Page 10 of Filthy Wishes
“For blessing me with the children we have and the one on the way.”
“No, no, thank you,” she giggles. “After all, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“We’ll be here all night if we keep this up, and I have entirely different plans involving the rest of the night.”
“Do you?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow at me.
“Absolutely.”
No more words are needed as I peel her robe open and find her naked as she likes to sleep. In seconds, I’ve shed my clothes and press my hard cock to her opening. I slide into her slowly until I am fully seated within her. Every time with her feels like the first time. She’s always wet for me, and I am always hard for her. Almost every night, we lose ourselves in each other, and everything is right with the world in those hours.
“Fuck,” she whispers as her pussy clenches around me.
“Come for me, Sally,” I demand, reaching between us. I rub her clit until she is quaking and gasping under me.
I fill her with my seed and pull out of her slowly, lying beside her. She snuggles into my chest.
“I don’t think we should move to Bath,” she says.
“What?”
“It’s a feeling or something. Here,” she says, putting her hand over her heart. “We’re supposed to be in Greece. Soraya and Cruiz are going to need us. Ulyana and Fin will be there too. Gareth and Hortencia will follow us. Rosie and her mate. Rosie has a mate now. Poor Tyler will need us more than he ever has.” Our twenty-year-old nephew has been wandering the world and the ocean looking for his mate, to no avail. She isn’t anywhere, or so he laments. I tried to tell him she may not have been born yet, but he insists that she has, that she’s older than he is. Thus, his wandering both aimlessly and restlessly continues.
“How do you know this?”
“This baby, Raya, is a seer, like Rosie. For now, I can see what she sees.”
“It’s a girl then.”
“It’s a girl,” she says, silent tears, but instinctively I know they are happy tears, running down her still flushed cheeks...
“Greece it is,” I reply. I always trust visions to lead us in the right direction.
“That was intense,” she whispers, then giggles.
“A little princess,” I say, putting my hand on her belly.
“A mermaid princess,” she sighs.
Armed with this new information, we are finally ready for the next step in our lives.
Bring it on.
Epilogue
Rosie
October 2032
Running away from home may not have been the best idea, but I had to. My parents don’t understand what’s coming. I’ve tried to prepare them, but they are too wrapped up in each other to care, not that I blame them. It must be glorious to be mated for life, never having to worry if your partner loves you. It’s inherently ingrained that they do. Come hell or high water, they always will. I left because he needs me. The man who’s not a man needs me.
I still don’t know who he is after all these years, but I know that he needs me. He grows more and more restless each day, but he doesn’t know I am coming for him. How could he? The box in which he’s kept is so deep in the ocean, I am not even sure I’ll survive finding him, but I have to try—my blood hums at the thought of dying for him like it’d be a privilege.
I am pretty sure I’ve dreamt of him every night of my life, but I didn’t start remembering the dreams until I was seven when my Aunt Sally married Tridenton, the new king of the Vanne tribe of which I am a member. The dreams became more vivid,eventually sexual, as I got older. Being half human-half mermaid has its advantages, but I have never felt more hindered by age in all my life. At eighteen, I am not yet a woman in any way that matters, but I have felt like one for years now. I’ve seen things that haven’t come to pass that would give most people gray hair.
Flying from London to New Zealand shouldn’t have been this hard, but after twenty-three hours and forty minutes on a plane with a brief layover in Singapore, I am standing in Auckland looking for a way to get to Great Barrier Island. All the signs in my dreams point me to that particular island. He’s under it. I don’t know how he’s under it, but he’s under it. A ferry, leaving in ten minutes, is my best bet. I purchase a ticket and settle in for the damn near five hours I’ll be on the boat. I seek out my hotel as soon as I get off the boat at Port Fitzroy.
After a small nap, I am refreshed and ready to find him. Given my genealogy, I can breathe underwater for hours before my human side wins out and needs oxygen. Leaving everything behind in the hotel room, I throw on a tankini and walk over to the beach. I say a little prayer to Amphitrite, the long-suffering wife of Poseidon and goddess of the sea, for her help before wading into the balmy, undulating, merciless, blue-green depths of my home away from home. As weird as it sounds, each time I step into the salty, wild wonder that is the sea, it feels different. It feels like what I imagine the caress of a lover will feel like, and I don’t know what that says about me.