suggest that,” Ejan confided. He wriggled his hips closer to hers and reached down, readying his cock for entry.
He penetrated her in a single, quick thrust. He slid inside, his cock coming to rest alongside Tagin’s with only a thin, nerve-lined membrane between them.
Keeping rhythm with the rolling sea under the boat, the two men pumped in and out of her at a measured but increasingly forceful pace. Tagin came first, flooding the deck and the backs of her thighs with hot seed. As if sensing his male partner’s response, Ejan let loose a moment later, bucking against her as climax raked his trim frame.
Stuffed with male flesh at both entrances, Maura didn’t think she had ever felt so full. Gratification swelled inside her, raw and fiery. When she came, too, she saw stars bursting in front of her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she had imagined them or if they were real ones, winking far above the drifting boat.
What a day this had been, she thought as she and the two men curled up together on the deck and basked in emotion and physical satisfaction.
* * * *
As she drifted over the waves, Cyra watched Ejan’s boat rocking back and forth, glimpsed enough to know what was happening on board, and rolled her eyes in disdain. Another perfectly good pod about to be infiltrated by a grasping human. Where would it all end? Before long there would be no men of her kind left for anyone else.
Disgusted, she swam toward shore, intending to settle down in the shallows for the night. To her surprise, when she got close enough to make out details, she spotted a bonfire on the beach near, though not actually on, Septimus’s property.
Alan lay stretched out on a blanket on the sand, drinking a cocktail in a totally natural state.
Cyra couldn’t stop herself from staring, mesmerized by the sleek planes and solid ridges of his body, perfectly accented by the moon reflecting off his naked skin. Despite his being a human, with all the usual limitations, she couldn’t deny that she found him a magnificent specimen.
“Now you’re the one who’s trespassing,” he said, spotting her as she treaded water a few yards out. “How rich is the irony. However, I’m not about to complain. I had a feeling you’d return.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she shot back. “I’m in the sea. No one owns the ocean.”
He put down his drink, wedging the glass securely in the sand, and propped himself up on one elbow. His other arm draped across his middle, his fingers resting next to the base of his cock.
“Come to me,” he demanded. “Now.”
At first, Cyra was outraged at his tone. Yet if she swam away, he would assume she feared him. And she most emphatically did not.
She waded toward him, rising from the water directly in front of him and crossing the sand in a few decisive strides. Her own nakedness didn’t seem to faze him in the least.
“I came because I wanted to,” she said, moving to stand over him. “Not because you ordered me to.”
Haughtily she shook herself. Seawater dripped from her bare body onto him. He didn’t flinch as the cool droplets showered him. Instead, he reached up to her.
“If it pleases you to think so, I’ll let it go—for now.” His hand closed around her wrist and drew her a step closer. “Provided you make amends for your other transgression.”
His arrogance astounded Cyra. She looked forward to teaching him his true place in the hierarchy of things.
She sank down on top of him, straddling him. Her legs, the muscles honed by years of life in the sea, clamped down on him possessively. She knew her grip would cause him some discomfort, if not actual pain. The thought pleased her.
Then the human did something unexpected. He bucked his hips and rolled onto his stomach, so quickly that Cyra’s eyes could barely follow his motions in the dark. Before she knew what had happened, she lay on her back underneath him. His hands pinned hers in the sand. She felt the hard dome of his cock poking
Unknown
Mitch Albom
W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O’Neal Gear
Iris Johansen
Patricia Wentworth
Hazel Gower
L. j. Charles
SUE FINEMAN
Kel Richards
Benjamin Black