Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
There are voices outside of the room.
The phone is ringing on the table beside the bed, but neither one of us pays those things any attention. Our eyes are locked on each other, the tempo of my hips picking up, my groans turning more animalistic, her mewls only tempting my balls to lose the battle with my need sooner. It’s coming. I’m coming.
I’m on the verge of flooding my little human with sperm when a man stumbles into the room with a walkie talkie, his eyes rounding when they locate me and Darla on her bed, my cock smacking up between her thighs.
“People said…” He mops the sudden sweat from his brow. “They said it sounded like she was being killed in here. Miss, are you okay? He’s…he’s huge.”
“Oh, Daddy,” she moans, positioning her ankles on my shoulders. I’m not sure she’s even aware of this man’s presence—and she needn’t be. He is of no consequence compared to our mutual hunger. “Harder. Harder. I’m so close.”
I send a murderous glance the intruder’s way. “I’m pleasing my mate. Get out.”
The door slams a second later, and Darla peeks at the same time, her tiny ankles trembling on my shoulders, her fingers tearing at the pillows, tears coursing down her cheeks, bite marks bleeding on her bottom lip. She’s so beautiful and I’m so overcome with gratitude that she’s my mate, that she allows me to make love to her, that she smiles at me, that she cuddles with me, that she freely offers me her tight holes, I implode from happiness, spurting my lust and joy and pain into her with frantic pumps of my hips, my euphoric shout echoing off the ceiling.
“Darla!” I groan, my balls rippling, knots untying in my stomach. “Darla. Darla.”
We writhe our joined sexes together one more time, as if squeezing out the excess juice, then Darla goes limp. I drop down beside her, struggling for air. Struggling to believe that anything so perfect as this girl and her lovemaking exists.
And I try not to panic when she doesn’t move.
“I know you’re not dead, little human. You won’t fool me this time,” I assure Darla, gathering her light body on top of my chest in a limp sprawl.
That’s when I notice the blood. Right there on the white sheets.
“Darla!” I roar, shaking her.
My heart is liquefying.
No, please. No. Did I really kill her this time?
“Mmm?” she yawns, lifting her head and smiling at me drowsily.
I flatten backward into a puddle, my pulse sprinting a million miles an hour. “I thought you were dead again,” I wail.
“Nope.”
“Why are you bleeding?” I yell, feeling her body for injuries.
“You took my virginity. There’s a little bleeding involved, that’s all.”
I still my search, scrutinizing her face. “Are you sure?”
She kisses my chin, giggling. “Yes, I’m sure. You won’t kill me. I won’t ever be dead after we make love.”
“You better not!” I shout.
My little human simply goes on smiling at me, despite my distress. “We have all day together, Moby. We can do anything. Go anywhere.”
My heart weighs down with an avalanche of affection. “What would you like to do?”
Her eyes twinkle. “Go for a swim?”
“In the pool?”
She shakes her head. “In the ocean.”
My grin is cocky. “I think that can be arranged.”
Seven
Darla
We are walking hand-in-hand toward the edge of the ocean when I spot the jet ski rental counter out of the corner of my eye. Every day since my family arrived in Hawaii, I’ve walked past the water sports counter, and I get anxiety every single time. But I don’t feel like a fragile accident victim right now. I feel vital and capable. After all, I’ve made love with a stacked seven-footer twice now and lived to tell the tale. And when I think of how I stabbed my mother’s breakfast roll and stood up to my mother this morning, it makes me want to be even more brave. To take chances again.
To face my fears.
“I think you’ve made me feel invincible,” I lean my head back to say to Moby.
He stops mid-stride and bends down, putting his hands on his knees so we’re closer to eye level. “What do you mean?”
Shifting side to side in my sandals, I lean sideways to peer past Moby to the water sports counter. “I was thinking…I want to get back on a jet ski. I’ve been having nightmares about the accident for such a long time. Maybe some immersion therapy would cure me.” I lean in to give him a peck on the lips, and he rumbles in response, his eyelids drooping. “If I’m going to face my fears with anyone, I want it to be you.”
Affection makes his gray eyes softer. “My brave girl.”
Strings pull taut in my chest.
Is it crazy that I’m already falling in love with Moby? I’ve never experienced so much acceptance and safety and connection with anyone else. Not in my whole life. Leave it to me to need a whale to shift into a man in order to get a boyfriend.