Chapter 8
T hey settled into the small hollow where the kelp stalks formed a natural curtain, filtering the light into soft golden haze. The distant clicks of the rivals had faded to a low murmur, giving them a fragile pocket of peace.
Klari didn't waste time. He kept one arm loosely around Greta's waist while his powerful tail curled slowly around her lower back, the tip brushing lazily against the base of her own tail.
His cock was fully hard now — thick, ridged, and flushed a deeper blue — pressing hot and heavy against her hip.
His tail tightened possessively around her waist, pulling her closer until her breasts brushed his chest. Greta's own tail twitched hard in response before she forced it still.
"So basically," she said, voice tight with sarcasm, "I have to let you fuck me three times or I drown. That's the grand prize?"
He leaned in, lips brushing the sensitive spot just below her gill slits. "And right now… every instinct I have is te lling me to pin you right here and start earning that first claim."
Greta's breath hitched. She could feel her own body responding — heat pooling low despite her mind screaming at her to pull away.
She was losing the battle with her tail again.
Greta's back pressed lightly against the swaying golden kelp stalks that formed their makeshift shelter. The hollow felt intimate, almost too intimate, with the fronds brushing against her skin like curious fingers.
She narrowed her eyes at Klari. "You keep saying you're trying to explain the rules, but your hands and that tail of yours have a completely different agenda."
Klari didn't deny it. His tail remained curled around her waist, the strong, flexible length slowly stroking up and down her lower back in lazy, possessive strokes. His cock stood thick and rigid between them, the ridged head brushing against her stomach with every subtle shift of the current.
"I am explaining," he said, voice rough with restraint. "But being this close to you… it's difficult. Your scent, your heat, the way your body looks in this form — it's driving me insane."
Greta let out a short, breathy trill of laughter. "Oh, so now it's my fault you're walking around with a massive hard-on? That's convenient."
His amber eyes darkened. One large hand slid up her side, thumb tracing the delicate edge of a scale just below her breast. "It's not convenient.
It's torture." His tail gave her waist a gentle squeeze, pulling her even closer so his erection pressed more firmly against her.
"I can feel how warm you are. I can feel your tail wanting to wrap around mine even while you fight it. "
Greta's cheeks burned under her pink scales. Her own tail betrayed her again, the tip curling instinctively around his thigh before she yanked it back with effort.
"Stop reading my tail," she muttered. "And stop touching me like you're already halfway through claim number one."
Klari leaned in until his lips hovered just above hers, his breath warm against her skin. "I'm trying to be patient, Griita?—"
“And stop calling me that!”
“But every second I don't claim you feels like I'm fighting the tide itself."
The air between them crackled with tension. Greta's heart hammered against her ribs as she stared up at him, caught between the urge to push him away and the growing, traitorous desire to pull him closer.
The kelp hollow felt smaller with every passing second.
Klari's hand slid slowly up Greta's side, fingertips tracing the delicate ridge of scales along her ribcage. His thumb brushed the underside of her breast, not quite touching where she was most sensitive, but close enough to make her breath hitch.
"You're trembling," he murmured, voice low and clicking. His tail remained curled around her waist, the thick, powerful length slowly stroking along the curve of her hip. "Are you afraid?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Greta shot back, but her voice came out breathier than she intended. "I'm trembling because I'm trapped in a kelp closet with a seven-foot blue shark-man who's been sporting a hard-on since the moment we met."
Klari's cock twitched visibly between them, thick and flushed, the ridged head nudging against her lower belly.
He didn't pull away. Instead, he let his free hand drift lower, palm flattening against the small of her back, pressing her closer until there was almost no space left between their bodies.
"I can't help it," he admitted, eyes half-lidded. "Your scent changed the moment we entered this hollow. Sweeter. Warmer." His tail gave a slow, possessive squeeze, the tip brushing teasingly against the base of her own tail. "And your tail keeps reaching for mine even when your mouth says no."
"It’s a traitor," she muttered under her breath, then louder: "Look, if you're going to explain the rules, explain them. Stop trying to seduce me with your magic tail and your very obvious erection."
Klari let out a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated through the water. "I'm not trying to seduce you, Griita."
“What did I say about calling me that?”
He leaned in, lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear. "I'm barely holding myself back from claiming you right here against these stalks."
The heat between them thickened. Greta's pulse thrummed in her throat as she stared up at him, caught in the charged space between resistance and raw, unwelcome desire.
Her tail curled around his again.
This time she didn't pull it away.
Klari's markings pulsed brighter, shifting from soft teal to a hungry, glowing cyan that lit the kelp hollow around them.
Greta could feel every throb of his cock pressed tight against her stomach — hot, heavy, and unmistakably hard. The thick ridge along the underside pulsed in time with his heartbeat, the head already slick with a thin trail of precum that mingled with the water between them .
"You're shaking again," he whispered, voice rough. His tail tightened around her waist, the powerful muscle flexing as it slowly stroked up and down her lower back.
"Shut up," Greta breathed, but there was no real bite left in it. Her own tail had completely betrayed her now — curled snugly around his thigh, the tip stroking lazy circles against smooth blue skin. She tried to yank it back, but the damn thing refused to obey.
Klari's hand slid higher, cupping the side of her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple in a slow, deliberate circle. "Your body wants this, Griita. Even if your mind is still fighting."
"I said,” and her eyes were shut now, “don't call me that. And don't act like this is some romantic underwater date. You're hard as a rock because the game is turning you into a horny shark, not because I'm special."
He let out a low, strained chuckle. "You are special.
Your scent alone is making it almost impossible to think.
" His hips shifted slightly, dragging the thick length of his cock along her belly in a slow, teasing glide.
"I can feel how warm you are here…" His hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing just above the apex of her thighs.
"I can feel how wet you're getting, even in the water. "
Greta's breath stuttered. Heat flooded her core, sharp and undeniable. Her tail squeezed tighter around his thigh before she managed to loosen it with sheer force of will.
"Back off," she warned, voice shaky. "Or… Or I swear I'll… I’ll bite that tail off."
Klari's eyes darkened with raw hunger, but he didn't pull away. His markings flared brighter than ever.
"I'm trying," he rasped. "Gods help me… I'm trying."