She huffed, but didn't look entirely angry. "You really are a man."
It pleased him to have her accept him as such. "And you are my woman."
She let him pull her into his arms with little protest. "I could swear you just called me your woman."
"I did."
"I'm not anybody's woman." She peered up at him as he snugged her closer. His hands caressed her plump rear portion. "Just so you know."
"I thought humans mated one to one?" He had to let go of her curves to speak, but even that could not distract him from how luscious she felt against him. "One man to one woman? So you would be my woman...no?"
Her eyes had gone a little dazed as his hands caressed her body during his speech. "I have no idea what you're saying, but damn, it feels good."
That invitation was enough for him. He kissed her, then lifted her off her feet and carried her to the low bench she'd told him was called a couch. He settled her there amongst the soft cushions, parted her thighs, and bent to lick the tender flesh there.
She gasped, but did not stop him. "Again...oh, my God...."
Human mals must have very inadequate equipment, Jeenai thought, if his advances surprised her. During a revel, fems and mals could mate and climax hundreds of times if they did not share seed. So far, though he'd not kept careful count, he and Helena had made love far fewer times than a hundred.
He slipped off the garment she wore around her hips and held them up.
"They're called panties."
He tossed them aside. "Panties are an unnecessary garment, Helena."
Hearing him say her name seemed to please her, because she lifted her hips at the sound. He bent to her fragrant center and parted her soft folds, then dove to find her already gleaming pearl. So much like a fem, yet different. So easy to access, so delightful to kiss her here as well. He licked her and enjoyed the way she writhed.
Her hand came down to caress his head. He was pleasing her. That thought made his penis surge to life more than anything else. He was pleasing his Helena.
He could feel her soft flesh swell with her arousal, and adjusted his movements to accommodate her needs. In moments, she was gasping his name. Her pearl vibrated beneath his lips as her first climax overtook her.
He sat back on his heels to allow her some time to relax after her orgasm. Helena sat up and looked down at him. "You're incredible."
"Has no mal ever done such for you before?"
"Not like that."
"You have been with the wrong mals."
"If you're telling me I've met the wrong men, you're absolutely right." She reached out as though to caress his hair, but pulled back as though she'd thought better of it. Then she bit her lip, firmed her expression, and did run her fingers through his hair.
He caught her hand and held it against his cheek. They sat that way for a few moments. He could see she was struggling with something and reminded himself she had not known him as long as he'd known her. She had not loved him for as long. If he had to be patient with her, he would, so long as it meant she would love him in the end.
All at once a look of determination crossed her features. "Sit up here."
"On the bench? The couch?"
"Up here on the couch." She tugged his hand until he obeyed. She turned and knelt between his legs, a look of mischief on her face. "Turn about's fair play, Johnny."
She gripped the sides of his garment and tugged them down over his hips. His erection, which had been resting half-turgid the entire time, now sprang to full life. She grasped it gently, then stroked it.
His breath hissed from his lips. When she bent her head and took him into her mouth, he groaned. Pleasure overtook him as her lips slid along his penis and paid special attention to the round head. She sucked him harder and took him deep into her throat.
"You are accomplished in the fuck."
She glanced up at his waving hands and laughed. The vibration sent a thrill of pleasure coursing through him. She slid from his cock to reply. "No talking. Just sit back and enjoy this."
He used his hands to caress her hair instead. The silky lengths entwined around his fingers as she moved her head up and down on his shaft. His first orgasm beckoned and his buttocks tensed. She put her hands beneath them to pull him deeper into her, and Jeenai gave himself up to her with another groan.
His body shook, then calmed. "Helena."
She gently took herself away from his cock and moved up his body to find his mouth. "I just can't get over how you can come without...coming."
She didn't seem to expect a reply, so Jeenai just allowed himself to enjoy the way her mouth traveled all over his face before making its way back to his lips. Helena sat on his lap and took his face between her hands. She held him still while she stared into his eyes.
"You're still ready to go, aren't you?"
He nodded.
She shifted against his erection. "Amazing."
He cupped her buttocks and nestled her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, her mouth next to his ear. Her whisper tickled.
"Would you mind if we took a break? I have to confess, I'm exhausted. I didn't sleep well last night, and honestly, I'm not used to so much activity."
She did not want to continue the fuck? She was sated after only one climax? Jeenai knew many fems who would bite a mal who left them without providing further stimulus. Still, if that was what Helena wanted, that was what he'd give her.
He nodded. She snuggled closer to him, opened her mouth wide and took in a deep, long breath. "I could really just go to sleep right now."
In his realm, the passing of time was measured by the tide, the current, the hungers of the body. He rested when he was tired and woke when he no longer needed rest. "If you need to rest, then you must do such."
She nodded, but made no move to rise. Jeenai scooped her into his arms and stood, knees stiff to combat the pain slicing through his feet. Helena clung to him for a moment and made a noise of surprise, then relaxed. Jeenai took her to the place she rested... The bedroom, he reminded himself. He laid her down on the bed and pulled the covers around her. Then he kissed her on the forehead.
She gazed up at him. "You're unreal."
"I'm real, Helena."
She wiggled against her pillow, her eyes already closing. "Too perfect," she mumbled. In the next moment, she slept.
Jeenai watched her for a while, soothed by the steady rhythm of her breathing. It reminded him of the constant noise of the ocean. He bent to kiss her forehead again, then left her to her rest.
His body hungered for sustenance, and he pulled a loaf of bread from a drawer, some cheese from the... What was it again? The fridge. He made what Helena had called a sandwich, and consumed it heartily. Remembering how she had placed the soiled plate in the washer of dishes machine, he did, then wiped down the table with a damp cloth.
Jeenai looked around, satisfied he had left the kitchen the way he'd found it. Living above was more work than in his realm, where the sea took care of messes such as those.
Stomach full, he wandered out to the deck that surrounded the house. Night had fallen at last, and the dark sky sparkled with the stars he'd so often admired. He lifted his nose to the air and took in a breath of salt-scented air. Beyond the sand, the water glistened and beckoned in the moonlight.
The low roar of the waves called to him, but Jeenai knew better than to try and walk along the sand. Every step would be torment, and he couldn't risk getting close to the water. Something splashed close to shore and caught his attention. He looked more closely.
It could have been a pod of his closemates. Porpoises often liked to leap and play so close to the beach. He looked again, and recognized the figures in the water.
Krall. Persis. Gile. Moral. Tyde. Offren. All his brothers...come to visit him? They jumped from the water with powerful sprays, their bodies twisting in the air before they reentered the ocean. Did they know he was standing there?
Just beyond Helena's house, a battere
d wooden dock stretched part way out over the water. Tucked into a small cove made by the island's ragged edge, the dock had been built over calmer water, but it was still the ocean. One drop of salt water would turn him back into what he had been when he visited the sea hag.
The sudden, irrational longing to see his brothers made Jeenai jump from the deck onto the sandy gravel and head for the dock. He leaped from the sand onto the splintered boards and kept to the center of the dock. The water was calm now, without any high waves to splash him, but he knew all too well what a fickle mistress the sea could be.
He reached the end of the dock and found his brothers, the six of them, bobbing in the water with identical grins on their faces.
"Greetings, oh, my brothers," Jeenai said.
"Look at the split-tail with our brother's eyes!" said Persis, his oldest brother.
He splashed and Jeenai jumped away. "Stop that!"
"Is he afraid of the water now, poor, little split-tail?" This came from Offren, his cruelest brother.
Jeenai stood tall, not ashamed of the change in his form. "What do you want, oh, my brothers? If only to mock me, I'll take my leave."
"We didn't come to mock, oh, my brother." Krall made a menacing gesture toward Offren and Persis, who subsided with snide grins. "We come to see your success."
"Or failure," put in Tyde. "Have you had the fuck with your split-tail fem yet?"
"Her name is Helena," Jeenai told them.
They looked at each other, surprised by the voice issuing from his throat.
Gile and Moral, who had shared the same womb, spoke together. "When will you return to the sea, Jeenai? We miss your presence at the revels and in the hunt."
Jeenai shook his head. "I don't plan to return, oh, my brothers." He looked over his shoulder, back to the house where a single light burned in the window for him. "I love this fem. I want to stay with her, if she'll have me."
"And if she doesn't, you'll turn to foam and die!" Offren gestured angrily. "You'll give your life for a human emotion? You are a fool, oh, my brother!"
"You can believe such, if you want." Jeenai had no desire to fight with his brother, or even to defend himself. "I have made my choice. It is what I want."
"Then go," said Krall, the only of his brothers who seemed to understand Jeenai's desire. "Leave us, oh, my brother, before these others drag you back into the ocean for spite."
They would do it, too, and he saw it in their eyes. Persis, who prided himself on being one of the best warriors of the Carrageenai. Tyde, who followed Persis in all he did. Offren, who bore a scar from an encounter with a human boat, and hated all split-tails because of it. Finally, Gile and Moral, who thought and acted as one.
Jeenai could fight them all, but that meant he'd lose his legs. He'd lose Helena. Instead, he turned and did what he had never before done in his life when faced with a conflict. He ran.
For the first time since discovering her fiancé's true nature, Helena had slept the entire night through with only pleasant dreams. She woke rested in an empty bed, with sunlight shining golden through her window and a pleasant ache over every single inch of her body.
She rolled over and hugged her pillow, which smelled of him. At some time during the night, her dream man must have shared the bed with her, though now he was gone. A wave of warmth swept over her at the memories of what they had shared. Had it only been two days ago that she'd found him?
Two days of bliss. Two days of the most incredible sex with the most perfect man. She sniffed the pillow again to convince herself this wasn't all just part of her dream. If this wasn't a dream, that meant one of two things. This was real, or she was crazy.
"I don't feel crazy," Helena said aloud. She felt incredibly satisfied. She'd never had sex like that, not even with herself. She'd come so many times she'd lost count.
And multiple orgasms for him? If she'd understood his sign language, that meant he'd come nearly as many times as she had. Without ejaculating, too. Pregnancy wasn't a concern for her anyway, she was on the pill, but she ought to have insisted he wear a condom. Then again, she thought with a grin she couldn't seem to get rid of, how likely was it that a merman would have STDs?
Her smile faded. Unless she really was crazy, and he was some lunatic she'd found on the beach and brought home to fuck indiscriminately.
She thought of the way he communicated with his hands, his webbed fingers, the color of his skin and the black depths of his eyes. If he wasn't a merman, what was he?
Helena had too much instinct for self-preservation not to chide herself. She'd been irresponsible to bring him here in the first place. He needed medical help, but a hospital would quickly figure out he wasn't human. What would they do to him there? Fill him with needles, run tests? Maybe even keep him prisoner while they tried to figure out what, exactly, he was?
She shook her head. If it was crazy to believe the man sitting in her living room was a merman, then she was crazy. Something in her gut told her he'd told her the truth. His elegant gestures had painted a picture in the air for her. She didn't understand everything he tried to say, just as he didn't get all of her words either.
So where did that leave her? She had a man in her house. She didn't know his full name. She didn't understand how he'd come to her. Yet just the thought of him made her clit and nipples tingle with renewed desire.
After a quick shower, she found him sitting on the couch, watching television with the sound off. Maybe with his skill for sign language he could understand it better that way.
"We need to talk."
He turned his head toward her, then pushed the remote control to turn off the set.
He learns fast.
He got up from the couch and came toward her. Helena backed away, just a step, but he took the hint and stopped.
"I need to figure out where you came from."
He pointed out the window again.
"I know from the ocean." She sighed. "I think I need a bit more proof."
He looked puzzled for a minute, then made a rapid series of motions with his hands and added a low, almost barking noise.
She held up her hands. "Stop. Just...listen, can you write?"
His brow furrowed. She went to the kitchen junk drawer and handed him a pen and a notepad. "Draw? Write?"
It was hopeless to assume he would be able to write when he couldn't speak. He took the pen from her and held it up in front of his eyes. Then he looked at the pad. He shrugged.
"You don't know what a pen is, do you? Or a notepad?"
He shook his head and looked troubled. More hand motions, a few she recognized from him doing them before. Helena sighed again. If she was frustrated, she could only imagine how annoyed he must be.
She made a scribbling motion with her hand. He copied it, and made a sound of amazement at the line of ink that appeared on the paper. His face lit up. He did it again.
"Can you draw a picture of what you looked like before?"
He moved the pen on the paper some more, but only scribbles appeared. He bit his lip in concentration, but couldn't seem to master the art. Helena put her hand on his to stop him.
"It's okay. I can't draw either."
He looked down at her hand on his, then twisted his palm to link fingers with her. The webbing was softer than she'd expected. In another moment, he had pulled her into his arms. His body was warm and firm. She settled against him like they were two puzzle pieces. She tilted her head to look up at him.