Mari was dying.
There was no other way to explain how she felt. Someone had killed her and she was going to heaven. There was no way she couldn’t be. Pleasure was coursing through her, unending.
Ambrose. His mouth was so hot, so careful as he tasted her. One hand covered her breast, gently pinching her nipple, and the other was sliding over her body, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Every inch he touched, he left a hot trail behind, like someone had singed a path down her body.
He sucked hard, drawing a ragged moan from her lips. Her head fell back into the cot as the pleasure grew so intense that she couldn’t even keep her eyes open.
Mari wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but Ambrose had other things in mind. He gripped her knee, keeping her thighs parted, giving one long, last lick at her puckered breast before pulling back, staring at her with eyes to stormy it was as if she were looking into a hurricane.
“This isn’t a good idea.” His voice was nothing but a growl, and god did that get her going. Mari shook her head, grasping his shoulders and trying to drag him to her, desperate to feel his lips against hers.
“It’s a perfect idea. Just touch me, Ambrose. Or if you can’t do that, let me touch you.” If she had said that to Ray, he would have scoffed at her. But Ambrose… His eyes darkened to a stark onyx color that had a shiver racing over her whole body.
He didn’t reply to her suggestion, but he did let her guide him up so that they could look at each other levelly.
“I haven’t…been with anyone, in a while.” He said it so uncertainly that a short laugh left her.
“Of course you haven’t, you’ve been locked up in a cave with a disgusting excuse for a woman.” Then she sobered. Hands that had been roaming over his chest, desperate to touch him in any way she could, stilled. “You don’t want to do this because of her, don’t you?”
Her confidence with the situation started to deflate. Ambrose was hooked on the woman who had tortured him, or too damaged by what had happened.
She felt like kicking herself. How could she have done this to an abused man? He’d told her repeatedly that he didn’t want to, and there was obviously a reason, and she hadn’t thought deep enough into why.
“Oh, god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“ Mari began pulling herself away from him, but he forced her to stop. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, Ambrose brought her as tightly as he could against him. She was so close that she could feel his heart beating under her ear.
“The moment you touched me, I forgot about her. The only reason I don’t think this is a good idea is because I don’t want one of the best things to happen to me in two thousand years to be a regret by the one who gave me such a small joy.” He refused to look at her as he spoke, his body still thrumming, a low note of fear entering his voice.
Mari lifted her hand, touching his jaw, her lips tipping in a smile.
She couldn’t think of anything to say to that. No amount of words could explain the way he made her feel, or how relieved she was that he wasn’t thinking of the other bitch.
Instead of trying to form some sort of reply, she threaded her hands in his hair and pressed their lips together.
In an instant, the desire wrapped around them both, binding them together. Ambrose pushed her back into the bed, one of his hands sliding down the side of her body, like he was trying to memorize the shape of her. She shuddered, kissing him hard, licking along his bottom lip.
He immediately opened his mouth, accepting her, and then she lost all of the control. He took over completely, dominating the kiss, her body, her pleasure. Everything she felt was dictated by what he allowed, and no shit was given from Mari.
Moaning into his mouth, she dragged her hands down his neck, his chest, all the way to where the start of his arousal began. But before she could touch him, he grabbed her hands, taking them away and pinning them above her head.
She whimpered into his mouth, and he pulled back, growling.
“I need to be gentle…”
“No,” she said, her voice a whisper of breath. “Do what you need to, do whatever. I don’t care—just take me.”
His eyes widened before a flush darkened his cheeks, an intent gleam entering his eyes. He flashed an almost evil smile at her, causing shudders to run down her body.
Ambrose, she realized through her dazed state, was completely in his element. God, before he’d been locked up, he must have been a playboy. That look in his eye was making her wet in places that hadn’t wet before. His hands were like magic on her body, and all they were doing was touching her—and not even in the places that she wanted to be touched the most.
She grasped his hand, placing it on her breast and arching into it. “Need to feel you,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss her way up his throat, to his jaw. She nipped him roughly, unable to help the desire that was pushing her to act like this.
If this had been Ray, he would have stopped her right there. Too adventurous, he would say. Way too much for them.
Ambrose groaned, and a thrill rushed through her when she realized he wasn’t going to tell her to stop. She continued her way along his jaw, and when she came to his ear, she lightly nipped him there.
He groaned roughly. “Sweet Atlantis,” he growled, voice rumbling over her like crashing waves of desire. She shivered, curling as close against him as she could. The feel of his body was enough to drive her crazy; what would happen when he finally touched her?
His hand was rough as he kneaded her breast, but she didn’t care.
“Mari, I’m sorry—I can’t wait, I can’t do this the right way. It’s been so—long, need to have you now. So sorry,” he groaned before roughly kissing her on the lips and then settling between her thighs.
At this point, Mari didn’t care. She was far too gone with passion to even think about anything else. Opening her legs for him, she moved her hands under his so that their fingers were intertwined. If this was happening too fast, Mari didn’t care. She couldn’t. She was finally having a real man in her bed, finally being with someone who cared about their partner. She was finally able to be free with herself and this feeling of exhilaration was enough to have her moaning his name, urging him on.
As rushed as he claimed to be, he took his sweet-ass time working her into a heat.
Slowly, almost as if he were scared, he lightly touched her damp heat, dragging a moan from her throat. The fire…it was almost painful, and he wasn’t doing anything to help. Mari pushed her hips against his hand, demanding with her eyes and body that he take care of it. She’d never been this close to the brink, and it was addicting; she couldn’t get enough of it, of him.
Another moan bubbled up her throat, his hand lightly cupping her before he—
Oh god. His thick, hot finger lightly tested her entrance before dipping in.
The sounds of her cries were enough to get him hard as a rock, and if that didn’t help at all, then the clenching of her tight heat. He wasn’t even an inch in and her body was greedily asking for more.
Sweet Atlantis, this was a heaven he had dreamed of. And Mari was giving it to him.
Grasping her knee and drawing it wide, he lowered until he was eye level with her hips, spreading soft, slow kisses over her thighs and stomach. She mewled, arching under his mouth, and a shot of pleasure coursed through him. She was like liquid passion underneath him, her hands sliding into his hair and urging him lower, to the point where he wanted to taste most.
Her sweet scent wafted through the water, intoxicating him, making a hunger like nothing he’d ever felt before wash over him like a tidal wave. It was the most amazing scent he’d ever smelled before in his life, completely feminine and completely Mari, and completely his—at least for right now. And that was all he needed, all he could hope for. That a woman as strong and as beautiful as Mari was even letting herself open to him, letting him hear her sweet cries as she surrendered to him, was more than he had ever hoped for.
Ambrose reached up, lightly pinching her nipple. He loved the way her back arched into his hand when he touched her there, and loved how she gasped. It was...addicting.
As he rolled the soft piece of flesh between his thumb and forefinger, he bent down, brushing his nose against her mound.
God, he was shaking like a merguy at his first time with a woman. Which, technically, it was. All of the other women he had been with before Mari had been flings, something to amuse his playboy persona. He’d been carefree with his body. He loved the sounds a woman made. He loved the way he could make her fall a part. It was how he had lived...until meeting Ceto.
He forced the thought out of his mind, not wanting to ruin this once-in-a-lifetime moment with Mari.
Mari whimpered, the sound like a calling to the need that was rising even sharper inside of him. Unable to hold back, he gave her nipple one last gentle tug before grabbing her thigh with one hand, and then immersed himself in her heat.
Immediately, he was surrounded with…beauty. There was no way to describe it.
Mari, doing exactly the right thing to turn the passion up a notch, screamed. “Ambrose. God damn it, yes.” Her voice was throaty with desire, one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard in his life, spurring him on.
Dragging his tongue with slow, sweet torture up her slit, reveling in her moans and the way her body tensed before releasing on an exhale. He did it again, and she tensed.
“Oh—“
Ambrose closed his eyes, blocking out everything except how she tasted. He used one of his hands to gently probe her, sliding his finger in slowly and then drawing back the same time he took another lap at her.
She jerked against his mouth, crying out again. It was muffled this time, like she was covering her mouth, and he frowned.
Ambrose pulled back and saw that she was in fact covering her mouth. “I want to hear every single sound you make, so don’t you dare try to be quiet.” Her eyes flared wide, and she slowly lowered her hand. He saw the spark of lust in her eyes, saw how her eyes heated, and smiled.
“Good girl,” he growled, dipping his head again.
He was so focused on tasting her, having her in his mouth, that he didn’t notice she was pushing at his shoulders until she whispered his name frantically—without the tone of desire that it had previously held.
“No,” he snarled, gripping her thighs tightly as she struggled to push him back. “Have to have you.”
“Ambrose, someone is at the door!” she whispered fiercely, shoving at him harder. His eyes flicked to hers, the haze of desire clouding his vision way too much—
And then he heard it.
Someone was pounding at the door like they were trying to break into the room with force. Snarling, he gave Mari a dark, heated look before surging to his feet, body thrumming with enough adrenaline to take out an army.
“This isn’t over,” he said, watching as she nodded, her eyes still dark with desire. The beast that was raging in him began to recede. He still felt the all-consuming need to have her, take her, but if there was a threat to her…Ambrose would take care of that first.
He yanked open the door, about to rip someone’s head off, when he saw who was standing at the door.
“Ah—Ki—Sir,” the man with one eye, Carlayo, stuttered, trying to look past his shoulder at Mari. Ambrose couldn’t stop the low growl that came out of his chest as he moved to block the man’s vision. No one was allowed to see Mari like that. Even if she had graced Ambrose with her body, no man was worthy enough.
“Ambrose. Just call me Ambrose. What do you want?” It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t form a real sentence—no, it was all Mari’s.
Carlayo looked back at Ambrose, noticing his state of undress. Unease filtered through the man’s face, but Ambrose couldn't care less. The sooner he got back to Mari, the better.
“Ceto was here,” he said, backing away from Ambrose.
Instantly, he snapped to attention. “Ceto? You’re certain?”
Carlayo nodded. “One of my men gave you a cloaking spell the second we saw her coming. We sent on her way but she left us with a message…”
Ambrose could hear Mari moving around behind him, most likely trying to hear what they were saying. He cast her a glance before stepping out of the room, completely naked, and closing the door behind him. Not like he cared—merman were naked till the day they died, no matter the scales or lack thereof.
“What was it?” Sweet Atlantis, he could only imagine. Ceto was terrifying when she wanted to be—which was all the time. There was no wonder why the man who had almost killed him was scared beyond his wits.
Carlayo’s eyes scanned the hall way quickly, making sure no one was listening. Then he leaned in close, whispering it so softly he could barely be heard.
Ambrose paled.