Page 13 of Captured by the Cthulhu (Monster Mates #3)

Chapter 13

Depths of Desire

Roark

I’ve sailed treacherous seas in my time, weathered storms that would make Poseidon himself take pause, and commanded men who thought themselves the bravest souls to ever set foot on a ship’s deck.

Yet nothing in my many years has prepared me for the trust in Ashe’s eyes as she considers my offer to share essence.

The moonlight catches in her auburn hair as she stands at the water’s edge, hesitant yet unafraid. A remarkable woman—practical, determined, with a heart as vast as the ocean itself.

“You needn’t look so concerned, Miss Morgan,” I say softly, extending my hand toward her in invitation rather than demand. “I give you my word as a captain that you’ll come to no harm.”

Her lips quirk in that half-smile that has become so dear to me. “Your word as a captain, huh? Is that supposed to be reassuring coming from someone who probably made sailors walk the plank?”

“I never once made a man walk the plank,” I protest with mock offense. “Highly impractical punishment. Wasted good manpower.” I pause. “The threat of it, however, proved remarkably effective for maintaining discipline.”

She laughs, taking a step closer to the water, moonlight silvering her bare skin.

“So this ‘sharing of essence,’” she says, dipping one toe in the water. “What exactly am I signing up for, Captain?”

“It is a gift my kind can offer to those we—” I catch myself before saying too much. “To those we trust implicitly. My body will extract oxygen from the water and share it with yours. My vision will become your vision in the darkness. The pressure of the depths will not harm you.”

“And this happens through kissing?” She raises an eyebrow, curiosity rather than skepticism in her expression.

“That is how it begins,” I acknowledge, feeling the subtle patterns beneath my skin brightening with my rising temperature. “It requires an exchange that is most efficiently conducted mouth to mouth.”

“Efficiently conducted,” she repeats, amusement in her eyes. “You make it sound so romantic.”

I feel a surge of embarrassment. “Forgive me. The poetry of human courtship was never my strong suit. What I mean to say is that it will be… pleasant. For us both.”

She wades deeper, water now lapping at her calves. “Is doing this a big deal for your kind?”

“It is. It creates a connection beyond the physical. For a time, you will sense what I feel. I may glimpse fragments of your thoughts, your memories. It is an intimacy few of my kind risk with those not of our species.”

“Why offer it to me, then?”

Because you looked at the monster and saw not something to fear but someone to help , I think but don’t say. Because in my century of existence, I have never met a soul who makes me feel less alone.

I say instead, “Because the wonders beneath the waves deserve to be seen as I see them. And because you deserve to experience them without the limitations of your human form.”

Her eyes narrow. “And that’s all?”

Under her perceptive gaze, I’m unable to maintain the pretense. “No,” I concede softly. “I offer it because I wish to share something of myself with you that goes beyond words. Beyond what we have already shared.” I extend my hand, palm up. “But the choice must be entirely yours.”

She studies me, then takes my hand. “So this doesn’t hurt?”

“No,” I promise, gently drawing her deeper. “There may be a moment of discomfort as your body adapts. A feeling of pressure, perhaps brief disorientation. But then… Then there is only wonder.”

She places her palms against my chest, and the patterns beneath my skin brighten at her touch.

“You’re glowing,” she murmurs, tracing the luminescent patterns.

“An inconvenient trait when attempting to maintain one’s dignity,” I confess. “Rather like those old maritime flags—broadcasting my state to anyone with eyes to see.”

Her smile is soft. “I think it’s beautiful. Honest.” Her hand slides lower, tracing the transition where humanoid torso meets tentacle. “So how do we do this? Just dive in?”

“We should move to deeper water. You’ll need to hold your breath initially until the sharing takes effect.”

She nods, letting me guide her farther from shore. When the water reaches her shoulders, she stops.

“What do you get from this?” she asks suddenly. “Besides watching me flop around like a fish out of water, except… in water?”

The unexpected humor pulls a low chuckle from me. “I promise, there will be no flopping. You’ll move through the water as naturally as I do.” I pause. “As for what I gain… There is a certain joy in witnessing someone experience my world for the first time.”

“And?” she prompts, sensing there’s more.

“And for one who has spent most of a century in solitude, even a temporary connection is precious.”

Something in her expression softens. “Then let’s connect, Captain.” She moves closer, her body pressing against mine. “Show me your world.”

I encircle her waist with two tentacles, supporting her as I guide us into deeper water. “Take a deep breath,” I instruct. “And when you can no longer hold it, open your mouth to mine. Trust me, and don’t fight what follows.”

She inhales deeply and nods her readiness, her eyes holding mine with complete trust.

Together, we submerge.

Underwater, her hair flows like dark sea grass, her skin luminous in the filtered moonlight. I count the seconds as she holds her breath. Twenty… thirty… forty… I can see the first flickers of strain, the instinctive human panic.

I press my mouth to hers, the soft edges of my tentacle beard framing our connection as her lips part in initial desperation, then in something else entirely as the essence-sharing begins.

The ancient magic of my kind flows from me to her—not a gift given lightly, but offered now with a fullness of purpose I’ve never known before.

The transfer requires more than simple contact. My tongue slides against hers, releasing the enzyme-rich fluids that will transform her experience. I feel her initial surprise, then her surrender as understanding dawns.

I cradle her face, monitoring the subtle changes as my essence takes effect. Her tension gives way to wonder as her lungs adapt. Her eyes widen as her vision shifts, the darkness suddenly illuminated with clarity.

And then—our consciousnesses begin to blur at the edges, her emotions mingling with mine like warm currents. Surprise. Wonder. Desire. They flow into and through me, amplified by my own responses, creating a feedback loop that makes my skin pulse with light.

“I can breathe,” she mouths, though no sound emerges.

Yes, I reply in thought, knowing she will understand me now. And see. And feel as I feel.

Her wonder is pure and bright as sunlight through shallow water. I guide her deeper, revealing the hidden world below. The ocean floor glimmers with life invisible to human eyes—tiny phosphorescent creatures creating constellations more beautiful than the stars above.

It’s amazing, her thoughts reach me, tinged with awe. Like an entire universe down here.

I guide her through underwater caverns where walls sparkle with minerals, past sleeping fish nestled in coral, through forests of kelp waving like dancers. Through our shared consciousness, I feel her processing these wonders, her joy becoming mine.

But beneath the wonder, another sensation grows—desire, amplified by our shared consciousness, building like a tide neither of us wishes to resist.

Can we…? Her thought reaches me, incomplete yet perfectly clear.

Yes , I respond, my tentacles shifting their hold, no longer merely supportive but exploratory. If you wish.

Her reply comes not in thought but in action, her body pressing against mine, her mouth finding mine in a kiss that has nothing to do with oxygen transfer and everything to do with hunger.

Underwater coupling is unlike anything possible on land. Freed from gravity’s constraints, I can support her entirely, my tentacles enveloping her in a living cradle. Through our connection, I feel exactly where and how she wishes to be touched.

I guide us to a sheltered grotto, my tentacles never ceasing their gentle exploration of her body. Each caress draws gasps that form bubbles between us, each touch informed by the feedback loop of our shared consciousness.

Tell me what you desire , I urge, though her thoughts are already open to me.

Everything , comes her response, colored with both vulnerability and daring.

Her permission ignites something primal within me—the ancient nature of my kind that I carefully restrain on land. Here, in my element, I allow that restraint to slip.

I spread my tentacles wide, two wrapping firmly around her thighs, applying pressure in a deliberate rhythm that has her back arching. Her skin is a marvel under my touch, and I’m fascinated by the marks my suckers leave behind. Little red circles that bloom across her flesh like a signature.

I position her before me, her legs spread wide by my grip. For a moment, I simply devour her with my gaze—this stubborn, fierce lighthouse keeper who’s thrown both caution and clothing to the winds for me.

I want to taste you , I tell her, pulling her closer.

Unlike on land, here in the water’s embrace I can easily bring her pussy to my mouth. The first swipe of my tongue draws a silent moan from her, bubbles escaping her lips as her body bucks. My tentacles tighten, holding her steady as I feast. She tastes so perfect that I find myself growling into her flesh.

Through our link, I feel the sharp spikes of pleasure each stroke of my tongue ignites. Two particularly dexterous tentacles join the exploration, spreading her wide so my tongue can reach deeper.

Fuck, she thinks incoherently.

I hum against her flesh, sending vibrations that make her thoughts shatter. Her hands grip my shoulders, fingernails digging into my hide with enough pressure that I feel it even through my toughened skin.

Just as she teeters on the edge of climax, I pull back. Her frustrated groan reverberates through the water.

Not yet , I tell her, rotating her body with fluid motions, positioning her facing away from me.

My most specialized tentacle—dexterous and swollen with arousal—slides between her thighs from behind. It circles her entrance in teasing spirals that have her silently begging.

Please , she thinks, the word tinged with desperate need. I need you inside me.

I push forward, my cock pressing into her. Unlike my previous explorations on land, here I can feel exactly how she perceives each sensation—the stretch as I enter her, the friction of my textured flesh against her inner walls.

More , she demands, pressing back against me.

I slide deeper, feeling her body tense then relax as I fill her completely. The specialized suckers along this particular tentacle—more sensitive than those on my other limbs—pulse against her inner walls, drawing a fresh wave of pleasure that crashes through our mental link.

My remaining tentacles continue their thorough exploration of her body, two curling around to cup her breasts, thumbing her hardened nipples with rhythmic pressure. Another slides around her neck—not restricting, but possessive, feeling her pulse hammer against my flesh. Two more wrap around her thighs, spreading her wider as I begin to thrust in earnest.

Her pussy grips my cock like a vise, hot and slick and perfect. I establish a rhythm that has her mentally babbling, incoherent praise and curses mingling in her thoughts as I drive into her. I sense exactly when to adjust—faster, harder, deeper—reading her body’s responses and giving her exactly what she needs.

My treasure , I tell her. So tight. So perfect for me.

Her response is wordless pleasure tinged with pride. Through our link, I feel her satisfaction at reducing me to such raw hunger, at stripping away my careful control as it’s replaced by a primal need to claim her as mine.

I send another tentacle sliding between her beautifully rounded ass, circling that tight entrance with teasing pressure. Through our connection, I sense her momentary hesitation, then burning curiosity. The tip of my tentacle produces a natural slick substance that eases its careful entry.

Oh fuck , she thinks, her mental voice high and breathless as I breach that second entrance. Oh God, that’s—

Too much? I pause, concerned despite my raging need.

No! Her response is immediate. Don’t you dare stop.

I resume my careful invasion, penetrating her from both entrances while my remaining tentacles continue their attention to the rest of her body. The dual sensation has her trembling, her pleasure spiraling so high I worry she might lose consciousness.

Through our link, I feel her approaching climax—a tightening coil of sensation so intense it borders on pain. My own release builds, my skin flashing with patterns of blue-white light. Neither of us can hold back now.

Come for me , I command.

Her climax comes in powerful waves, her inner walls clenching around both my invading tentacles. The sensation triggers my release, my cum pumping into her in hot pulses until it overflows into the water.

For several minutes, we float suspended in the aftermath, my tentacles still buried inside her, her mind a hazy blur of satisfaction against mine. Gradually, I withdraw from her body, turning her to face me once more.

Her expression is dazed, her lips parted as tiny bubbles escape with each breath. Through our fading mental link, I feel her bone-deep satisfaction mingled with wonder. I gather her against my chest, my tentacles cocooning her for a few rejuvenating minutes.

I could stay with her like this for hours, but I know human bodies are fragile. We should return to the surface , I tell her reluctantly.

Her disappointment flows through our link. So soon?

Another time, we can stay longer , I promise. But for your first experience, it’s best not to push your limits.

I guide us slowly upward. As we approach the surface, a flash of white light cuts through the water—artificial and harsh.

Someone’s out there , she realizes, her alarm spiking through me.

I pull us deeper immediately, swimming horizontally rather than surfacing.

Nighttime fishing vessel , I explain, recognizing the distinctive searchlight pattern.

We stay submerged, moving quickly through darker waters until we’re safely away. Only then do I bring us to the surface, emerging beneath an overhang of rock.

Ashe gasps as her head breaks the water, pulling in familiar air. The moonlight catches the droplets on her skin, making her appear almost ethereal.

“That was close,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.

“Too close,” I agree, helping her toward shore. “Such encounters will only increase as summer progresses.”

She’s quiet as I guide her back to land, the weight of our shared predicament settling upon us both. The essence-sharing has begun to fade, our mental connection weakening, but I can still sense the conflict within her—the lingering pleasure of our underwater coupling giving way to the stark reality of our situation.

Once ashore, I wrap her in the blanket I’d set aside earlier, noting how she leans into my touch with an easy familiarity that makes me feel something dangerously close to hope.

“We can’t live like this forever,” she says finally, voicing the thought that has been haunting us both. “Stolen moments. Always looking over our shoulders.”

“No,” I agree. “We cannot.”

Back in the cabin, exhaustion overcomes us both. I watch her drift to sleep in my grasp, her expression peaceful despite the complications that await us. I allow myself to imagine a different world—one where I could walk beside her without fear, where our connection need not be hidden.

As she shifts closer in her sleep, one hand unconsciously seeking mine, I wonder if perhaps it’s time to emerge from the shadows. Cape Tempest may never fully welcome one such as me, but for her sake, I would risk the attempt.

This stolen happiness, these hidden encounters—they sustain me, but they aren’t enough for her. Ashe deserves a companion who can stand beside her in daylight, not merely a lover who appears with the tide and vanishes with the dawn.

As sleep finally claims me, one thought persists: something must change. For both our sakes.