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“Tell me the story again,” he would ask her, and she would—any story, really. She was full of them, all sorts of monster history, the history of the two-legged, and then all of the things she had seen on her TV. I gathered from Sylinda that Gerron was becoming very popular as he translated these things to his friends outside, and they were eager to meet a human too—but as much as it was possible, I wanted to keep Elle just for me.
Until I was sure she was completely healed, feeling better, and certain about her destiny.
Because I knew that there were things that she’d miss from up above that had no corollary here below. Petting a cat, eating ice cream, talking with others of her kind—through her, I knew what it was like to touch grass, and sleep on the ground outside, beneath the stars.
But she seemed to have no regrets, being here with me, and when I felt her mind on the ’qa, talking to Sylinda or Gerron, even Balesur, it was always a delight.
“Are you well, my pearl?” I asked her as she woke one morning.
“I think so,” she said, waking up. “Are . . . you?”
The extra blood in her eye had almost gone away, and I was still holding her, chastely, in my tentacles, just as I did to sleep each night.
“I have not been this well in a long, long time,” I told her truthfully, bowing my head to hers.
“Are you certain?” she asked, pushing away, tinging the ’qa between us with concern.
“Utterly,” I swore, and she gave me a tentative smile.
“Then why haven’t we...” she asked, her thoughts drifting nervously, like she was afraid to put them on the ’qa.
My tentacles pulled her closer without thinking. “I wanted to be sure you were healthy enough first.” I’d been horrified to see so many of my marks upon her, once I realized they were from me.
“And it’s not because you have regrets?” Her thoughts were hesitant and full of memories—of her human husband who had left her to have children with another, and her knowledge of all the other krakens I could mate with in the sea.
“Absolutely not,” I said, giving her a tender smile. “How long have you been holding these feelings inside of you?”
“A few days,” she said. “It’s been hard.”
I clicked my beak at her. “Ahh. How about next time, rather than deciding to torture yourself, you just ask me?” I asked, winding myself around her slowly.
She pulled her full lips into a pout. “I just thought—” she started, and I clicked my beak again.
“I love it when you think, Elle. But I also like it when you are thoughtless, because you are full of me.” I let my pumping arm emerge and ran it up and down the outside of her thigh—and her jaw fell open as she gave me a complicated look, mirrored by all her thoughts and feelings tangled up inside.
“It’s not really a breeding hole if we can’t breed, Ceph.”
“So? Not all krakens can. I told you our cycles are erratic. That does not stop us from seeking pleasure in the meantime.” I took her hand and placed it on my pumping arm, thrilling at her touch, and making sure to push that sensation onto her. “It is yours as much it is mine.”
Her eyes read my face, as her fingers tightened to hold me—and then she flushed. “But what if other krakens hear?”
“Have you not heard them?” I asked, knowing we were not so insulated from the ’qa.
I watched her swallow—and I could begin to taste her in the sea. “What if I’m loud?”
“I would be ashamed if you were not,” I told her. “I want everyone to know I make you happy.” I watched her panic, and then I moved to kiss her temple. “I love you, Elle, but I believe in this one case, you are thinking too much,” I said. “Trust me.”
I took her waist in my hands and pulled her up so that our faces were even.
She looped her arms around my neck at once, and wound her legs around my body. “Next you’re going to tell me to relax, and breathe,” she complained with an adorable pout, because she wasn’t really complaining, I knew.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Breathe—and let me enter you.”
I sent my pumping arm searching up the inside of her thigh, so she could feel its heat against her skin, and her eyelids got heavy as her gaze dropped. “Ceph,” she said, as I found her hole, just as hungry for me as the last time I’d left it.
“My beautiful pearl,” I whispered, pushing my way in.
What had happened inside the spaceship had needed to happen the way it had—when we’d been given one abnormal chance to be together, and had needed to drain the moment of its every last drop.
