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Never again.

We'll never lose another minute together.

Grabbing his neck, I kiss him with renewed energy, enjoying the hard shape of his teeth under my sweeping tongue. “I love you,” I whisper, kissing him between breaths. “I love you so much, Jordan. I mean it.”

“I know.” He flattens his hand on my chest to keep me on the floor. Kneeling over me, his cock flexing against his zipper, he frees it to the air. He jerks himself slowly, watching my reaction. “Ready for this?”

“I've been ready.”

Smirking, he pushes his pants lower. Revealing a condom from his pocket he, tears it open, slipping the latex down his length. I'm transfixed. I'll never tired of how erotic it is to see him touch himself.

My ass strains around the object inside. It makes his cock feel bigger, causing me to brace myself while he pushes his fat tip into me. I'm wet as I'll ever be, but it's a struggle. “Relax,” he cautions me. “Easy, easy … think about how amazing it feels to have my cock filling you up like this. That you can barely fit me, your pussy is doing all it can to get me in. Isn't that hot? Knowing how you have to work to get every,” he thrusts, “last,” I gasp, “inch?”

“Yes, please, yes!" I'm speaking mindlessly. I've never been so full. He kisses me, his tongue in my mouth—that's the last piece. No part of me is empty anymore.

Jordan drives his hips forward. I whimper on his lips. He retreats until his shaft is nearly out, just his cockhead inside, before ramming into me again. His skin grinds on my clit each time. Nimble fingers move between our bodies, tugging at my breasts. Playing expertly with my nipples, tracing his name where the ink used to spell it out, until he coaxes orgasm number three from my vibrating body.

He stops kissing me, whispering in my ear, “Good girl, sweet girl, take my cock, you're a natural, you were made for this. Your cunt wants more. Listen to it … listen to me … I'll give you everything I have until there's nothing left.

“Just come for me.

“That's all I want.

“Come for me and never stop.”

His voice is in my mind. If this is what it means to be haunted, I don't know why I was ever afraid. Jordan lives in my heart, my soul, and his cock stretches my cunt until I'm seeing colors that don't exist. Juice sticks to my skin, mixes with his sweat.

My muscles tense and snap like rubber bands every time I orgasm. I lose count, forget how numbers work. Holding tight to his firm shoulders, I unconsciously rock my hips with his until something in the air changes.

He's breathing harder. Face red, Jordan's mouth hangs open as he pants. I can see all the way to his molars. His green eyes dance towards mine, but they don't focus. He's tipping over the edge and I'm almost ashamed I've come so many times to the single one he's on the edge of grasping.

“Yes!” he roars, spine arching as he strains inside of me. His cock throbs multiple times. A bead of his sweat rolls from his neck to his chest. I put my lips there, taste his salt. When Jordan comes, I tremble with him.

Our breathing isn't the same. His is ragged, mine is slowing to a crawl. I lift a hand to caress his hair, exploring how soft it feels in the aftermath of such an intense act. Jordan is the ocean. He pushes me, pulls me, changes my shape the way water does to make sea glass.

I lounge under his weight in a sea of tranquility. When have I ever felt so safe?Never,I think, shifting to stare at his forehead. It's all I can see with his face resting on my shoulder.Being with Jordan is peaceful.I'd hoped it would be. Feared it would remain out of reach.

Many things in my life have gone astray. I suffered bleak sorrow, felt betrayed by those meant to care for me. Tasted grief while mourning an abuser, unable to forget the times before he let himself become corrupted. All of it had hardened my heart until I refused to dream of a happiness all my own.

A place where I belonged.

Jordan's hand drapes onto mine, fingers linking until we're woven together. No one can tear us apart, our roots go too deep, spreading further with each beat of our hearts.

Mermaids aren't real.

That's okay.

In the end, I found something more magical.

Epilogue

Jordan's POV

There'saspotonmy thumb. It's over three months old, invisible to the naked eye, a vague hint of healing pink on a sea of tawny peach. But I know the scar is there. I thought about it constantly for days. How she made me bleed, taste my own essence on my tongue, all from a single stray thorn.

If I hadn't tried to convince Dezmond to come with me to his mother's grave that day, I would never have driven to Windy Gardens. I'd caught him that morning, bleary eyed from another one of his many nights out. "You know what day it is?" I'd asked.

Dezmond glared at me. It was the expression I was the most used to. "Yeah."