He was all hers.
27
Finn
Iris swam tirelessly, but Finn’s arms grew tired after half an hour. He hauled himself back up onto the boat and watched as his fiancée’s head and tail dipped up and down into the water, her movements effortlessly beautiful.
Each time she looked out at the sea instead of toward him, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for stealing something so beautiful from the place she belonged. Yet he couldn’t imagine a future without her.
Maybe, once things calmed down with the campaign, once the wedding was finalized, they could look into getting a little beach house, someplace close to the ocean for them to escape to, where they could leave the big city behind.
He was sure he could sit on the shore and watch her swim for hours and never get tired of it.
Iris surfaced, then hauled her body out onto the lower swim deck. Her green tail and sun-kissed skin glistened with water droplets.
She stretched, reaching upward to squeeze the water from her hair.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
His need grew as he watched her comb her hair, as her tail slowly disappeared, replaced by her lovely skin.
As if sensing the turn of his thoughts, Iris’s head shifted. A knowing smile tugged at her lips.
Then she crawled over toward Finn, slipping between his legs and sliding her hands up his thighs.
He’d been aching for her since she slipped out of her cover-up on the bow.
So when she reached to free him, he was hard and straining.
Her warm breath on his skin had his hips bucking up.
But Iris wanted to tease.
Her hand closed around his length, then she leaned down, closing her lips around the base of him, then running her tongue up toward the head, where she teased around the sensitive skin until his hands were fisted in her hair, until he was rocking restlessly.
Only then did her lips close around him and suck him deep.
Finn groaned as pleasure surged through his system.
Everything about her was a revelation. And he was completely and utterly devout.
She worked him slow at first, then faster as his gasps became groans.
His fingers were crushing the back of her skull as she drove him right to the edge, then took him over.
His vision went white with his release, and Iris moaned at the taste of him, working him through it until he was weak and panting.
Only then did she let him slip from between her lips.
Her head rested on his thigh afterward as he tried to bring some order back to his system.
His hands sifted through her damp hair, not ready to break the spell.
In the end, it was Iris’s stomach—starving after hours of swimming—that had him pulling away.
“I brought food,” he told her. He got to his feet, tucked himself away, then reached to pull her onto her feet.
“Thank the seas,” she said.
