My mate finds me attractive.
“Cindi,” I groan, sucking her nipple harder.
Her desire seeps from her pores. I wind between her legs to smear the aphrodisiac over my limbs, the scent marking me as hers. I feel drunk on her and the dream that she may say yes to me. Maybe tonight, we’ll bond, and my life will change.
Her breathing hiccups as she squirms. “What are you—don’t?—”
A slight prick makes me pause. I frown, looking down at a tentacle. We both stare in silence at the knife sticking out of my limb.
My mate has… She’s marked me.
A mating mark.
Sparks skate across my skin as my sex arm begins to raise, seeking her out. She’s accepting me—albeit, it’s not in the usual place, but I didn’t think this would really happen. Liquid drips from my mating organ as I fight the need to bury myself in her delicious core.
Cindi’s forehead pinches in confusion when I cup her cheek and tuck her hair behind her curved, human ears.
She needs only say the words, and I will mark her in return.
“Thank you,” I rasp, blood soaring with elation. “I would have preferred my chest or throat, so it is more obvious, but I suppose this will suffice. I will still wear it with pride. All will know I belong to you.”
I pull the knife out with my free tentacle and offer it to her. The blade digs into my limb so she does not accidentally hurt herself, but the pain isn’t noticeable beyond the excitement of having her mark me as hers for the rest of eternity.
Her jaw drops. I like this Cindi much better—when she’s not fighting me and her scent is only tainted by her underlying anger. And…she looks rather intrigued by me.
But my mate’s bewildered expression? I can’t place the reason for it.
“You want me to stab youagain?”
“Only if you’re offering.” I try to hide my hope. Cindi could engrave her name on my chest if she wanted.
“What the fuck?” She gasps.
“I will not force you to do it, but it would be my greatest honor if you did.” I dip my head.
I try not to notice my blood pouring onto her skin—I’m unsure whether she is the type who dislikes such things. Still, it drives me wild knowing I am marking her in my own way, covering her with my scent so every creature knows this treasure is mine.
My sex travels over her body, leaking and spilling my seed all over her supple flesh.
Cautiously, her soft fingers curl around the handle as she timidly takes the knife from me. She seems to be more settled when she has the weapon. I will find her more if that’s what brings her comfort.
I release her face, lowering my hands to her back and waist. Then, I tip my head to the side to expose my neck and chest. Even if she wishes to mark my cheek, I will be the happiest kraken in existence. My Cindi can do no wrong to me.
Instead, the joy of having my mate in my arms is severed when she slowly says, “Put me down and take me back home.”
Her steady confidence makes my chest swell with pride. Then, her words settle in.
My forehead wrinkles, and my tentacles clutch her tighter, refusing to let go. My sucker puckers hard around her nipple, and she jolts, perfuming the air with her sweet arousal, but her expression is tense and unhappy. Why did she mark me if she wanted me to take her home? Humans make no sense.
“I cannot do both. To return you, I must hold you.”
Cindi makes this thrilling squeaking sound when my tentacle latches onto her other nub. I can still taste her lust on my tongue, but her skin is dampening with fear. It lessons as I release more of my venom, making her body relax further like I wanted to in the water, to treat her injured arm.
“Fine. Then do it.” Her voice is just above a rough whisper through her gritted teeth. “We’ll go back tonight.”
I dip my head once. “No, thank you.”
Manners are a human value, are they not?
