Moby

Chapter 2 #2

“Thanks?” Darla mutters, allowing me to pull her up out of the sand. And then she does something that I find strange and amusing. She hurriedly swipes at her bottom.

“What are you doing, little human?”

“Just getting the sand off my butt,” she says, as if my question is mental.

“But we are about to go into the ocean.”

“It’s reflex.”

I have the sudden and undeniable need to see her bottom caked in sand, so I let her walk ahead of me toward the serene ocean…

and my momentum grinds to a halt. She is just out of reaching distance when she strips off her sweatshirt, leaving it on the shore.

All she wears now is a black bikini, and at first, I don’t know where to look.

The strands of her strawberry blonde hair where they tickle the dimples at the base of her spine?

The delicate slopes of her shoulders. Her hips. All her parts are spectacular.

But it’s her sandy little ass cheeks that cause me to spurt come into the sand.

One long rope of milky white pumps out of me, my gaze devouring those supple buns during her strut into the water.

That naughty little jiggle of her flesh.

The secretive crevice that separates one juicy cheek from the other.

I almost drop into a crawl behind her, just so I can see her butt up close, it is so mouthwatering.

Is that where my cock goes?

Is this why I’m so drawn to her backside?

I have to bite my wrist to muffle a groan at the thought of rubbing my dick and balls around between those buns and watching them spread, watching my milk fill that crack and form a white river, my little human squirming and gasping beneath me.

“What should we talk about?” Darla asks, gliding into the water. Not splashing or complaining about the cold. Just…a graceful glide.

“I would like to know more about your leg injury,” I say, following her into the ocean, lamenting the loss of her ass when the water swallows up the sight of it.

Darla turns to face me, her expression guarded. “You noticed my injured leg?”

“I’ve noticed all of you,” I say, moving close to her out of necessity, bridging the gap between us until her head is tilted all the way back, the tiny thing.

My intention is to keep her close, in case her fragile body gets caught in an undertow or a shark gets too close.

I’m surprised when she seems a bit…mesmerized by my nearness.

“Have we met?” she whispers.

This could be my opening. I don’t take it. Too soon. “I don’t know. Have we?”

“There’s something so familiar about your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“Yes. They’re gray and…” She chews her bottom lip. “Beautiful.”

The pleasure that flushes into my chest is unexpected. “Beautiful is a word meant for women.”

“Not always.”

I grunt, annoyed at myself for enjoying her calling my eyes beautiful. “Well? Have you met me, or not?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“This meeting must not have been very memorable,” I gripe.

A dimple appears in her cheek, as if she finds my irritation amusing. Imagine that. “Do you still want to know about my leg?”

“Very much, yes.”

I want to know everything about this girl. I am annoyed that I have to wait and find out details, instead of absorbing them all at once. I want to possess more knowledge of her than anyone.

Slowly, the sparkle dulls in her eyes, and I almost beg her to change the subject, so I can watch her smile again. My human is causing quite a disruption inside of me.

Is this normal?

“My parents have brought me to Hawaii every summer, since I was a baby. Three summers ago, my jet ski collided with someone else’s and I needed emergency surgery to save my leg.

The rest of me got pretty bruised up, too, but my leg had the most damage.

” She raises her knee out of the water to show me the scars that bisect each other.

The ink that maps them like a constellation.

“I design tattoos for people with scars. That’s…

well, it’s not exactly a job yet, but I’m calling it Beautiful Scars. I designed this tattoo myself.”

I’m having a very hard time focusing on anything but the pain she must have gone through. “Does it still hurt?”

“It gets stiff. And…you probably noticed my limp.”

“Yes. It is cute.”

“Cute.”

I grunt. “Who did you collide with?”

“A drunk vacation dad.” She shrugs. “It’s not important now. I forgave him and moved on. He felt terrible.”

“I do not forgive him. I wish him a painful death.”

She observes me with startled pleasure. Then, stepping closer, she lowers her voice to a conspiratorial murmur.

“Just between us, I always found it kind of odd that we kept coming back here after the accident. I don’t think my parents know how traumatizing it was.

We passed the location of the accident today and everything.

When we were out on a whale watching boat. ”

“Whale watching, you say.”

Darla hums, smiling to herself in a way that makes me hopeful.

That she recalls our interaction and treasures it, as much as I do.

I am too curious about her feelings to refrain from asking about her experience on the boat.

How she felt about me, in my other form.

But before I can ask, an annoying male human voice rings out down the length of the beach.

“Darla?”

With a gasp, she crowds up against me, using my astonishing physique to hide, her small breasts brushing and flattening against my stomach, her palms coming to rest on my pecs.

Damn, her touch is divine. A luxury. Muscles tighten within me, right down to my loins, hoisting my cock higher.

“Oh my God, that’s Leonardo. He’s looking for me. ”

I am overcome with hunger, just feeling her breath on my chest.

Leaping lionfish.

The front of her is so smooth, her big green eyes luminous and trained on me.

For assistance in avoiding Leonardo, I assume. Isn’t that one of the main reasons I shifted? To help her avoid this odious little gremlin that thinks to marry this goddess?

I must see to her every need.

“How should I kill him, little human?”

“Not kill,” she squeaks. “Just…discourage.”

“Discourage,” I repeat. “Very well. Shall I have a talk with him?”

“Maybe there’s a better way to show him I’m just…not interested.” Her breath catches. “Would you kiss me?”

My heart knocks side to side, clumsily. “Is that a trick question?”

A wrinkle of confusion appears between her brows.

I take her by the chin, tilting her head back another inch, letting lust bleed into my expression. “It is my intention to mate you, Darla. Kissing is a given.”

She stares, blinking once, slowly. “M-mate me?”

“We will begin with kissing,” I say gruffly, lifting her out of the water, making her tuck her injured leg gently into my waist. “I will massage your injured leg while our mouths are mating, so it doesn’t get stiff.

” I tilt my hips and watch her pupils expand in the moonlight.

“I’m stiff enough for both of us, Darla. ”

“I noticed.” To my delight and astonishment, she leans closer, burying her nose in my throat and inhaling, rubbing her mouth against my unruly pulse.

“I can’t figure out why I’m so comfortable with you.

You’re a naked stranger on the beach. I didn’t even drink the glass of wine my mother let me order at dinner.

It tasted gross. So I can’t be drunk. And did I mention I’m a virgin?

” She moans as my palms roughen the ripe flesh of her ass, my shaft pulsing, elongating over the supple quality of those soft, tight cheeks.

My fucking obsession, this butt. “I’m a virgin and you’re so much bigger than me. Is this…okay? How old are you?”

I’m so lost in the weight of her, the exquisite feel of her curves against my steel, I don’t consider my answer. “I don’t know. We don’t count these things where I am from.”

“Where are you from?”

Fuck. “Far away.”

“Like…Florida?”

“Yes. Florida.”

Her puzzlement is interrupted by another shout of her name by that pipsqueak. “Darla?”

“I do not like him saying your name.” Possessiveness rises inside of me like the tide. “I want to be alone, so I can take off this bathing suit, find your hole and—”

“Virgin, Moby.”

“What is a virgin?” I growl through my teeth, my tongue bathing her neck. Climbing to her ear. All while I tug, tug, tug her little sex up against my erection.

She hides her beautiful face in my neck. “I’ve never been with a man.”

“Never been mated?” I ask, holding my breath.

“No.”

Possessiveness rules me instantly. It blackens my vision and tears my stomach apart with need. “And this pipsqueak thinks he’ll be the one?”

“That’s why I need you to kiss me.”

No more words are exchanged. My mouth drags across and upward, molding our lips together while she whimpers.

We absorb each other’s breath and again, I move on instinct, because I’ve never kissed a human, obviously, but my body knows, my heart and brain and soul knows damn well that my tongue belongs in that hot, moist little mouth, so that’s where it goes, raking up and back, revolving around her shy tongue until she pulls on my hair and cries out, letting me take the kiss deeper, my long fingers tucking into the back of her bathing suit bottom, gripping her bottom.

Exploring the place in between with a slow swipe of my fingertip, my cock shooting up straighter than an arrow when I find a breach.

A tight one. Oh, fucking hell! DEAR GOD.

I can’t even imagine the pressure that hole would fashion around my cock.

How her butt would shake every time I pounded into her.

My mouth consumes her with an intensity I’m trying to temper, but I can’t. Wanting to soothe her, to remind her that I might be needful, but I’m also thoughtful, I remove my right hand from her backside and massage her scarred leg, my heart giving a mighty jolt when she mewls her gratitude.

“That feels nice.”

“Good.”

“Darla!” Pipsqueak exclaims from the beach—and it’s obvious he’s finally spotted us, and I don’t give a fuck.

In the ocean, creatures do not bother with privacy when mating, and I would gladly give her my sperm her right here and now to drive him away once and for all, away from my Darla, but Darla buries her hot face in my neck and that tells me she doesn’t want an audience when we rut for the first time.

“Darla, who is that man?” Leonardo yells.

“You come up to this beach right this instant. Your daddy is looking for you!”

“Daddy. He means your father?”

“Yes,” she whispers, still sipping at my lips, like she can’t help it. I like that notion very much. “But I’m eighteen, which no one seems to remember. And I don’t want to answer to my daddy anymore.”

“Who do you want to answer to?”

“Myself.”

I use my thumb to keep her knee from stiffening, rubbing the scarred flesh in circles. “Perhaps you need a Daddy for some things. Like keeping away unworthy boys and making sure this little mouth gets kissed right.”

“That’s what you’re doing,” she breathes, awed.

“Then maybe I’m Daddy from now on.”

She slow blinks. A blush dances along her cheekbones.

“Darla!” Leonardo whines impatiently. “Who are you with out there?”

“Me, Leonardo,” I roar, stomping toward where he stands on the shore, hands on hips. I’m still holding Darla in my arms, because that is where she belongs, but I do splay my hand and hold it over her butt. That’s a view only I have the privilege of seeing. “Do you have something to say, puny boy?”

“Puny—” His mouth snaps closed when I get closer to the shore, illuminated by the moon above. First, he stammers out a curse over my height. Then his eyes track lower to my cock where it drips with ocean water beneath Darla’s tight ass, his eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Holy shit.”

“Go back to the luau, Leonardo. Keep your mouth shut. And leave a man to do his work.”

He doesn’t just go. He runs, tripping once on a piece of driftwood, before getting up again and sprinting for the distant bonfire.

“I do not think you’ll have to worry about him again, little human.” I nip at her bottom lip, catching and tugging, memorizing the way she sucks in a breath. “Only me.”

She giggles, and it’s a sound that makes my balls squeeze like they’re locked in a giant fist. “Maybe. Maybe not. But you definitely just bought me a free night, at the very least.” She ducks her head to hide her blush.

“If we can figure out a way to make it to my room without anyone noticing that you’re naked, maybe we could watch a movie? ”

“Mate,” I growl into her neck, stooping forward and bouncing her against my lap. “I must fuck you, Darla. I am in agony.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready. Can we cuddle and kiss? And see how things go?”

I’m very surprised how much making demands on her causes me shame. Could I rip off her bathing suit, pin her down on the beach and ram my lust up between her perfect legs? Easily. I would barely have to use an ounce of my strength. It would rid me of this aching stiffness, for at least a time.

But I want her happy so much, I’m willing to consider this pain.

No, when I grunt an affirmative, that we can kiss and cuddle, she smiles at me with dimples, and I know I’d live with the pain for centuries.

Anything for my Darla.

But I will soon find out that I’ve overestimated my abilities to resist her.