Page 12 of Seducing Scylla (Mated Myths #1)

Scylla

I let the fire slowly die so I do not have to bank it in the morning and lay quietly in the peacefulness of the dark.

Morgan tosses and turns, and I itch to ease her discomfort.

Does she need more furs? Is she too hot?

I watch her in the shadows, her body hidden beneath the furs, only her face and hair visible.

The soft glow illuminates her orange hair like a flame itself.

She huffs quietly, and I realize she is not asleep at all.

The furs shift slightly as she rolls onto her back.

She closes her eyes, her lips parted, and I think she has drifted off, but then the furs move in a rhythmic motion, and Morgan pants softly.

My body goes rigid. She is pleasuring herself, while I am here beside her.

I inhale deeply, the smell of her arousal thickens in the cave, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hands fisted at my sides to stop me from reaching over and taking care of her myself .

I growl softly. My mate should not have to pleasure herself when I can do it for her. But she does not know yet. The sooner we get to the hot spring, the better. We will have another half day of travel before we reach the Pierian Spring and then my mate can wash, and we can fix this problem.

She comes with a soft gasp, her release quicker than I expected, but I am glad for it as I do not think I could control myself for much longer.

The urge to peel back the furs and run my tongue along her soft body makes me shudder with anticipation.

She rolls toward me, and I meet her gaze in the shadows.

Her eyes widen when she realizes I am watching her, teeth nibbling at that plump bottom lip of hers.

She squeezes her eyes shut, brows furrowing, and turns her back to me.

I bristle. Does she not know you should never turn your back on an apex predator?

I run my tongue along the sharp points of my teeth, fighting the urge to turn her back to me, to show her the consequences of dismissing me with my tongue and hands, teeth, and tentacles.

I will have her begging for mercy beneath me as I wring release after release from her delicious body.

My limbs twitch around me and I touch the delicate base of my abdomen where my eight tentacles extend from my body.

The silken skin there is sensitive to touch, and I massage it, groaning as heat radiates through me.

Soon, I hope, I will be able to have Morgan in all ways.

Soft morning light streams through the chimney in the ceiling of the cave.

Morgan groans beneath the furs, her eyes popping open as I pull them off her.

She scowls at me, and I smirk. My mate is not a morning person, it seems. Her hair is further knotted from her tossing and turning in the night, sticking out from her head in all directions.

It does little to make her appear intimidating.

I appease her grumpiness by handing her some food—more dried mango—and I make a mental note to replenish this cave’s food stores again.

Still, she eats it with no complaints, which makes me beam at her with pride. My mate is resilient.

Once we have broken our fast, I lift Morgan into my arms, eliciting a squeal from her.

I hum, amused at her protest. Her foot is not mended enough to walk on, and I do not want to prolong our journey any more than I have to.

So, carry her, I must. Although, it is no hardship to me.

Having her body close to mine ignites a fire in me and soothes my soul.

I like the way her softness feels beneath my tentacles as they wrap themselves around her almost subconsciously. My body and my brain need her close.

A pink flush spreads up her neck and across her cheeks as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. She refuses to make eye contact with me, and I worry that I have done something wrong.

Is she angry at me for having watched her pleasure herself last night?

One can hardly blame me when she was in the same room.

Or perhaps her release was not enough. I purse my lips.

If that is the case, it can be easily remedied.