He lets out a little hiss and stops, holding still. “Madelyn. Could you... You should move your hand to the top. The top is less sensitive.”
“Oh, gosh! Does that hurt?” I ask, yanking my hand away.
“No, no. The opposite of pain. And not in all cases. It’s more about the place and pressure. And the person.”
“So, that might be something a human wouldn’t know about a kraken? That a woman dating a kraken should know for a future date?” I murmur, one eyebrow arching suggestively, even though I’m trying to keep things PG.
Mercer looks flustered (which is adorable). His tentacles twist and curl on the sidewalk, and he clears his throat several times. “She might want to know that, yes. Though I wouldn’t mind if she didn’t. Touching her would bring me enough satisfaction.”
“With your tentacles, you mean?” That heat that’s been twisting, ebbing, and flowing in my middle rebounds and consumes.
“If she allows it. If she’d like to experience it.”
“What does the experience entail?” I ask, playing with fire and hoping I get a little bit singed tonight.
“Maybe we should put Zack to bed, and then we can discuss it a little bit more?” Mercer suggests. He no longer sounds flustered, but that’s okay. I’m suddenly flustered enough for the both of us.
Zack is babbling a mile a minute, high on sugar and excited about the prospect of a playdate at Allison’s house, although to be fair, he’s more excited about the prospect of playing dinos with her five-year-old brother, Petey.
However, what goes up, must come down, and as I rock him in a hammock of tentacles and Madelyn reads one of his favorite books, the sugar crash descends, and Zack is asleep.
I’m wide awake. I’m having a horrible time not thinking arousing thoughts. My cock keeps giving little nudges under the curtain of my tentacles, wanting to emerge, thick and ridged, longer than most human cocks, I’m sure, but shorter than tentacles.
And tentacles, like I told Madelyn, are so useful. So multi-purpose. I can picture them wrapping around her naked body, bringing her to me, holding her in place as I slowly work my length inside of her...
I can imagine them penetrating her, too, teasing every opening, my suckers leaving a thousand kisses on her skin at once, overstimulating her into a needy puddle of pleasure.
She deserves that. I already know this Eli character was a horrible, selfish man. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Madelyn probably never experienced the love of a trulyunselfishman—let alone an unselfishkrakenwith eight tentacles, two arms, and one cock, all for her.
“Well. He’s out. Tea? Coffee?” Madelyn shuts Zack’s door softly behind us.
“No, thank you.”I want you.I barely seal my lips in time to prevent the shameful admission.
“I think I’ll have some tea. I’ve been so tired lately, I—”
“I could go if you need to rest. Or work?” I offer quickly.
“No!” Madelyn is even quicker to answer, and we share a guilty smile.
“I just don’t want to keep you up if you need your rest,” I explain.
“I haven’t had a real grown-up conversation without a kid underfoot in months. I need that more than an early night,” Madelyn assures me.
“A grown-up conversation about grown-up things,” I clarify, sidling up until I’m close behind her. “About these?” I allow two of my tentacles to criss-cross around her waist in a brief embrace.
“Maybe I need kraken lessons, the way Zack needs swim lessons. Sorry, I bet that was the wrong term. I just meant that I don’t know much. At all. You’ve been spoiling us, Mercer. I’ve felt like I’m living in a dream lately.”
“Funny, so have I,” I counter.
Madelyn’s hand comes to rest on top of the tentacle that brushes her hip. She strokes along the thicker, firmer skin on the outer surface before her fingers drag gracefully down to the tip. “You carry dishes with these. Pick up things with them. I never knew they were sensitive. Or that touching them was intimate. I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“You’re not. You can’t touch them in a wrong way, because... Because you’re my romantic partner, or you will be, one day. I hope. All of your touches are welcome and enjoyable.”
“But only on the top?” Madelyn clarifies, and bless her sweet heart, she looks so anxious and earnest, as if she’s truly interested in studying me. In knowing me.
“No, you can touch the other side, too. The underside is very sensitive, and the suckers are always curious about everything.”
Madelyn’s fingers gently trace a wiggling line between rows of suckers, and I have to smother a groan. My suckers reach for her skin, opening and closing as if they can taste her.
