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She laughs softly. “Don’t be sorry. Having this around my wrist gave me… ideas.”

Fuck, just the thought of that… of keeping Nora bound, completely at my mercy… I shouldn’t entertain it for a single second, not when we’re meant to be taking a step back and taking things slowly.

She seems to clock that conflict on my face, because she stays quiet, still touching me and waiting for me to reason things out on my own time.

Like that’s even possible right now.

With Nora here, in this space, it’s all I can do to keep a grip on my sanity.

This is the closest thing to a lair I can claim. Muted grays and dark blues to mimic the hues of sea caves on remote islands. Cool, smooth tiles on the floor. An enormous saltwater pool to disappear in for a while.

On my more stressful days, I sleep submerged, fully shifted and cradled by the water. In eras past, my ancestors wouldn’t have kept more than a sea cave above the water for a dwelling. Even that would have mainly served as a repository for treasures, with the bulk of their lives lived beneath the sea.

And now that my own treasure is in my lair, still touching one of my tentacles, still with that wicked little smile fixed on her lips…

A thrill of primal, undeniable instinct pulses through me, and I grit my teeth to keep from reaching for her.

It’s the reason I’ve mostly kept her out of this space. Not because I don’t want her here—quite the opposite, actually. I want her here too much. The monstrous part of me would wrap her up and keep her safe, tuck her away somewhere she can’t be harmed. It would have me be greedy with her here, worship her here.

But if my little siren wants to be worshiped, if my treasure wants me to be selfish and greedy with her…

I give my head a sharp shake, and Nora frowns.

“What is it?”

“I… I don’t want to go back on my word to provide you the time and space you need, or pressure you for anything you’re not ready to give.”

Her frown vanishes in an instant, replaced once more by her teasing grin.

“Is that all?” she asks, leaning closer.

Every single one of my muscles tense at the invitation in her voice, in her eyes, in the sway of her body toward mine. Without my willing it to, the tentacle she’s touching wraps around her wrist once more. The hold is loose, but an unmistakable warning.

She glances down at where I have her bound. “Do you want me to go?”

I should say yes. I need to say yes. For both our sakes.

“No, Nora. I never want you to leave.”

This room. My home. My life. I’m not sure exactly which I’m referring to, probably all of them, but she’s got a place in each as long as she wants.

“Alright,” she whispers. “I’ve had a long day. A swim sounds pretty good right now.”

If there was any doubt left in my mind that Nora was mine—my mate, my siren, my biggest temptation—it evaporates instantly. In its place, a warm, inexorable heat and a primal command spreading through my veins.

“You’re welcome to join me,” I tell her, bringing another couple of tentacles up to play with the hem of the blouse she’s wearing. “But you’re wearing a few too many clothes.”

Nora nods and reaches down to lift it up.

“How much do you like this shirt?” I ask, voice lower and more gruff than I intended.

“Not much.”

It shreds with a quick jerk of my tentacles, and the pieces land somewhere near the corner of the room as I toss them aside with a careless flick.

“The bra?”

Nora laughs. “That one I think I’ll keep.”