whispers, “I’ll never let you go. You’re mine now.”
And I know he’s right.
I’m his.
He’s mine.
I’m home.
Morning creeps in. Sunlight peeks through the edge of the blinds, bathing everything in a soft, diffused glow. I wake to the sound of Everett’s breath, the warmth of his arm draped over my waist, the impossible weight of blankets and bodies and all the newness pressing me into the mattress.
I keep my eyes closed for a long time, just breathing. The air smells like linen and sweat and the faint tang of yesterday’s rain. My thighs ache in ways I never imagined possible. I shift, feeling the sticky residue of last night between my legs, and flush with a mix of embarrassment and pride.
This is my body now. Not a vessel for gliding through water, but an anchor. I’m heavy, grounded, and impossibly alive.
Next to me, Everett mumbles something in his sleep and rolls closer, his chest to my shoulder, his arm tightening around me. I trace the line of his brow, the sweep of lashes, the stubble shadowing his chin. He flinches at my touch, then settles.
I let my fingers explore. The arch of his collarbone.
The dip of his throat. The pulse at the base of his throat, strong and steady.
His skin is warmer than mine. It radiates like sunlight caught in flesh.
I drag my nails over his shoulder blade, learning the shape of him, and wonder how much I missed in my old life.
How many kinds of warmth I never knew existed.
He stirs, mouth curving in a half-smile. “Good morning,” he says, his voice rough with sleep.
“Morning,” I whisper, testing the word in this new context. It’s a softer thing, less urgent than waking underwater. There’s nowhere I need to be except right here.
He opens his eyes and blinks at me, green and gold and impossibly bright. “Did you sleep okay?” he asks, brushing a strand of my hair off my cheek.
“Better than okay,” I say, and it’s true. I’ve never felt so content. Or so exhausted.
He grins, wide and boyish. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
I duck my head, unsure what to say. No one’s ever called me that before. “I’m still learning.”
He props himself up on an elbow, the sheet sliding down to reveal the line of his hip, the trail of hair leading lower. I try not to stare, but it’s like trying not to stare at a sunrise.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks gently.
I nestle into the crook of his arm, breathing in his scent. “How perfect everything is.”
I remember the weight of him inside me, the wild tumble of pleasure, the way my body took over until I couldn’t think.
He rolls on top of me, pinning me to the mattress, and the look in his eyes is pure mischief. “Want to stay here all day?” he asks, lowering his mouth to mine. “We can do whatever you want.”
I pretend to consider, but the truth is, there’s nowhere else I want to be. “Anything?” I tease.
“Anything,” he promises, kissing a path down my neck.
I sigh, content. “Then I want to stay right here with you.”