Page 39 of Salt and Knot

She nods slowly.

Her wet hair has stuck to her neck and shoulders. It’s swept back out of her face, and I love seeing her like this. Wet and natural.

“It might be just from the human form. Or it might be from either or, when part shifted, or maybe both when part shifted.”

Her brows pinch in focus.

“It could even be that it needs…” I trail off.

“What?” she asks carefully.

I hesitate. This could be scary for her. “It might need both forms, fully shifted.”

“Oh.” She bites her lip thoughtfully. “Do you think…”

“You could already be pregnant?” I shake my head. “Not without the mating bond.”

“Of course.” It’s a quick dismissal, but as she looks back down at my tentacle, I could swear there’s disappointment in her expression.

She runs her finger down my tentacle, and I shudder. It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. Better than her on my cock, perhaps? Or equal. Except, if I’m honest, I have had this sensation before. When I touched her in the sea that day, and her pretty, tight, little virgin pussy gave in and allowed me entrance.

But this is different. Her slight, soft hands are willingly exploring me, from the tip right down to where the suckers begin.

My cock is leaking pre-come, completely rigid. I need her. I crave the feel of her on me, even though it’s only been a matter of minutes since we were last joined.

“I’m yours,” I remind her when her exploration slows. “You can do whatever you want.”

“I thought that maybe, when you…” Words fail her, and I wait patiently. “You come from here?” She rubs her palm over the tip of my hectocotylus, and I can’t help but groan. “Does it spurt out?”

“Yes.” My voice is broken, because her touch feels far too good for a conversation this tense.

Her eyes gleam. “Oh really?”

And then her fingers tighten, and she runs her closed fist up and down the end of the tentacle. I tremble.

My cock is responding as well, and I have the strongest urge to be inside her. To fuck her properly.

I restrain myself. Just.

And my little, teasing omega continues to stroke me, eyes bright with curiosity as she reduces me to a puddle of a creature. A boneless man.

I make wordless sounds that could be roars as she rubs and twists, both of us wet from the water.

I’m holding back, until she brings my tentacle up to her face. For a second, I think it’s just to examine me closer. But then she parts her lips.

The wet heat is different to any other. It’s acceptance, and pure lust. My mate slides me to the back of her throat, and I can’t keep it together anymore.

I erupt. The orgasm is all encompassing, sweeping through me like a tsunami. I blow into her mouth, unable to even warn her because it’s so good and so sudden.

But instead of pulling back, she leans into me, moaning and I spray wet ropes of seed down her throat. It’s far too much for my human omega mate. It spills out from her lips and dribbles over her neck, collarbones, and lush little tits.

I’m swaying, drunk-almost at the way she pleasured me, and when her tongue has milked the last drop from the end of my hectocotylus, it’s all I can do to keep both of us buoyant. My kraken side is restless and insistent, desperate for more and putting pressure on me from the inside.

Bond. Mate.

It’s rare to get any words from him, and I shove back mentally with all the force I can summon. My teeth sharpen and my mouth waters.

But I don’t completely deny myself. I do need to be with my little omega more.