Page 39 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge

Shequite liked most things about him, really. Having grown up only among her people, she had never seen skin, so smooth, so unmarred by markings. Her entire life, everyone she known had been born with the circular spots of their pelt. Aegir was completely bare—no, not bare, he had wisps of hair. Soft, downy white hairs littered his chest. They sprinkled across his skin, only interrupted by his nipples, and in a very few places, a small mole or freckle caught her notice. His pectorals stuck out invitingly, as if they were calling for her to squeeze them. Of course, she’d seen him naked earlier, and had been plenty familiar with his chest, considering she just admired it through their entire swim. But looking at this, she was fairly certain that he hadn’t had hair then. In fact, she realized, he would have needed to go through the extra effort to grow the hair, so did he find the hair particularly attractive?

Aegir knelt there, next to her where she could see, smiling, as if indulging her. He still clutched his shirt in his right hand, though his left flexed several times, as if resisting touching her.

“Look your fill, a murúch, it’s more than your due." He said, smirking. “Though I wouldn’t argue if you wanted to remove your chemise..."

That cheeky man! In some ways, it was so embarrassing for him to come out and speak so openly about it, and to expect her to speak so openly about what she wanted. Then again, it was also refreshing. She felt like she didn’t need to wonder with Aegir, and if she was, perhaps she could just ask.

His teasing made her bold, and she smiled back at him, deviously waggling her eyebrows. “Oh, but if I remove my chemise, I will be naked. And you will still have those infernal trousers!"

"Oh, ho, you drive a hard bargain I see. I suppose I should just have to rid myself of them.” Reaching for his tie, he released it without ceremony, unfastening his trousers and letting them fall to the ground. Elspeth gasped as they settled around his ankles. She wasn’t certain what she’d expected, but his cock was long and vibrant pink, extruding from a slit at his groin.

Abnormal though it might be, it was gorgeously formed, and her eyes followed as the tip of it twisted about his hand playfully.

“If youkeep looking at me like you’re going to devour me, I’m afraid my performance might not be very impressive," he chided with a smirk.

Elspeth giggled and nodded her head, enjoying the feel of him watching her. His eyes traveled down her body, following her hands. When she reached her hem, she toyed with it a minute, gratified to see the echo of her own hunger reflected back.

Like she was jumping off a cliff, Elspeth tugged her chemise up and over her head in one quick motion. For several seconds afterward, she couldn’t even look at Aegir, she was so nervous about what he might think. As soon as she did though, she realized she needn't have worried.

If he had looked hungry before, Aegir was desperate now. A blush darkened his cheeks, pinkening the white sections, and a viscous string of precum dangled off his tip. With eyes that never strayed from her, Aegir reached down to grasp himself, his strong fingers wrapping around himself. He nodded, gesturing with his eyes that she should also indulge.

Elspeth's fingers slipped through her folds, her slickness coating her fingers in seconds. The brush of her finger sent a jolt of pleasure throughher. Aegir knelt at her side, each pump of his fist timed to coincide with the twitch of her finger. When she sped, so did he, when she slowed and teased, his fist matched her pace.

“That’s my siren," Aegir whispered.

She stared at his face, watching where his eyes were fixed on her pussy. His breaths wracked his chest, and already drops of sweat clung to the sparkling white chest hairs in a dazzling array.

Moans and whimpers escaped her lips, creating a symphony of sin, with the slick sounds of her fingers in her cunt, and his as he pumped himself. Aegir's face reddened, and he bit down on his lips, a tortured expression taking over his face.

“What’s wrong?" she asked, her fingers slowing. Dread filled inside her, was it not nearly as entertaining as he thought it would be? Was he disappointed in how this was progressing?

“I want to talk to you, tell you what to do, tell you what to think about, but I don’t want to ruin it." He bit out through clenched teeth.

Relief, like the rays of sunshine that peaked between the curtains suffused her—followed quickly by heat as she comprehended his words.

“I’d like that. I want—" she gulped down a breath. “I want to knowwhat you want to do to me.”

The pain on Aegir's face eased, and he paused for a second to spit into his hand before pumping himself faster. His words came out a low, guttural gasp.

“If I could touch you—no,whenI can touch you—I’m going to start by worshipping every delectable mark on your body. Every spot, every marking of your pelt, reflected on your skin will be kissed and licked and sucked.”

He liked her markings? She'd never thought much about them herself. They'd always been part of her, and of everyone else she knew. If she’d had a moment to think about it, she might have even worried that he wouldn’t like them for some reason.

“Does that surprise you, a murúch?" He tilted his head to the side. “They’ve always intrigued me, but since I realized they mirror the markings on your pelt? They are driving me wild. Perhaps this thing between us is not something you’d have chosen, but were it not for your pelt, you wouldn’t be laying in my bed, stretched out and writhing in pleasure so prettily." He paused, pumping himself. “Then, I can circle your breasts, teasing and nibbling on them until you beg me formore. I can’t help but wonder, are they sensitive? Is that something you’d enjoy? Show me? Show me how you like to be touched?"

His voice was so achingly vulnerable that it didn’t come out as an order, more a request. Her right hand crept up to her nipple, rolling it between her fingers and pinching lightly. Shifting how she held it, she allowed the sharp points of her nails to prick her skin, and she cried out.

"Yes, Elspeth. Just like that. Do you like a little pain with your pleasure?” He prompted. He shuttled his hand up and down the length of his cock, furiously stroking himself. Periodically, she noticed he would pause and tighten his grip at his base.

“Will you try something for me? Will you imagine that it’s my hands on you? That it’s my teeth teasing that perfect little nipple?"

Elspeth nodded, desire thrumming through her. She didn’t even need to close her eyes to imagine it. She'd felt those teeth on her before, and knew how wicked they were. And yet, she knew he would be oh, so careful. He would tease her with them, press into her for only a moment, she'd worry he would break the skin, but he’d release her then, laving away the pain with his tongue, only to suckle her to the edge again.

“Damn Elspeth, the smell of you is going to kill me. I can smell how wet you are, so thick I can almost taste it. I can’t wait to get my hands on you, but… fuck, my mouth? My tongue? It’s going to be glorious. It’ll be everything."

The inferno that had been building inside of her flared, pulling her muscles, called tight and bending her off the bed. It burned through her, almost too intense to fathom.

As the haze of her orgasm cleared, Elspeth found she wasn’t nearly sated.