Filed To Story: The Saltwater Curse Book PDF Free
“Of course.” He nods, brow wrinkling in annoyance that I’m even suggesting he doesn’t. “More than anything.”
His answer tips my axis. I believe him at the same time I reel at the blatant manipulation.
I’d rather be a cynic than be made a fool of again.
“Then you can’t keep me down here. I’ll grow crazy. I need food and water,” I insist.
A piercing pain shoots through my stomach at the reminder. The last time I was deprived of food and water, it was because Tommy thought I embarrassed him at dinner because I reached over someone to get something. It was so mundane, I can’t remember who or what was involved.
Ordus tenses like he’s about to get up.
“Human food,” I correct before he can catch fish again.
He falters, lips pursed, hesitating as he glances between me and the cavern. Slowly, like he’s scared I might bolt if he moves too quickly, he offers me his hand. “Come.”
The tentacle caresses my leg. I swallow. “Where are you taking me?”
“Land.”
14
Ordus
“We’re not gonna fit.”
“We’ll fit,” I assure her.
It’ll be a tight squeeze—it already is without my mate clinging to me, a fact that has my purr doubling in volume.
Cindi, my mate, the human who despises every part of me, is holding me like her life depends on it.
Likely because it does depend on it.
I won’t let her fall, of course. The thought of the cuts and bruises that would mar her body from the fall is enough to momentarily replace my purr with a growl.
“Let go of my neck.” It kills me to say it.
“Are you crazy?”
“It is not a term?—“
“I’m not letting go.”
Oh, she did not expect an answer.
How am I meant to know when her questions require a response? Are all human females this confusing?
Cindi’s stomach vibrates against me, and I frown. I’m worried she still has not eaten. How often must humans feed per day? Once? Twice? Five times?
The food shops on the mainland are always busier during midday and at night. So…only twice? She has to feed more often than that. Cindi is so small, I can feel her ribs through her dress. More concerning is that she feels more weightless than she did yesterday, yet she continues to refuse the fish I caught for her.
If my mate will not accept the fish I hunt for her, she may be more willing to feed if it was brought by Vasz. A sound of displeasure startles in my throat. I don’t like any male giving anything to my Cindi.
Cindi glances at the rocks below and defeats all forms of impossibility by tensing even more. I flatten my palm against her upper back, silently urging her to comply with my request. I prefer her arms not be exposed to avoid injury.
A moment passes, both of us staying completely still in the narrow passageway above the pool. There are two different accesses from the cave to get to land. This is the fastest way. The alternative is through the tunnel to the side of the cavern I blocked to keep bats from flying into the den.
I would have taken the longer route if Cindi hadn’t insisted on walking. Her feet are wounded because of my lack of attentiveness. I will not make that mistake twice.
The tunnel is very narrow. Some rocks jut out with sharpened edges. I had intended on cocooning around her, sacrificing my own skin to the stone, but she continues to insist on being difficult.
Humans.
“I will not let you hurt your hands.” Her legs are already wrapped around my waist after minutes of arguing. Despite the many times I’ve assured her I will not let her fall, that my arm and tentacle will hold on to her, she refuses to comply and let me take the brunt of any scrapes.
In truth, I don’t want her to let go. I never do. The feeling of being held—willingly touched—is foreign. I could get addicted to it. I’m already mourning the moment where she’ll inevitably let go.
“No.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
She shoots me a scathing glare.
I sigh, readjusting my limb beneath her backside and around her waist to take more of her weight.
I continue through the tunnel, using my free arm and tentacles to suction us to the path and keep moving us upward. Her thighs tighten around me, and my breeding arm hardens. It remains that way as we crawl closer to the sunlight.
Alone, I can get to land in a matter of seconds. Today, I take my time, tightening my hold on Cindi so she’s flush against my chest, making her small breasts push up. I can’t help stealing glances when she isn’t looking.
Her sex is taunting me. I can taste her warmth on my suckers through the layers of fabric. My cock twitches against the rock. I want to dip my tentacle beneath her dress and suck on her nipple again to see if I can get her to make the good type of sounds.
But every inhale is sobering. Her scent is tainted by fear, and not the kind that leads to her screaming and fighting, only cranky. Maybe it’s because of her hunger as well.
Vasz gets that way when he hasn’t eaten.
With her silent—and only partially trusting—in my hold, I can almost imagine what it would be like if she didn’t hate me. We would lie in our den, and she would wrap her arms and legs around me just for the mere fact that she wants to. Because she wants to feel me. We’d stay like that for hours while my hands and limbs roam over her.
Then she’d look up at me, and she’d smile. A real smile. A genuine one. Only for me. And my hearts would swell because the Goddess blessed me with a mate capable of loving me back.
But that is a fool’s dream, wishful thinking that holds no merit.
At least like this, her head tucked beneath my chin, warm against me, I don’t need to see the evidence of her disdain written all over her face. My suckers pulse, releasing a whisper of toxin into her to relax her muscles.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.