Free Lord of the Deep by Dawn Thompson

nectar of her release. This was one of the mysteries of the mortal race, one of the curiosities of those that lived above the waves, that had intrigued the creatures of the deep since time out of mind, and he had embraced it. There was no way he could leave her now or ever. He had drunk of the very elixir of her life.
    His sex was bursting, his need painful. Cupping the globes of her buttocks, he lifted her to him and buried his cock deep inside her. Clinging to him, Meg called his name as he thrust himself again and again, deep pistoning thrusts that filled her with the warm rush of his seed. It was a rush so heavy she could not contain it and some overflowed and spilled out of her onto the sand.
    Crushing her in his arms, Simeon held her against him without speaking, his heart hammering against hers for some time before his breathing became normal and his spent shaft relaxed inside her.
    “Y-you will not leave me?” she begged him. “Say you will not leave me, Simeon… Swear it! ”
    “I will never leave you,” he murmured against her hair. “But I must return to my realm before first light. There are things I must do there before I can resolve what faces us.”
    “The solstice is only two days off,” she said. “They will come for me! They will make me—”
    “Sh,” he soothed, holding her close. “I know, Megaleen. We celebrate it below as well. You must trust me. We will be well away by the time the ceremonies begin.” He rose to his feet and pulled her up alongside him, taking her face in his hands. “I want you to go now, back to the cottage, before someone sees you like this. Meet me here, in this cove, tomorrow night at midnight. All will be well….”
    Simeon took her lips in a steamy kiss that left her sagging against him before he put her from him gently but firmly. “Now go,” he said. “Let me do what I must do. Until midnight tomorrow…”

6
    M eg followed the lean, muscular figure of the Lord of the Deep with her eyes until he disappeared beneath the waves. Would she ever see him again? She had to believe she would. All at once she was cold. She hadn’t felt the chill in the air while she was in Simeon’s arms, despite the misty dampness. She shuddered. He had robbed the warmth from her body as well as her soul. She was naught but an empty shell without him.
    Hugging herself, she rubbed her arms to prompt circulation. Where had her mulberry gauze kirtle gone? She had no recollection of when she’d parted from it. Simeon was right about one thing: she needed to sneak back into the cottage before Aunt Adelia discovered her missing. It would not do to be caught out naked on the beach again in the dead of night two days before the solstice.
    As cold as she was, Meg couldn’t return covered with sand and sticky with the selkie’s seed. Padding to the water’s edge, she scooped up some seaweed stretched out like a ribbon along the surf and bathed her thighs and mons area with it. Plunging deeper, she submerged her body to wash away the sand, then ducked her head below the waves. She broke the surface facing the sea, letting the water cascade over her sore body, which ached from the ecstasy of Simeon’s embrace. How good the saltwater felt sluicing over her hot skin, cooling the fever his hands, his lips, his dynamic body had ignited in every pore. Taking a deep breath, she plunged again and rose, sliding her hands down the length of her body, over the swell of her aching breasts and taut hard nipples, down the length of her torso, and over the V of pubic curls between her thighs. Reaching back, she soothed the globes of her behind, then brought her hands around in front again retracing their path to the slender arch of her neck. Lacing her fingers through her long, sun-painted hair grown dark in the water, Meg spun toward the shore, only to freeze where she stood, treading the sandy bottom underfoot, submerged to the waist, buoyed by the swells. She uttered a stifled cry, her eyes flung