Saved by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 9) Page 6

  Now he was clean and she was clean.

  His cock was hard.

  He still didn’t make a move.

  She brushed the tattoos on his sternum. “These have a meaning, right? What does this one mean?”

  “It is the symbol of my city.”

  “Atlantis?”

  “My origin city. Syrenka.”

  She traced the lines up. The snowflake pattern branched into geometric shapes. Smaller hashes and squares divided each square. “Where’s Syrenka?”

  “North.”

  The steam of the shower wrapped them in slippery fog.

  This moment slipped outside of time.

  She was still terrified about what accepting Lotar would mean. The fate of the mermen would rest on her small shoulders.

  But she had already decided.

  She’d decided when she’d brought him back to her apartment.

  The door was there. She’d already opened it.

  Now she just had to walk through.

  Hazel lowered her hand and forced herself to look up into his deep, watchful eyes. “What happens now?”

  “You accept my claim.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “With a kiss.”

  Right. She’d gotten him naked and seen everything but still hadn’t shared a kiss.

  Hazel did everything out of order.

  Whatever. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she took the next step.

  Her stomach filled with butterflies. She was ready. She chose this. She chose him.

  Hazel closed her eyes and lifted her lips.

  And…

  …

  Nothing.

  She opened her eyes.

  Lotar looked conflicted.

  A dark frown slashed his brow. His worried gaze fixed on her lips and all his muscles flexed, taut, as he struggled.

  When he noticed her question, he blinked as though trying to clear away his emotions, concealing an internal fight behind the quiet, impassive watchfulness.

  He’d said she was his soul mate. He knew. And the next step was to kiss…

  “Okay, well.” She patted his chest. “When you want to do that, let me know.”

  She turned away to shut off the water.

  Lotar’s hand closed over her wrist.

  He pulled her back, gently but decisively.

  Haha, okay, maybe she had misread him. “Oh, hey, you—”

  His mouth covered hers in a kiss.

  Ah.

  The shower pattered on her back. The scent of vanilla and cardamom mixed with sea salt and male.

  Heat streaked through her body.

  Lotar.

  He was all kinds of muscle, hardness and pride, strength and dominance.

  His mouth opened, and his tongue sought hers.

  She licked his intoxicating male flavor, lapped up every drop, teasing his mouth, delving and swirling, nibbling.

  His hand at her wrist tightened and the heat of his body crossed the last inch to draw her against him. Her thigh slid against his, her belly pressed his upper hip, her breasts slid against his chest.

  He pursued her mouth doggedly. She teased him, swirling and looping until he released her lips. Then she bit his sharp jaw with little nips and grazed her teeth across his rough chin.

  He sucked in a breath.

  Yes.

  Her nipples tightened to hard pearls, and desire streaked into her center.

  He was quiet but expressive. Ready but uncertain.

  And that was just fine.

  She kissed down the column of his neck, over the cord of the spiral shell necklace, to his collarbone. So broad, so powerful. Down his pectorals, over the swirling tattoos. Like kissing ice fields, but hot and trembling. This was as meaningful to him as it was to her. After tonight, their lives would never be the—

  He caught her wrists, stopping her.

  Uncertainty flashed in his eyes.

  No, not uncertainty.

  Fear.

  He stared at her with absolute terror.

  Huh?

  Had she gotten it all wrong?

  Hazel looked up at him, worry tilting her head. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded.

  Because he was. He was more than okay.

  His soul mate opened her body to him, pressed her soft form to his, accepted, and even covered him with hungry kisses. She wanted his claim. His kiss, his caress, his touch.

  It was a dream.

  And yet.

  His heart pounded as if a pack of angry bull sharks had scented him.

  Hazel was so open. So confident in the moment of melding their bodies to create a young fry. Easy and yet serious, playful and yet passionate. She was a pure and beautiful soul.

  He must protect her.

  From danger, from injury.

  From himself.

  Her lips curved, her worries fading to a comfortable glow, and she rested her fingers gently on his shoulders. “Then…” She placed a soft kiss against his collarbone.

  Yes, he wanted her kiss.

  He needed her to desire him.

  She kissed over the angular broadness of his chest and descended over his ribs toward his—

  May your young fry curse you as you have cursed me.

  His hands tightened around her wrists, stopping her at his waist.

  This was dangerous.

  For her.

  He lifted her back to her feet, away from his hard cock.

  “Huh?” She frowned, her lips pressed together in a pout, and her hair hung in beautiful wet ropes down her back. “Did you not want to do the whole claim? Mermen usually have a thing about melding their bodies as fast as possible. I’m on the pill, although I guess we’ll have to talk about how that’s happening underwater, and I have a box of condoms in the cabinet, but…” She frowned. “Or, wait. Aren’t you supposed to give me your Sea Opal?”

  His mating gemstone.

  Curse it.

  He had been so certain…

  The confession forced itself through his gritted teeth. “I do not have it.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where is it?”

  “Atlantis.”

  “You left it behind?”

  “I did not carry unnecessary weight.”

  Hazel raised her hand to her forehead, even though he was still holding her wrist. Instead of dimming herself with anger or sadness, she laughed. “You thought you wouldn’t find a bride so you didn’t bother to bring it with you? Oh, man. Talk about self-sabotage. Can I even still transform?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Of course? I thought it was kind of a big deal.”

  “It is.”

  A warrior gave his mating gemstone to his bride as a symbol of his commitment, as part of the ceremony of the ancient covenant, and to increase their resonance.

  Where a bride fought herself and rejected her soul’s resonance, the mating gemstone refocused her. It was made of the resin of a mer’s Life Tree. A pure offering of the sea. And most brides could not resist its soothing, healing shape and color.

  But Hazel had already accepted his claim and opened her soul to his. She eagerly united their bodies. When she drank the elixir and they kissed, she would easily transform.

  She did not need his mating gemstone. “You can still transform. In Atlantis, you will accept my mating gemstone and complete the marriage ceremony.”

  “Right, I have to drink the nectar of the Life Tree blossom to make my transformation powers permanent.” She lowered her hand. “You guys used to say that the elixir would wear off, but now you aren’t worried about it?”

  He shook his head.

  Several queens had never drunk Life Tree blossom nectar, and their abilities had lasted decades.

  Once, no warrior ever questioned the traditions parroted by the All-Council.

  But now, rebels questioned many things.

  He still wanted to complete the marriage ceremony. He wanted to gift his mating gemstone. He wanted Hazel.
>
  But.

  Whatever the meaning of a pill or condoms were, he could not risk uniting their bodies. He could never risk fathering a young fry.

  “So if that’s not the problem…” She looked down at his hands, still holding her wrists. “I’m sorry. I forgot that mermen can’t, you know.” She gestured at his hard cock.

  He did not know.

  “You know. You can’t, um, practice. Or anything. You only react to your soul mate.”

  Ah. That was true.

  “So this isn’t just your first time with me. It’s not just your first time with a woman. It’s your first time getting hard. And here I am, blazing through.” She laughed at herself. “The last half hour has probably been a lot of firsts for you. Want to just snuggle?”

  “Snuggle?”

  “Yeah. Here, I’ll show you.” She wriggled her wrists. “You’ll like it. Trust me.”

  He released her.

  She rinsed her face and hair, stopped the shower, and dried herself with a hanging towel and handed one to him. She spread creams on her face, scrubbed her teeth, and offered him the white paste. “You’ll have to use your finger, though. I draw the line at sharing toothbrushes.”

  He spread the paste on his teeth. It tingled.

  And then, treating him much more gently than perhaps anyone had treated his long, lean, deadly body before, she led him by the hand to her bed. There she fluffed the thin sheets and eased him in. “Your feet will stick off the end.”

  They did.

  The bed was a strange, bouncy, creaky rectangle of rustling fabric that urged him to roll to the center.

  Hazel hung their towels by a whirring rectangle embedded in the wall near the ceiling. She pulled on a silky top covering with straps and formfitting bottoms that cupped her curves with enticing softness and scooted into the bed beside him, arranging the sheets and fitting her body to his. One knee snugged over his waist. Her head rested at his shoulder. She nuzzled his cheek with her nose. “This is snuggling.”

  Just touching.

  He rested his palm on her buttocks. The material was soft as the tendrils of a fluttering anemone.

  She wriggled closer with a sigh. Her bright eyes opened, and she stroked an index finger along his nose. “Does this tattoo have a meaning?”

  “The currents I follow and the fish I…” He didn’t have the right words. “The fish I resonate with.”

  “Your soul resonates with fish?”

  He shook his head. How to explain? Even warriors didn’t talk about this often. “I understand them.”

  “Their words?”

  “Not words. Movements, hungers, needs.”

  “That’s so cool.” She traced her finger up across his forehead and down the line of his jaw. “Can anyone read it off your face? Like a social media profile. ‘Likes collecting succulents, hoarding supplies for crafts she’ll never do, and taking short walks in an air-conditioned mall.’ Haha.”

  Each city had its own unique system of markings. “Only in Syrenka.”

  “Wow.” She yawned and closed her eyes again with a deep sigh. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  A single bolt of electricity burned through his body, a vibrating hot coil.

  He had never intended to return. But he must. And worst, he must bring a female.

  No, there was still time to change his mind.

  He had claimed Hazel with his kiss, but she did not know the true reason for his hesitation to unite their bodies. And when she did know…

  In all the annals, in all the stories, he had never heard of a warrior refusing his sacred bride.

  He had never heard of a sacred bride not carrying a warrior’s young fry.

  This did not happen.

  Tonight was only the first time he could not give his bride what she needed.

  And once she realized he would never fulfill her needs, she would leave him.

  She wiggled.

  Ah, he had tightened his arms. Without noticing, he was squeezing her. Lotar forced himself to relax, and she sighed again.

  The day she left him would be cold and hard.

  But not yet.

  Not yet.

  She burrowed closer. “Mm. You know what? It’s been a long time since I snuggled with someone. I forgot how nice it was to feel cozy and loved with no pressure. So, thank you. After everything that happened today, I think this was exactly what I needed.”

  A sharp ache filled his chest.

  By degrees, her muscles twitched and relaxed, and she grew heavier with sleep.

  His fingers tingled like the white paste she’d given him for his teeth, and then his hand lost feeling.

  He endured the numbness, unwilling to wake her.

  He’d denied her needs, and this precious female thanked him?

  Hazel truly was different.

  A small seed of hope unfurled deep within his chest.

  Hazel was everything he craved in a soul mate and more. So much more.

  Maybe he could tell her the truth.

  She would listen. With her bright, sparkling eyes and shining soul, she would let him tell her everything, no matter how long it took. No matter how deeply it terrified him.

  She would stay until the end.

  And maybe, just maybe, she would understand.

  Seven

  Beep-beep-beep-beep…

  Hazel woke in an empty bed.

  In an empty apartment.

  With her alarm going off.

  Ah, crap.

  She rose and stretched. Her feet hit the edge of the futon. She hadn’t stored it properly. Oh, yeah. That jerk had made her too late to submit her resignation, so she’d have to do it on Monday…

  Wait.

  Hazel shut off her weekday alarm. Today was a workday, not a Saturday. Why was she wearing her “pretend you’re a rich businesswoman who wears designer bloomers all the time and this isn’t TJ Maxx clearance lingerie that Pia tailored one time” which she only wore to lounge with a Moka pot espresso on Saturday morning because they were way too precious to wear all the time?

  Oh.

  Yeah.

  Hey…

  Didn’t she have a merman in this apartment?

  Her phone beeped a low-battery warning.

  Crap.

  Hazel walked around the apartment. It was a studio, so that didn’t take long. Both Lotar and the futon couldn’t fit under the bed, seeing as Lotar could barely fit on the bed. The bathroom was empty. Her keys were on the hook next to the door, and the door was still triple-bolted, which meant he hadn’t gone out the front door…

  She opened up her cabinets.

  Why? He was a six-foot-plus merman, not a cat.

  And he had been so cute last night. She’d gone into her now-we’re-going-to-have-sex zone, and when he’d stopped her, the panic in his eyes had been refreshing. Well, not the panic, exactly. Taking it slow with her meant something to him. Most guys she dated rushed for the finish, and she had to fight for her share of fun. She had to remind plenty of otherwise considerate guys to slow down and maybe, you know, actually do some foreplay.

  Sex was the ultimate team sport, so Hazel was super picky with her partners, but Lotar was different. They’d figure it out. And as he was her soul mate, they’d have all the time in the world.

  Plus she was still so thrilled and grateful he thought she could do this. Go on this All-Cities Gyre. Be a diplomat, like Dannika, and change the world.

  Please let me be sensible enough to touch the mermen’s hearts and change the world.

  But where had he gone?

  Her phone rang, and she answered in a panic. “Lotar?”

  “Hi, Hazel, I’m sorry to bother you so early, but something’s come up, and I’m wondering if I can impose on you,” her boss said.

  “Oh, Dannika, I am so sorry. I lost Lotar.”

  “You lost him?”

  “I woke up and he was gone.”

  “Oh. I applaud your dedication, Hazel, but you are allowed to have perso
nal time. Please don’t feel that you have to spend your off-hours watching over him.”

  “But he’s not here.”

  “Well, maybe he’s at the hotel breakfast.”

  “You don’t understand. We’re not at the hotel, we’re at my studio. And I just…” She sat on the bed. Dannika wasn’t even in the office to get a resignation letter. She’d lost Lotar. Everything was falling apart. “I think I messed up everything forever. You need a new program assistant.”

  “You’re doing a wonderful job.” Dannika’s encouraging smile was audible across the phone. “I promise you, Hazel, you’re more capable than you know.”

  Dannika only said that because she couldn’t see it from Hazel’s perspective. She was much taller, willowy and graceful, from some rich family in Maryland with gardens and peacocks. Her boudoir panties were real.

  “Now, I was calling to let you know we had trouble with the cell booster on Sanctuary Island, and so for the next week, you’ll be here on your own.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “You really can. You ran the whole office by yourself when my plane crashed and everyone presumed me dead, and you did a fabulous job.”

  Hazel had only done that because the Mer-Human Alliance, the foundation that ran MerMatch.com, had promised they were hiring a new head matchmaker. All she’d had to do was go into the office every day, answer phones, return emails, and direct everything else to the foundation director.

  Of course, she’d cried a whole bunch when Dannika’s plane had suddenly disappeared, and she’d cried even harder from joy when Dannika turned out to be alive and well with a group of castaways on Sanctuary Island.

  “Call in the list of bride candidates you selected,” Dannika continued. “I thought your instincts were excellent. Lotar doesn’t say much, but when he meets the right woman, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  Oh.

  Haha, that was true.

  And that raised a whole other point. “Um, actually, though, I do have to quit.”

  “Hazel, I love your dramatic flair, but your tone of voice suggests this isn’t hyperbole.”

  “It’s not.” She rubbed her face. “I was going to turn in my two weeks’ notice yesterday, but I got waylaid, but actually—even if I haven’t lost Lotar… But supposing I find him again, I still can’t be in the office for over a year. Oh. You’ll have to find someone else to take over the office. Huh.”