The Merman's Kiss Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Intro Black Stevens

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  BRIANNA DROPPED THE pregnancy test into the bathroom trash and joined Eric in bed. He had his laptop across his knees, studying one of his corporate financial projection reports.

  “Negative,” she said, fighting the crack in her voice. The sheets felt frigid against her skin.

  Without looking away from the screen, he reached over and patted her shoulder. “We’ll try again next month.”

  After a stillborn baby girl almost two years ago, they’d followed the doctor’s advice to wait a year before trying again. Now another year had passed without a ray of hope. What if she’d lost her only chance to be a mother? A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, soaking into the pillow. “Maybe we should stop trying.”

  “If that’s what you want.” He scrolled the mouse.

  Brianna’s chest ached. “Eric?”

  “Mmm?” He tapped his finger against the mouse pad.

  “Eric.” Her voice did crack this time. At least he looked away from the computer. His eyes reminded her of the fish in the tank at his office, round and dark and emotionless. She swallowed her tears and slid her head forward to rest her cheek on his arm. “Make love to me.”

  His forearm bunched as he pulled it from beneath her. Her chest lightened for a single heartbeat, then his arm settled back down around the top of her pillow. He patted between her shoulder blades and returned his gaze to the computer. “It’s late. We’ll try again next cycle.”

  The salty breeze blowing across the pier tasted of tears. Behind her, a few scattered people went about their off-season business along the boardwalk. Ahead, only empty, colorless gray sky and water.

  Brianna stepped off the pier.

  The heavy fishing weights cinched around her waist did their job, pulling her toward the bottom quickly enough to make her ears pop.

  She’d heard drowning wasn’t a bad way to go, but the salty water stung her eyes and nose. And the water was cold. Really cold. As the light above faded to a murky blue, she watched the final pockets of air billow upward from her blouse. Who knew the bottom was this far down? A school of fish blocked the meager light a moment, and then they were gone.

  Her chest burned with need, but she was afraid to take a breath. Was she sure she wanted to do this? She and Eric had been married three years before she’d realized he was such a cold fish and would never change. Even the stillbirth of little Pauline hadn’t seemed to touch him. But he also wasn’t the only fish in the sea. Would divorce be so bad? Just before he’d died, her father had made her swear never to divorce her husband. Her mother’s abandonment had torn out a part of his soul. So she’d promised.

  But he was gone now. This was her life.

  Or her death.

  This is stupid! She snatched at the rope belt weighing heavy against her hips. The entire thing was full of knots where she’d attached the five-pound weights. Which knot was holding it closed? Her loose blouse, useful to hide the weights on land, billowed in the current. She couldn’t see the knots. With both hands, she lifted her shirt hem and pulled the garment over her head. The water’s greedy clutches swept it away.

  Her bottom bounced against the seafloor, sending up a cloud of silt. A surge of bubbles forced themselves from between her lips. She clamped her mouth shut. The air escaped from her nose instead. Her tortured lungs burned like they might explode.

  Her left foot scraped stone, and she tried to stand. To push toward the surface. The rock slid out from under her as the tide carried her out to sea.

  She was so stupid. Why had she thought she wanted to die? And like this, as fish food? Eyes burning in the salt water and straining in the light, she searched for the right knot. Her fingers were numb with cold. Tingly. More air trickled from her nose. Her lungs cried out for her to take a breath.

  The light grew dimmer. With both hands, she pushed at the belt, trying to squeeze it down around her hips. The rope stretched a little. Maybe she could shimmy out of it. Except the waistband of her capri pants thwarted that idea. She flicked open the button and slid them down her legs, taking her panties with them. Kicking, she released the fabric to the tide.

  Without her consent, her lungs sipped a draught of water, and she doubled over with a cough. Then her lungs were full. There was no air to cough. Her naked legs scraped along the rocky bottom.

  Her vision was going dark from lack of oxygen. Or was the water getting deeper? A strange calm settled over her. Another school of fish blocked the murky light. She blinked. Maybe death wouldn’t be so bad. Like falling asleep. And maybe her baby would be waiting for her on the other side.

  Strong hands grabbed her arms above the elbows. A man with spiky hair and glinting eyes stared into her face. Someone had come to save her! She flung her arms about his neck. Or at least she tried. The water slowed her motion. Both her legs wrapped around his waist like she might climb him to the surface.

  His eyes widened, metallic silver beneath a dark brow line. Smooth skin slid beneath her fingertips. His face drew closer, eyes boring into hers. A firm mouth found hers, and his tongue slid in.

  She gasped, the lightheadedness of drowning turning into the twirling water-ballet of desire. Like a lure, the dancing tongue within her called on instincts she didn’t know she possessed. Created a pulsing throb in her core, a need greater than air. She bent her head and matched the kiss, tangling her tongue with his and sending rockets of electricity straight to her core. Her entwined legs drew her hips against his. Ground against the hard line of an erection.

  A drawn-out note—not quite a groan, not quite a song—surrounded her. Penetrated deep into her bones. He drew back, hands on her hips. The kiss continued in a teasing mockery of consummation.

  For a split second, she wondered if this was the result of a final, dying fantasy. An attempt of her mind to protect her from the horror of death. But then the moment was gone, and all she knew was need. Need to be one with him. To feel him inside her. To cast away death with the very act that created life.

  Legs still locked around him, she pulled him close again. Arched to meet him. Silently pleaded for more.

  And as naturally as breathing, his cock filled her.

  What…? The thought echoed in her brain, as if she were hearing his thoughts as well as her own.

  Yet she had no time to pause and consider. His hands slithered down to cup her ass, drawing her closer. He undulated against her like a wave.

  Dizzy with ecstasy, she bucked her hips in time to his rhythm. Threw her head back so the angle of their joining stroked her innermost ridges. Shivers rocketed down her thighs, pooled in the core of her belly. This was primal. A need greater than she’d known could exist. A demand blocking out all thoughts of anything but satisfaction.

  All around them, the current swirled as he thrust. Pure instinct made her clamp her legs tighter about his waist. Nothing mattered now but the climax. The heady release of something larger than she’d ever experienced before. Heat flushed her, searing her from head to toe. Tumbling thoughts collided with each other inside her head. Sex. Magic. Heat. Breath. Life. Yes!

  She screamed the last word, throwing her head back as her orgasm shook her.

  The man’s fingers dug deep into her buttocks as he joined her.

  Eyes closed, chest heaving from exertion, she relaxed in his arms. Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears, and her limbs
felt limp as jellyfish. Sex had always been bland with Eric. Clinical. She’d sought to please him but never found the ecstasy so many of her friends carried on about. Now she knew what the fuss was.

  A muscular arm fastened about her waist, and a surge of water pushed her hair off her face. She opened her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. Then she stiffened. Breath? She was breathing. How was she breathing?

  The weights she wore dug into her hip as he held her close against him. With amazing force, he propelled them through the water, focused on something ahead. Her gaze raked his spiked hair and naked shoulder. Down his back, his spine rose into a pronged fan. A fin?

  She blinked, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her in the murky light. She was underwater. But breathing. She slid a hand across his shoulder blade and up the fin to the first bony prong. Craning her head, she looked down the length of his body. Salt water rose in her throat. Where legs should be, a silver tail ended in a billowing fin. This guy has a tail.

  She’d just had sex with a merman. And now he was carrying her deeper into the sea.

  Chapter Two

  THE FEMALE’S WARMTH coursed through his bloodstream like a drug. Zantu had seen her struggling and had meant only to check her body for salvage, a weakness of his inherited from his father. The glint of gold around her throat had made him dare to approach. Then she’d wrapped herself around him like a squid. A very hot squid. His cock had erupted from its sheath like a narwhal’s horn through ice, ready to claim her heat before his brain even had time to process the act. The irrevocable act.

  And now the green-eyed beauty owned him, body and soul.

  Unlike the more promiscuous mer-females who would search out and copulate with anything with a penis, mermen bonded for life. A merman who bonded was doomed to a life of misery as his mate strayed again and again. He would raise the children, coddling them like a father sea horse until they, too, left him. Most mermen died of broken hearts.

  Zantu gritted his teeth and tightened his grip around his new mate. He’d felt her stiffen, likely to flee into the arms of another man now that she’d taken what she wanted. But Zantu wasn’t about to let that happen. He was determined to find a way to bond her to him as tightly as he was bonded to her.

  He would find a way to harness this capricious female heart.

  The woman struggled in his grip, flailing uselessly as he dove over the first chasm toward the nesting grounds. Her nails dug into the flesh on his shoulder, and her naked legs slid along his tail.

  Legs.

  He’d never imagined bonding to a human. Mermaids seduced men all the time, but mermen, lacking a female’s seductive skills, avoided contact at all costs. Many a tale warned of humans hunting mermen for sport.

  As the woman struggled, the bush covering her female parts brushed his hip, hot and inviting. His cock stirred again at the invitation. He’d been told the bond would be strong when it happened, but the draw he felt was as inevitable as the tide. He adjusted his grip so she was beneath him, looking up, her eyes fixed on him. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound emerged. Was she mute? Perhaps she was out of oxygen? The magic in his kiss should have enabled her to breathe as easily as a deep-sea dweller until the moon went dark. Then the magic would have to be renewed, or she would drown. At least that was what the mermaids said about the men they seduced. But perhaps a merman’s kiss wasn’t as strong?

  After glancing forward to be sure he was on course, he dipped his head toward her and covered her mouth with his. Her lips were incredibly soft, working against his as she continued to try to speak. Her hands crept over his shoulders and slid along his dorsal, sending shivers across his skin. Desire rose in him again, and he crushed her tighter against him, all thoughts of forward momentum banished as he plunged his tongue between her blunt teeth, twirled, and thrust. His shaft once again unsheathed itself, ready for another bonding.

  Her legs fluttered, and he curled his tail up and between them, pressing his hips to hers. Her heat was waiting, slick and hot. Her legs around him tightened like a trap, and her soft breasts burned against his chest. Her mouth tasted like sunlight-dappled waves.

  What am I doing? The thought wasn’t his. Depths, he was truly done for. Only the strongest of bonds allowed a merman to hear his mate’s thoughts. The only bond more rare was when the female could hear the male.

  He opened his eyes. Maybe… Her lids were closed, her lips swollen with kisses. Stay with me, he thought. She threw back her head, mouth forming soundless words, but her hands kept tight hold against his shoulders. Maybe she heard him. Maybe not. All he could do was hold her as close as he could as long as he could.

  Crushing her against him, he trailed kisses down her throat. One hand found her breast and cupped it, teasing the nipple into a coral nub. She shuddered, and her nails dug into his back as her depths tightened around him. His testicles throbbed for release, but he refused to let the moment be over so soon. He drew back until the tip of his member just teased her folds. In his mind, he heard her whimper, plead for more.

  Not yet. I’m not done with you.

  She wriggled her hips against him, pressing her clit along his waiting length. Her tongue roved her lips, inviting him to taste, but he resisted, simply gazing upon her, fighting his own desire. To exercise such control was as heady as mounting her. The drive was strong in him, but not overpowering. How was he doing this? A merman was supposed to be unable to resist his mate’s lust, even for a moment, as doomed to her whims as a jellyfish to the tide. If he could hold off like this, perhaps there was hope for him.

  Then she opened her eyes, and her lips mouthed, “Please.” He was indeed doomed. With a shudder he sheathed himself inside her, slammed his hips against her. She matched his rhythm, throwing her head back and rocking with him until his tail curled in the ecstasy of release.

  He sagged against her, holding her gently and allowing the current to carry them where it would. For thirty-five years he’d avoided his bond-fate, sidestepping many tempting offers in the process. Of late, his biology had nearly toppled him into the abyss on several occasions. A raven-haired seductress with a voice like an orca’s. A green-tailed enchantress with a golden dorsal fin he later learned had been tipped with love toxin.

  And yet, now that he was bonded, he was relieved. No longer would he need to live in terror of other mermaids. Of traps and subterfuge. And perhaps with a human, he would be able to maintain some control. Maybe even shrug off the curse of his bond-fate.

  A war raged inside his chest as he held his mate close while some distant, protected part of his mind plotted a way to be free of her.

  But for now, he’d do everything in his power to protect her.

  Chapter Three

  BRIANNA FLOATED BONELESS as sea kelp, luxuriating in the afterglow of the merman’s lovemaking. As primal as the act had been, she still thought of it as lovemaking. She could have sworn he’d whispered his devotion in her ear as they’d coupled. Or perhaps it was just her subconscious desire to be loved and cherished.

  She opened heavy lids but could see nothing beyond the shoulders of the merman in the inky depths. Featureless. Maybe this was all a dream and she was dead. Could you dream when you were dead? Whatever the case, she never wanted to wake up. Not if death was like this. With a sigh, she wrapped her arms around the merman’s waist and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. He smelled briny and herbal at the same time.

  I wonder what his name is.

  A voice like a song came to her. Zantu.

  She giggled, bubbles tickling her nose. Now I’m hearing voices. What kind of a name is Zantu?

  The palm he’d been stroking against the small of her back stopped. He thrust her away to look into her face, his hands like claws around her biceps. You can hear me?

  His silver eyes flashed fiercely, and he grinned; every one of his pearly whites was sharp as a canine. How had she not noticed that while they’d kissed? For the first time, she was afraid.

  C
an you hear me? The sonorous voice again floated through her mind.

  A shiver started in her chest and rattled outward through her bones. Her heart raced until her vision jostled with every pounding beat. She managed to nod at him.

  He released one hand from her bicep and stroked her cheek.

  She recoiled at the sight of the slight webbing between his fingers. A word formed in her mind as his gyrating tail caught her attention. Monster.

  His hand hovered millimeters from her cheek, and she swung her gaze up to meet his, suddenly horrified that he’d heard. His mouth no longer smiled. His liquid-silver eyes gleamed like twin moons. I’m sorry, she thought, hoping he could hear her.

  He sucked in his cheeks as if willing himself not to speak and dropped the hand from her face. Come.

  His other hand slid down her arm to take her hand, and he turned away. With a powerful thrash of his tail, he pulled her along behind him, towing her like a bit of flotsam.

  Zantu’s joy about the discovery of the reciprocal, telepathic bond tasted like seagull spatter on his tongue. She thought him an abomination? A monster? Of course she did. Her kind hunted his. There could be no love between them.

  I’m Brianna, she thought to him, but he didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He had to find a way to break this unholy bond before he revealed all the secrets of the mer-kingdom to an outsider. Before she could rally her people to hunt them down in their nests.

  Pumping his tail muscles like he was fleeing an orca’s teeth, he plunged them through the tidal current toward the deeper water where he could hold her until he’d formed a plan. The swim would normally take him less than a quarter tide, but with his mate’s extra weight, he couldn’t move nearly as fast. He surveyed the waters ahead, wary of sharks and other predators who might take advantage of his handicap.

  A trill of laughter caught his attention, followed by three scale notes and the underlying vibrations of a fish-harp. His dorsal fin flattened against his back. Mermaids. Melody lilted through the water, a familiar cadence, a magic to incite desire. He knew that voice. Loia. She’d tempted him before, nearly caught him in her net. But now he felt only the faintest acknowledgement of her song’s power. His bond was set, and she could no longer influence him.