Chapter Thirteen Bedtime
I have a long, hot shower while Mercer puts Zack to bed. I hear the low rumble of his voice, the sweet layering of his deep laugh over Zack’s little giggles.
As I lotion my legs after shaving them—a daily thing now that we’re beach adjacent—I hear Mercer singing.
“Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing.
Onward, the sailors cry!
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Loud the winds hows, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclaps rend the air.
Baffled our foes stand on the shore.
Follow they will not dare.”
My heart does crunches in my chest, burning, throbbing squeezes that aren’t because of the pizza. Mercer’s voice fades, but as I peep out of my room, I can hear his bass murmur in the nightlight-lit room. “Good night, bonnie boy. My lad, born to be king.”
“What’s a foe?”
“An enemy. The bad guy.”
“The little boy had bad guys after him?”
“Some say so. But you’ll never have any bad guys after you. Not with your mother and me here to protect you.”
“I know.”
“Sleep, bonnie boy.”
“Love you.”
My heart crashes into my ribs and holds.
Mercer’s voice is thick with pride and maybe tears. “Love you, too.”
When he steps into the hall, he pauses, head resting against the door, shoulders working. His tentacles writhe silently, an emotional thermometer I’m still learning to interpret.
“Mercer?” I whisper.
He whirls, his tentacles thunking against the baseboards of the hall.
“Sorry! I heard you singing. That was beautiful. I’ve never heard that one before.”
“It’s an old Scottish lullaby. Calder and I have Greek and Celtic ancestry. Our mothers sang that to us. I imagine he sings it to his boys.” He swallows, and his eyes glint in the dim light. “I suppose I wanted to try it on my boy, even if he’s not really mine.”
Something in me, probably that aching, burning, exhausted heart that’s tired of men who play games, of men who walk away from their sons, bursts. I march the few steps across the hall and hop up into his arms, knowing full well some part of Mercer, tentacle or arms, will catch me.
He does, his arms locking around my waist with a surprised gasp as I kiss him like I’m choosing him over my last breath.
I am, in a way. This is my last gasp of fear, of fighting to be “independent” from the bad man. It’s my first kiss as a new person, a woman who realizes choosing a man—or monster—like Mercer isn’t a mistake.
“I still need time,” I whisper between desperate, hungry kisses. “But not as much as I thought. I want you with us, Mercer. I want... I don’t want to lose you, but I’m still in shock that I found you in the first place.”
Mercer nods, speechless. “You’ve found me. You are mine, I am yours. From the first second you kissed me, I saw the future, Madelyn. My future—and it belonged to you.”
For a guy who claims he never used to say much, he rocks a romantic speech. I arch my shoulder back towards my bedroom door—and for the first time, Mercer seems to notice what I’m wearing—a faded blue bathrobe with nothing underneath.
“Put me to bed. And stay the night?” I ask.
Mercer nods. “If you want. We don’t have to do anything but sleep. You’ve had a terrible shock.”
“And a wonderful one. The right guy is here. With me and my little boy. You love him?”
Mercer nods. “More than I understood a being could love.”
“Yes. Yes, that’s what it’s like when you’re a parent,” I explain, and my eyes overflow.
“Oh, love, please don’t cry.”
“I have to. Do you know... Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to share this feeling with someone?
I mean, my parents get it; they have me, but this is different.
Sharing your child with someone and believing someone can love them as much as you do.
.. No, I’m probably not there yet, but to understand that you are starting to love him like I do, or like a parent does.
..” I trail off, blinking back tears and giggling at the same time.
“It’s something I hoped would magically kick in with Eli—and it didn’t.
He made damn sure of it. Then there’s you—you made damn sure it did happen.
You worked for it from the first second you saved him.
You called him your junior lifeguard and honorary kraken.
You worked to get into our lives—and oh, my God. I want you somewhere else.”
“I love being in your life—and I cannot wait to be in every single spot you want me. But it doesn’t have to be tonight. Do you know what it is like for me just to be wanted in your bed?” Mercer’s eyes flutter closed for a second, and when they open, they’re much darker, and the gleam is different.
“I’m guessing it’s good.”
“Let me show you what an understatement that is,” Mercer growls, and whisks me back into my bedroom, tentacles flicking the door shut behind us.
Her bathrobe is only held closed by a flimsy cotton cord, stripped away with one pull.
Naked in the yellow-white light of a single bedside lamp, Madelyn gasps and tries to cover herself, but I’m quicker.
My tentacles shoot out to lift her and bring her to my chest. “Don’t you dare hide this perfect body from me,” I warn.
“Perfect?” Madelyn makes a nervous clicking sound in her throat, and there’s panic in her eyes.
“Perfect,” I repeat, a rumble in my voice that usually only comes with anger. This time, it’s desire—and fury at the absent Eli, who disrespected this paradise of flesh.
My God, she’s so soft. Her breasts are full, perfect handfuls for my large palms to cup and revel in.
They hang in gentle swoops, with hard, crinkled nipples, thick and dark.
I don’t even think before I lift her higher, greedily kissing each one and then working my way down the softness of her middle.
“Did you complain about this body?” I whisper, shocked.
“Look at it! Madelyn, look at it.” My tone is reverent and lustful at once, another new combination that I was unaware existed.
“By the oceans, there is nothing more delectable than a woman who is built like you, built like this.” My hands sink into the globes of her ass, and I kiss her belly, my chin brushing the soft curls just under it.
“You are voluptuous.” I roll the word on my tongue, and along the way, I let it stroke her skin. “Delectable. Divine and delicious.”
“You make me sound like a dessert.”
“I didn’t eat a popsicle tonight. You are dessert,” I chuckle—then tilt her onto her back, the mattress under her, and me over her. My cock makes an appearance, rising from behind the tentacles that normally hide it, already achingly hard.
“I think I spy a popsicle of my own,” Madelyn whispers, licking her lips.
Oh, by Poseidon, that would be an amazing thing—but I don’t want it.
Not yet. Tonight is about proving I can stay without taking anything in return.
That I don’t need to be pleasured by her to feel pleasure with her.
“I believe you committed the cardinal offense of not eating your orange pop,” I say with mock gravity.
“I don’t know if you’re allowed another cold treat tonight. ”
Madelyn pouts, and I instantly want to recant my previous statement. “You’re not cold. I thought you would be, but you’re not. Just smooth. Muscles everywhere. Perfect body,” she whispers.
“You would know.” I gently ease onto her mattress, curling beside her and around her, hands greedily rubbing her hip and side. This bed is barely big enough for both of us. My tentacles have to coil together and tuck in to fit, and I have to press as close to Madelyn as possible.
“We need a bigger bed if this gets to be a habit,” she giggles.
“Or I could just wrap myself around you every night,” I murmur, nuzzling into her neck. “You’re so beautiful. Every inch. I believe,” I let my tentacles drape down to the foot of the bed, their mass pulling me with them, “that I was about to explore some of those sweet inches.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Madelyn protests as I kiss a trail over the softness of her belly, making sure to spend extra time nuzzling into the plump little pillow between breasts and navel, and then resting my head where the skin is gathered in soft, slight wrinkles just above her curls. “Mercer. You should— You should move.”
“Am I crushing you?” I sit up in alarm.
“What? No! You’re just... You can skip over the stretchmarks and ‘mommy wattles.’ The excess skin that never shrank back after I had Zack.”
“That’s the term? Mommy wattles?”
“No, that’s what Eli—”
“I don’t want to hear that foul language when I’m making love to my mate,” I snarl, crouching low again and dropping a protective kiss on her thigh.
“I love these spaces and places on you. They are not wattles. They are waves, the reminder that you once held an entire universe inside of you, from where you carried a new life into the world.” I make a girdle of kisses from hipbone to hipbone, and then a line back down the center of her curls, nudging her thighs apart.
My head drops down between Madelyn’s thighs as she relaxes, and I greedily inhale, filling my lungs with the scent of her sweetness and sex. She’s just showered, and the only scent is unadulterated woman. My woman, my mate.
“What a delicious mate she is,” I chuckle aloud, senses already able to discern hints of her flavor just from her scent.
My lips press softly first, and then my tongue contributes, flicking her nub from side to side before lapping at the coral pink walls that spread before me.
Madelyn lets out a low moan, and I remember where she guided my hand.
What made her come the other night. “Are you tired?” I ask suddenly.
“No, not right now,” Madelyn’s voice is strangled as two of my tentacles ensnare her thighs and push them up and out of my way, holding them in place so she can just rest there.
“Good. Then I can have seconds.”
Mercer’s tentacles writhe around me, endlessly undulating, strokes and sucks of the inner rings of muscle, his suckers, driving me crazy. I know there’s only one man here, one incredibly loving, wonderful guy, but it feels like more.
Other tentacles reach for my breasts, encircling them, lifting them, and applying that same gentle squeezing, sucking magic to every inch, including my sensitive nipples. My brain is already on sensory overload just from what feels like four strong limbs massaging me, kissing me, driving me insane.
I could probably come from this, I think.
Which is when Mercer begins to nibble and suck on my clit and the flesh right around it, the bullseye of pleasure that’s guaranteed to get me over the edge every time.
Even though he’s only been giving me attention for a few minutes, I feel like I’m about to pop.
I know I’m making noises, but they’re not words, just panting, grunts, and groans.
I’m making a fool of myself, says the last vestige of my rational thought.
“Mmm, such a symphony for me. All those good noises, love,” Mercer whispers into my wet heat. “Let’s see how close you are.”
I open my mouth to form the word, “soon,” but all that comes out is a strangled gasp when one of his tentacles slips inside of me.
My walls immediately grab onto it—and it grabs back. The tip is narrow, but it quickly turns to thick, solid, prehensile muscle, filling my pussy and stretching it. “Oh, God,” I groan.
“Good?” Mercer asks in a voice that indicates he knows exactly how wonderful it is.
“Fuck!” I mewl as it slides in and out, deep and slow, each thrust opening me a little more, making me dizzy when the suckers pop open and shut, tiny little mouths taking tastes of my soaking inner walls.
“Such a juicy paradise,” Mercer sighs, lifting his head to watch me getting split apart by his thick teal tentacles. “God, Madelyn,” he grunts. “You look so good swallowing me up. Pink and teal are my new favorite color combination.”
“Mercer,” I hiss, teeth clenched. He has brain cells to make words like “color combinations,” and I’m afraid I’m going to scream like a banshee and bring Zack running into the room.
Mercer hasn’t had that thought, apparently, because he just keeps thrusting, his tentacles pulling my thighs farther apart so he can get a better view of my pussy soaking him.
His fingers rub my clit, and I open my eyes long enough to realize that he’s shifted position slightly so that his other hand can pump his cock.
His fist and tentacle move in time, as if his cock is the one sliding in and out of me.
“So good. So good, Mercer,” I whimper, arching into his touch. I let out a strangled noise when another inch of his thick tentacle slides in, each inch wider than the last. I must look so stretched out, Spread and speared by him, and he just watches. Listens to the sloshing noises I make.
And knowing that he’s watching and stroking himself, totally turned on by my body at its most vulnerable and “imperfect,” makes me lose control. “Harder! Fuck me harder and suck on my clit,” I beg.
Mercer groans in agreement, and his tentacle moves in and out so fast and hard that a single scream of pleasure escapes me—before the loud, long groan of orgasm hits when Mercer sucks almost all of my pussy into his mouth at once and worries my clit side to side with his tongue.
“Holy sexcapades,” I breathe out shakily when my vision returns to normal after seeing stars. My whole body feels tingly. “Mercer. That was...”
“That was round one, delicious little mate. This sweet pussy is mine for tonight, yes?”
“If you take such good care of it, I’ll let you keep it,” I whimper, eyes closing as he starts to fuck me again.