Page 15 of Salt and Knot

“I’ve never been to the sea before,” I confess.

“I’m glad you did now.” Dylan smiles, almost sadly. “But I’m sad no one gave you a trip to the ocean sooner.”

Shrugging, I bury my embarrassment. “I’m an orphan. My foster family wasn’t well off. We didn’t go anywhere.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this. “My mother died when I was a baby, and my dad when I was six, so I don’t really remember either of them.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds as though he means it.

The old ache of not having my birth parents around and being cut off from my wider family—they didn’t want me and didn’t want any contact—isn’t as present as it usually is.

But it could also be the sheer distraction of having his enormous cock in me.

“What about you?” I’m eager to move the conversation onto lighter topics.

“I’ve lived for some years.” He shrugs. “And then I found you.”

A laugh bubbles out of me. “That’s it? Your whole life?”

“Certainly feels like it right now.” He gives me a soft smile that’s somehow careworn.

“How old are you?” I ask, on impulse.

He shakes his head.

I wriggle a bit on his cock, and he groans.

“You can’t expect me to focus on difficult questions when you do that,” he half laughs.

“Does it feel good?” I’m pleased. I want him to like me. I want… Absurd things.

“Every single move you make is amazing,” he replies, and it sounds sincere. “To the point I can’t think. Your body.” He shakes his head and slowly lets his gaze fall, taking in my breasts, my stomach, hips, and where I’m straddling him, all the way to my legs. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“In how long? How old are you?” I ask again.

“Would you believe me if I said I couldn’t exactly recall?” he says, a bit sheepish.

“No. It’s okay. You’re what, thirty-five?” He has laughter lines around his eyes. He’s definitely older than me. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. Forty?”

He sighs, and traces a pattern of circles on my thigh. “About six hundred.”

My jaw drops open. “You’re an immortal.”

He nods, brows low. “Yeah.”

“I’m twenty-three,” I tell him, feeling a bit sick. My head swims. He’s been around for centuries, and I’m just… Like a little gnat. Tiny. Insignificant.

“Hey.” He grips my leg. “None of that.”

“What?” I brazen it out. He doesn’t know what I’m thinking.

“Worrying that you’re not enough.”

This time I manage to keep my jaw closed. How does he read me so easily?

“Right now, you’re an omega I found, who needs my help. And I’m the alpha who is happy to fuck you as often as you need, because you’re very beautiful. All I want is to ensure you’re okay.”

My heart falls further. I’m a charity case to him when my body is over-responding to this first time.

Mate, mate, mate.