Chapter 30
Ari
Rolling over in my sleep, I reach to pull Erica to me, but she’s not there.
My eyes are immediately open. It’s six in the morning, far earlier than we usually get up in the mornings, especially on a travel day.
My heart races as the panic swells within me.
Glancing around the room, her stuff is still here, but she’s not where I can see her.
I fling myself out of the bed, ready to hunt for her when I realize I hear the shower running and . . . singing. The most beautiful singing I’ve ever heard in my fucking life. It’s ethereal. My ornery mate has been keeping secrets. Little siren indeed.
Her voice physically pulls me toward her, unable to tear myself away. Is this how people feel at our shows? Godsdamn. My knees go weak.
She’s singing one of our songs more beautifully than I ever could.
If I thought the sound of her was tempting through the door of the bathroom, once I have it open and the steam escapes, the alluring sound wraps around me, leaving no part of me untouched by her voice.
Quietly relieving myself of my clothes, absorbing every note and falsetto, only when my hand is on the glass shower door do I join in the song with her. Our voices twist together, caressing each other in the water vapors of her scalding shower spray surrounding us.
She jumps at first, startled at my quiet addition to her shower, then melts when it fully registers that it’s just me, her voice not faltering through the song. We finish the final chorus of the song together, our voices fading into the mist.
“When the hell were you going to tell me you could sing like that?” I ask as I wrap my body around the back of hers.
Her shoulders begin to curl in.
Before they can, I grasp each shoulder with my hands, pulling them back so she remains tall. “Don’t even try and tell me some bullshit line someone has fed you. Your voice is incredible. Maybe better than mine.”
She giggles, then scoffs.
Turning her body around so that she’s facing me, I growl, “I’m deadly serious with you right now.”
Instead of answering or acknowledging my words, she buries her face in my chest. My arms instinctively wrap around her, just holding her beneath the water, chin resting on top of her head.
“There’s something else I haven’t told you about what being my mate means.” I abruptly decide that now is as good a time as any to explain myself like I should have before our first time.
She tilts her head back to look me in the eyes, squinting as the sprinkle-spray of the water pings in her face. “Maybe we should finish this conversation in a dryer place?” she says, giggling.
I kiss the top of her head and suggest, “You go ahead, let me wash up and I’ll be right behind you.”
She nods and makes her way out of the shower. I can’t help but offer her ass a loving slap on the way out. Her squeak going straight to what was an only half-hard dick.
Rushing through one of the quickest showers known to man or mer kind, I bolt of out the shower, drying my body and hair as I make my way back to the main space to find my little siren still undressed and lying patiently on the bed waiting for me.
My cock twitches in appreciation, which she notices, licking her lips.
I shake the lust threatening to take over my logical processes. “First,” I offer in a husky voice. Clearing my throat, I continue, “I really do want to finish this conversation with you. There’s no rush or anything, I just want you to be aware.”
She seems to realize my seriousness, nodding and pulling the covers over her curves while she sits up in the bed.
“Part of being my mate means that, when you’re ready,” I emphasize the last three words, “we need to complete our bond.” I stop there, letting her steer the conversation as she’s ready.
“What does that mean?” she asks, as I hoped she would.
Smiling at her I say, “It means that when you’re ready, to complete our bond, I’ll mark you as mine.”
Her eyes widen. “Mark me?”
I nod.
“How?” she breathes.
Instead of saying the words, I allow my mouth to complete a small shift, showing her the razor-sharp teeth of my mer form. My gums were itching with the need to claim her after having her for a whole night, but I refused to do so without her awareness and complete acceptance of what it was.
She gasps and I worry that it’s a sound of fright until the scent of her arousal snakes through my senses, a shiver racing up my spine.
“I really don’t want you to rush—”
“Now.”
Shaking my head and trying to keep my body from lunging for her, I emphasize, “Erica this is a huge decision. It’s not a ring or an apartment key. It binds our souls. Forever. You’ll be stuck with me.”
Determination flares in her eyes. She throws the covers to the side and stands from the bed, hips swaying as she approaches me without an ounce of apprehension in her body or face.
In a move I never would have expected from my self-conscious mate, she takes my dick in her hand.
Not softly. She’s sending me a message when she says again, “Now. Ari. Unless I’m misunderstanding . . . and you don’t want to.”