Page 36 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge

The question caught him by surprise. He hadn’t thought about what came next in years. His job and current life were what he had strived for. For a long time, he thought that he was at the end of his goals. He had reached the position he wanted, had the life that he had set out to get, and then all there was to do was continue.

He could hardly complain about an exciting job that gave him plenty of excuses for liaisons. Aegir was captain of a ship, an integralpart of not only Sanctuary’s information network, but also of the resistance. He was one of the few people that got to travel the world rather than being relegated to one continent. And yet...

And yet.

And yet, over the last few days, he'd tasted something more. He had tasted what it would be like if he weren’t alone. He’d tasted the feeling of being wanted—perhaps, even for himself. So much of the time who he was depended on the company he was in, but more and more he found himself slipping up with Elspeth. Even his persona in the dining room had been closer to who he truly was than he usually allowed to show.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. More of the same, I suppose. I’m due for a trip back home, and I imagine my superiors would want to know about the recent changes in the Empire.

“Recent changes? You mean me and Feann?”

“Yes, but there’s more than that. At first, Jokith and I thought we were just noticing isolated changes. Nothing too big, the Empire enforcing laws that they had largely ignored for years, reestablishing a presence in cities otherwise forgotten. Over time, though, a pattern emerged. We aren’t sure why they’re doing all of this, but they seem to be consolidating and re-solidifying their power.It’s concerning, because the resistance hasn’t actually made any large changes. Nor have they done anything outwardly aggressive—well other than a small incident the day I met you, but that's recent. We are still in the 'gather information and support' stages at this point." He closed and opened his hand looking at the fingers.

“It does sound very exciting and useful." Elspeth said, “I would love to have a job that was so important. The way I see it, there’s nothing wrong with having such an important position and allowing it to be fulfilling."

“It consumes me. Never gives me a moment's rest."

“Well, that can’t be all you do. I’m sure there’s plenty of times that you’re just traveling between places. You must have a hobby?”

“So much interrogation, am I to be on trial?”

“No,” she said, looking away. “It’s only that I want to get to know my mate.”

Mate.

Why did that hit harder than husband or wife? Why didher calling him her mate cut straight through?

His voice was rough when he spoke. “I read." The words seemed ripped from his throat. Why had he told her that?

You’re supposed to be in persona, fool. Get back into character.Then again, it was just reading. How could reading be any more personal than he’d already been?

“You did have a great many books in your room."

"In some ways, I also read for work. Because my reading is where I find new characters to add to my arsenal. I’m frankly not smart enough to come up with a new character. I often need them quickly and already fleshed out for my purposes. So instead, I collect them. Like a cast of characters that I switch out as needed. Sometimes I’ll combine them, if I don’t have someone who is just right."

"And you obviously speak languages I don’t, because I could only read half of the titles." She blushed again. “Well, that, and the fact that the note was transcribed into that other language."

“I speak several actually. It comes in handy in my line of work.”

“I imagine so..." the last vowel was drawn out as she yawned. "Is that why you call me murúch? That’s in another language too?"

“Yes, I hadn’t realized I was nottranslating it. It means siren.” He failed to translate the possessive. He couldn’t say that it actually meantmysiren. It felt too much. Too close. She’d already cut him open, it wouldn't do him no good to admit to just how much.

“Siren, because of what happens when I sing?” Her eyes were drooping and no, he wouldn’t say it, because of how the word had affected her, but she looked so achingly beautiful like that. Her eyelashes shrouded all of her eyes, granting him freedom to appreciate her freckles. They were normally overshadowed by the way her eyes captivated him.

“Yes, because of your singing. And I suppose, because of how tightly you’ve bound me. This bond isn't only affecting you. I am well and truly caught, little siren."

What shapes could he make with those freckles, what patterns could he see? What futures could he divine if only he could make the right connections? Here, a lone freckle in an expanse of creamy skin might portent one thing. A freckle intersecting the faint circle of a ring on her pelt might mean another.

There was no way to know how long he studied them, surely long enough for her breathing to steady, and her eyes to drift shut, and longer still as he lost himself in the constellations on her face. He was a sailor, intimatelyacquainted with the stars, but perhaps, a new sky was over shadowing them.

For the first timein more years than he could count, Aegir woke up slowly. There was no instant alertness, no wave of caution at being in enemy territory. What was even better was the rush of sensations. The warm scent of Elspeth, the lush softness of her body pressed against his, the long brown hair that trailed across his face, quivering with each of his breaths.

It wasn’t as if he was relaxed, he was taut as a bow string, hyper aware of every place she pressed against him, and the way that her curves squished around to accommodate him. Shifting and spilling so that he might be closer to burrowing inside of her. Where his arms wrapped around her stomach, they pressed in.

Where the roundness of her ass pressed against him, she swelled to envelop his cock. Snorting in her sleep, she had no idea, and he couldn't pursue his desire, but it was hard not to think—not to see meaning in it.

Was her body reaching for him, enveloping him, sucking him in to play the way she'd been afraid of yesterday? Was it voicing what she couldn’t?