Page 8 of Filthy Wishes

Eighteen-ish Months Later

The gestation period of mermaids is short, but being a human, we didn’t know what was going to happen, but six months to the day after meeting Tridenton, I gave birth to our son, Jayden. We are in Corfu right now. Even at a month old little Jayden, the prince that he is, is such a strong swimmer, like both of his parents. I balked at the thought of him being in the ocean so young, but Tridenton and all of my in-laws set me straight. He needs it, and as his mother, I want him to have it all. Jayden knows what to do instinctively, and we would never leave him alone. I’ve learned that even human babies are born knowing what to do in the water; you just have to supervise. I watch my husband and my baby splash around near the shore as I get some sun, and my heart feels full.

In the end, I decided not to pursue a gold medal. It really wouldn’t be fair now. Due to the mating bond, I can will my fin into existence anytime I want to, and I don’t feel pain when I don’t. It really is the best of both worlds.

“Where is my nephew?” Ulyana asks, coming down to thebeach from the house.

“With your brother,” I say, laughing and pointing toward them.

“I was promised auntie snuggle time. Tridenton, bring me that baby,” she yells after cupping her hand near her mouth.

Tridenton looks so powerful as he comes out of the water holding our son. Jayden is a happy baby, barely a year old, but he’s laughing as Tridenton says something silly to him. I lick my lips as I watch the water slide down his muscular chest in rivulets. Jayden holds out his chubby little hands to me, leaning down from his daddy. I take him in my arms so that I can give him lots of kisses before I hand him to Ulyana.

“We’ll be inside soon,” I tell her, not wanting to pawn him off on anyone.

“Nonsense, you two have some fun. I’ve got him,” she says, walking away with him in her arms. He toddles already but definitely milks it when someone wants to hold or carry him. I can hear her singing to him, and it’s such a lovely sound. She is so unlike her twin, Soraya, who won’t sing a word.

“Join me for a swim, wife?” Tridenton asks with just a hint of mischief in his voice, holding out his hand to me. I take his hand and welcome the warmth that comes over me. Even after all this time, the merest touch from him sets me on fire.

“Of course.” Silently we walk into the water. It’s getting dark, but that doesn’t matter much. We swim out to where we can’t stand anymore. Then his lips are on mine, and I forget that we are even in the water.

“Tridenton,” I whisper urgently, knowing precisely what kind of kiss that was and where this is leading.

“Sally,” he rasps into my ear before trailing kisses down my body. He pushes the top of my bathing suit out of his way and wraps his lips around my nipple. My head drops back, and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming loudly. He worships one nipple before moving to the other. My nails diginto his shoulders as I hang on for dear life. Finally, mercifully, he reaches between us and opens his swim trunks. His hard length pushes at my entrance, but my bathing suit is in the way. He pushes the fabric to the side and slams into me. He holds my hips as he pounds in and out of me. The water around us seemingly moves out of our way as we join together. Tridenton can control the water with a trident, but sometimes I think his mind can do it too, just exactly when he needs it.

Over and over, he dominates my pussy, and all I can do is hold on as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over me. He’s coaxed several orgasms out of me now, but he’s still going strong.

“Tri, please,” I beg; I am not sure what it is I am begging for, but I beg, nonetheless. He must know what I need because he thrusts his cock into me as far as it will go and fills me up. I feel like a goddess when he does this—every time.

“We’re going to be so happy together, “ he murmurs as he pulls out of me. I grab his face and pull him close to me.

“We already are,” I remind him before kissing him soundly.

“Let me get you into a bed so I can love you properly,” he says.

“I think that ship has sailed,” I say, laughing. I will my fin to come out, then splash him with it. “Catch me, if you can,” I taunt him before swimming away. He can’t resist this. I know him too well.

“You’ll be sorry when I do catch you,” he growls playfully before I hear him splash after me.

Sorry? Pleased is more like. Pleasured as well.

I was born for this beautiful merman, and I will die beside him. My life was nothing but swimming before, but now it’s so much more. I am treasured like I never thought I would be, and that’s more than enough for me.

Epilogue

Tridenton

September 2032

Rosie has left home in the middle of the night. We know that something is getting closer, and we can’t do anything to prevent it; we can only help her save our kind. I hate that it’s fallen on her shoulders, but she seems to be able to handle it.

“Sally?” I ask, coming into the house. We are in our London townhouse right now. Next door is Gareth and Hortencia. We try to stick together when we are on land. Given the threat that we don’t have much information on, it seems smart.

“In here,” she calls from the kitchen. We just celebrated our eleventh wedding anniversary last month. We married in a civil ceremony here on land, but the real celebration was underwater after she willed her tail to come the first time. With seaweed wrapped around our hands, we were joined to one another for all eternity, in this life and all the lives in the hereafter. The best day of my life. I came alive the day I met her. Gone was the sulking merman who darkened the oceans. I became the merman I was always meant to be with her by myside.

“Something smells delicious,” I groan. I spent the day working on plans for our home in Bath. Sally and I long to be near the sea more often than not these days, and Bath reminds her of a Jane Austen novel, so Bath it is. When my father passed away six months ago, I became king of the Vanne tribe, and we split our time between London and the sea-castle off of the coast of Corfu.

“Thanks, dinner is almost ready,” she says, stepping back quickly as our nine and seven-year-old sons, Jayden and Porter, run in front of her. Our little mer-princes are our life, but they aren’t spoiled. They know the value of hard work and dedication. It’s my job to see that they know how to rule as they have already decided to do it together when the time comes—no feuds among brothers. Best friends from the moment Porter was born, I can’t fault them. Besides, two heads are better than one, as Jayden likes to say.