Page 11 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge

“Elspeth, I am giving you until a count of three to open this door, I’m worried that you’re sick. Please make sure you are appropriately clothed.”

Her continued silence grated as he counted. By the time he got to three, the image of her, sick and dying in his bed, had coalesced in his mind. With a heave, he shouldered his way in, the precise application of force popping it inward easily.

He’d assumed he would find Elspeth, feverish, or perhaps asleep in his bed, recovering from her ordeal. Instead, the window was wide open, swung back on its hinges, and the wind whipped through the room. The unsecured edges of his papers ruffled in it. Rushing to shut it, Aegir noticed that his bed was a little rumpled. The silence only served to point out how empty the room felt without her filling it. He thought back to how he’d left her, tucked up into his bed, cozy and warm. He’d thought they had anagreement. He’d thought they were on the same page about their plan moving forward.

It was very clear that Elspeth kept her own counsel.

He shut the window, sitting dumbfounded on his bed. After encountering the word selkie the other day, he’d pored over several books of mythology trying to learn about them. While stories varied from culture to culture, many times the myths that had survived about magical people were more often right than not. What he had managed to find out was that they could transform into a seal via their pelt and that keeping the pelt kept them captive. He had no interest in keeping anyone captive, hence why he’d practically thrown the thing at her. Now that she had it back though, she’d taken the first opportunity she could to leave.

Why did that make the center of his chest ache? He rubbed it, hoping it would go away. She’d taken his shirt it seemed, the little minx, because it was nowhere to be found in his room.

Now that he thought on it, one book he readhadmentioned that selkies didn’t form long term relationships.3 They could be held via their pelt, but that they’d run at the firstopportunity.

Which was a shame, really. He wasn’t fond of commitment himself. Or, well—not fond was unfair. He hadn’t ever had the opportunity for a real relationship—not that he’d ever wanted one. No, he was free to sow his wild oats, and it was a shame they couldn’t have had some fun before she left. It would have been nice to not even need to address the whole “I am not staying” thing with her.

Really, she’d been quite the sweet morsel. She’d been so much smaller than he, to be sure, but she was rounded in ways that made him feel like she’d squish beautifully under his hands. Leaning back on his bed, he tucked his hands behind his head feeling his cock begin to thicken. He closed his eyes, hoping he could imagine those lush curves better. He was a gentleman, so he hadn’ttriedto look at her breasts when she was unclothed, but they had been right there, just out and about.

Jokith had often joked that Aegir’s type was “breathing,” which Aegir felt was unfair and reductionary. In truth, his type was consenting, available,andbreathing. A very clear distinction.

It was a rare occasion that Aegir couldn’t find something pleasing in a potential lover. He delighted in uncovering each of their individual intricacies like a package. A little giftfrom each of them that he need only peel back the layers of their clothing to discover.

So it was not often that Aegir found himself in the position of being in want of a lover. In fact, he knew of at least one such a partner in a town nearby that he could reach with an hour’s swim. Though as he prepared to leave, the thought of meeting up with Una or even with Una and Greig, didn’t appeal.

It made no sense. Seconds ago, he’d been aroused and frustrated, but even the thought of Una or Greig had him softening in his slit.

It was possible he was unwell. It seemed perfectly logical—or it would, if it weren’t for one small problem.

It was nearly impossible for him to catch any illness, as his body had the subconscious ability to detect and fix problems, given he had the lunula to expend. He consumed copious amounts of the glowing algae to ensure that he never ran out at a crucial moment.

What his body was not equipped with, however, was a method for rectifying mental instabilities, beyond certain parameters.

Wincing, he took a deep breath, dreading the outcome of the experimenthe knew he needed to conduct.

He thought of other past partners, and his traitorous cock stayed limp within his slit. The second he allowed his mind to wander back to Elspeth however, it perked right up like a daffodil in spring.

Perhaps he’d finally acquired a type. Maybe, after years of sampling the many delights that the Lady’s planet had to offer, he’d discovered a form, a shape that pleased him above all others.

So, with his eyes shut—and at this point, his hands clenched into tight fists—he thought of other past partners. Like he was cataloging them, Aegir ran through partners that shared physical characteristics with the woman who now so plagued his thoughts. Perhaps he now had an affinity for people who were shorter than him, or even people who had an enticing amount of squish.

But no matter what he did, no matter who else he thought of, he couldn’t seem to muster even a spark of interest. Infuriatingly, the second his mind wandered back to his so-recently-escaped selkie, his insistent member throbbed, pulling all of his attention to where it tried to poke from his slit, and to the faint scent of her that still hung in his room.

Try as hemight, he couldn’t even clear his mind. Instead, he saw her determined frown, or how feral she’d looked biting onto his finger. He was plagued by the echoes of her feet slapping his deck as she followed behind him, or the rustle of her pelt as she settled it around her shoulders. If he strained, he could almost hear the drops of water as they fell from her hair and landed softly on the carpet of his room.

In some strange, desperate attempt to be closer to her, he threw himself to the floor, running his hands over his rug in search of one of those elusive drops. As if to mock his pain, the carpet was infuriatingly dry.

“Pull yourself together,” he admonished himself. He stood, resting his hand on his desk, the other being inexorably pulled toward his groin. Need surged within him, and soon he could tell there was really only one solution to his current predicament.

Sliding a finger closer, he toyed with the sensitive edges of his opening. Inside, he could feel his long length uncoiling as blood pumped into it, stiffening and reaching for friction.

He closed his eyes, hissing at how everything heightened when he recalled Elspeth in his room. Clutching her pelt around her, her naked calves and toes, standing atop his increasingly damp rug. He remembered how the water had made sections of her haircling to her neck, the path of it obscured by the edge of her pelt. Elsewhere, strands had dripped directly into the pelt itself, which absorbed the droplets as if it were a sponge instead of the water resistant fur he would have assumed it to be.

His cock burst from his slit, the pink of it a sharp contrast to the grey that surrounded it, a break in the white and black pattern of his body. Over the years, he’d experimented with incorporating elements from his human background and his orca nature into his cock. He had also, on occasion, found a reason to experiment with additional modification, but he found he often preferred a form that felt as if it truly belonged to him, so it was largely cetacean in nature.

Further, he found that partners enjoyed its prehensile nature. Long and thick at the base, it tapered at the end, able to curl around itself or massage internally. That tip often felt as if it had a mind of its own. Though he could move it intentionally, often his subconscious and conscious mind disagreed about which was in control at any given moment.

As he slipped up its length, the end coiled around his fingers, an action that often only happened with partners. He wastruly running mad now. Working his mouth, he gathered a bit of saliva before releasing the string of spit to fall on his hand and his cock.

The viscous liquid smoothed his fist’s passing, quickening his pace. Looking down, he realized that only yesterday the finger choking his cock had been inside Elspeth’s mouth. Momentarily, he forgot it wasn’t her spit slicking his hand, and his cock twitched in his hand.