Page 31 of Kiss for My Kraken (Fairhaven Falls #8)

L ater, as midnight approached and the festival began to wind down, they made their farewells, promising to return for the rebuilding efforts at the shack the following day.

They walked hand-in-hand towards the river, Ozzie trotting contentedly ahead of them after an evening of being spoiled with treats by festival-goers charmed by his friendly nature.

The night was clear and cool, stars scattered like diamond dust across the velvet sky. The path to the river was lit with small lanterns, guiding their way through the trees. She felt a pleasant weariness settling into her bones, the good kind that came from joy rather than exertion.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked him, though his relaxed posture and easy stride already told her the answer.

“More than I expected,” he admitted. “It was… illuminating.”

“How so?”

He was quiet for a moment, considering his words. “I’ve watched this town for a long time,” he finally said. “Observed its people, its celebrations, its quiet moments. But I always saw myself as separate, apart. Tonight…”

“Tonight you were part of it,” she finished for him when he trailed off.

He nodded, squeezing her hand. “Because of you.”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “You were always part of Fairhaven Falls, Sam. You just didn’t realize it.”

They reached the riverbank, where the small rowboat waited to carry them across to Sam’s island. As always, she felt a thrill at the sight of it—her island now too, her home.

He helped her into the boat, and tonight he didn’t slip into the water but took up the oars instead. She settled back to watch him, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin as he rowed.

The river was calm tonight, its surface a mirror reflecting the stars above. Ozzie sat at the bow, nose lifted to catch the scents carried on the night breeze. Everything felt peaceful, perfect, as if the universe had aligned precisely to create this moment.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, noticing her contemplative expression.

She smiled, reaching out to trail her fingers through the cool water. “About how lucky I am. How, out of all the places I could have ended up, I found Fairhaven Falls. And you.”

His rowing never faltered, but his expression softened in the moonlight. “I’m the lucky one,” he countered. “After all, you’re the one who had to fall in love with a kraken.”

She laughed, the sound echoing across the water. “As if that was difficult. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, tentacles and all.”

The island drew closer, its familiar silhouette a welcome sight. The cabin’s windows glowed with warm light—Sam must have left lanterns burning for their return.

Home.

Such a simple word for such a profound concept. She had moved so many times over the past two years, fleeing from place to place, never feeling settled, never feeling safe. But this island, this cabin, this life with Sam—it filled a void in her she hadn’t even realized was there.

The boat gently bumped against the dock, and Sam secured it before offering her his hand. She took it, allowing him to help her onto the dock even though she no longer needed the assistance. Some gestures were worth preserving for the connection they created.

They climbed the path to the cabin together, Ozzie racing ahead to claim his favorite spot by the hearth. The night air had grown cooler, and she looked forward to the warmth waiting inside, to curling up with Sam in their shared bed, to waking beside him in the morning.

“Nina,” he said suddenly, pausing on the path. His expression was serious, almost solemn in the moonlight.

“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head inquiringly.

He took both her hands in his, his massive palms dwarfing hers. “I need you to know something.”

She waited, giving him the time he needed to find his words. One of the things she loved most about him was his thoughtful nature, the way he considered his words carefully before speaking.

“Before you,” he finally said, “I existed. I survived. I watched life happen around me, but I wasn’t truly living it.

” His thumbs traced gentle patterns on the backs of her hands.

“You didn’t just give me love, little minnow.

You gave me life. A reason to emerge from the shadows, to engage with the world again. ”

Her throat tightened. “Sam?—”

“Let me finish,” he said gently. “I need to say this.”

She nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.

“I’ve experienced isolation so profound it became my entire identity.” His voice dropped lower, more intense. “But in all those years, in all those experiences, I never knew joy like I’ve found with you. Never knew home could be a person as much as a place.”

A tear escaped, sliding down her cheek. He caught it with a gentle finger, his touch infinitely tender despite his strength.

“I love you, Nina,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “And I will spend every day of the rest of my life showing you how much.”

She launched herself into his arms, unable to contain the emotions swelling within her. He caught her easily, holding her as if she weighed nothing, his strong arms a sanctuary she never wanted to leave.

“I love you too,” she whispered against his neck. “So much it scares me sometimes.”

His chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Nothing scares you,” he said proudly. “You faced down your past without flinching. You embraced a monster without hesitation.”

She pulled back enough to look into his eyes, cupping his face between her palms. “You’re not a monster,” she said fiercely. “You never were.”

“In the eyes of many, I would be.”

“Then they’re blind, and they don’t matter. What matters is here.” She placed a hand over his heart, feeling its strong, steady beat beneath her palm. “What matters is us.”

His expression softened into a smile, one of those rare, full smiles that transformed his entire face. “Us,” he repeated, as if savoring the word. “I like the sound of that.”

“So do I,” she agreed, rising on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips.

What began as a gentle affirmation quickly deepened into something more heated, more urgent. The emotions of the evening—the joy, the acceptance, the profound sense of belonging—channeled into physical desire, a need to connect on every level possible.

He lifted her into his arms without breaking the kiss, carrying her the rest of the way to the cabin. Ozzie, already inside, barely lifted his head from his paws as they entered, too accustomed to their displays of affection to be bothered.

The cabin was warm and welcoming, smelling of woodsmoke and river and home. He carried her to their bed, and followed her down, his weight carefully balanced above her, his eyes questioning.

“Yes,” she answered the unspoken question, pulling him closer. “Always yes.”

His mouth captured hers again, his hands moving with confident familiarity over her body. She arched into his touch, her own hands seeking the fastenings of his clothing. It took only moments for them to shed their festival finery, to become two bodies intertwined on the soft blankets.

“I need you,” she murmured against his mouth, her fingers threading through his hair. “Now.”

He made a low sound of agreement, his hand slipping between her thighs to find her already wet and ready for him. “My impatient minnow,” he murmured fondly, stroking her gently.

Her hips bucked, seeking more friction. “Less teasing, more tentacles.”

His laugh vibrated through her. “As my lady commands.”

In the next moment, she felt the familiar sensation of his lower body transforming, his legs separating and shifting into thick, powerful tentacles that twined around her, holding her securely.

The tip of one found its way to her entrance, slipping inside her with ease and drawing a gasp of pleasure from her lips.

“Yes,” she hissed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just like that.”

He kissed her again, his tongue sliding against hers as his tentacle worked deeper, stretching her deliciously. Her legs fell open, inviting more, inviting everything.

A second tentacle joined the first, twisting and writhing alongside its partner, filling her completely. She moaned into his mouth, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. The sense of fullness was almost overwhelming, the sensation of being utterly possessed by him.

He began to move, his powerful body rocking into hers with steady, sure strokes. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, the ridged suckers of his tentacle creating delicious friction with every motion.

One of the tentacles curled and twisted, finding that secret spot inside her and rubbing it mercilessly. She cried out, her body arching into his, her fingers clawing at his back.

“That’s it, little minnow,” he growled against her neck, his voice low and rough with desire. “Give yourself to me.”

She did, surrendering completely to the sensations coursing through her. His mating arm rubbed between their bodies, slick and warm and insistent. She shuddered as the first tendrils of climax began to unfurl within her, curling outward from her core.

“Sam,” she gasped, her eyes wide and unfocused. “I’m?—”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let go.”

She obeyed, letting the pleasure crest and break over her, wave after wave of ecstasy leaving her trembling and breathless. He held her through it, his movements never slowing, prolonging her orgasm until she was limp and boneless beneath him.

Only then did he let himself follow her into bliss, his own climax shuddering through him, filling her with liquid warmth. He collapsed against her, his weight a comfortable anchor as they both floated in a haze of satisfaction and love.

After what could have been minutes or hours, he carefully extricated himself from her embrace, slipping from her body and transforming back into his more human shape. She made a soft sound of protest at the loss, and he chuckled softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, gathering her against his side and pulling a blanket over them both. “I just don’t want to crush you.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst way to go,” she mumbled sleepily. “What happens now?”

“Now?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Now we sleep.”

“And then we live,” she finished for him, smiling against his skin. “Happily ever after.”

“Is that how human stories end?” he asked curiously.

She nodded. “The good ones.”

He was quiet for a moment, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her back. “I think I like human stories,” he finally said.

“Good,” she murmured, already drifting towards sleep, secure in his embrace. “Because ours is just beginning.”

As sleep claimed her, the images of the day drifted through her mind—the festival lights, the dancing, the acceptance in the eyes of her new community. But most of all, she carried the certainty that she had found her place in the world, her person, her home.

In Fairhaven Falls. With Sam. Forever.

It was, indeed, the perfect happy ending.

And an even better beginning.