Rick chokes and coughs. I grin, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. I thought the looming midnight deadline would feel like imprisonment, but it’s oddly freeing. For once I can express exactly what I want, without wondering if it’s going to come across as too needy or too weird.
“You good?” I ask Rick, who’s still coughing.
“Fine,” he wheezes. “Give me a second.”
I’m still naked. Haven’t put on a stitch of clothing since we got back. I push aside the canisters and the napkin holder on the kitchen island, making a clear space. Then I hitch myself onto the edge, perching there with my legs apart. Yeah it’s not super hygienic, but I might literally lose my mind tonight. If I make it through somehow, I can sanitize everything. Right now, I just want Rick. Possibly for the last time.
I slide my fingers into myself and show him the glistening wetness.
“Marlowe.” His voice is low, hungry, desperate.
I pull the lips of my sex apart so he can see every bit of me. His pupils dilate and he sucks in a harsh breath. His erection is a thick, obvious protrusion beneath his boxers.
“Get naked for me,” I whisper.
He strips the boxers off and stands there, sunburned, covered in bloody cuts and dirt smudges. He’s magnificently filthy, majestically hard, injured in a waythat speaks to my violent nature with a sinister seduction I can’t deny. He has never looked hotter to me than he does right now.
“Come here.” My words are halfway between a command and a plea.
He swallows hard. “Are you sure? After all the—”
“I need this so badly, Rick.”
He surges forward, clasps my face in both hands, and kisses me. As he moves, the tip of his dick finds my entrance and pops inside, pushing deeper, like it knows exactly where it belongs. He slides in without a single guiding touch from his hand or mine. We’re sealed together, joined where our hips meet and where our mouths slide frantically against each other.
We kiss like it’s the last time, because we both know it might be. His tongue sweeps through my mouth, pushing against mine, teasing the edges of my teeth. He grabs my hips and starts a steady pace, thrusting with a rough fervency that has me throwing my head back and groaning aloud.
“Harder,” I beg him. “Deeper. As hard and fast as you can. As rough as you like. I can take it. I need it. Please.”
His arm wraps around my butt and he drags me closer to the counter’s edge. I become a limp doll, a willing puppet clasped in his arms while he shoves into me. His pace kicks up, turning frenzied, and his breathing goes ragged, each one bordering on a sob.
“Rick,” I whisper, touching his face.
He looks up, and yes, those are tears glittering in his eyes. Sweet man.
“No,” I soothe him. “Don’t, don’t. Just be here, just be with me, don’t think about anything else that could happen. Just us. Justhere.”
“Okay.” He clears his throat and shakes his head roughly like he’s shaking off the emotion. “Okay.”
I pull his mouth to mine and inhale him, his scent of rich blood and meaty flesh, his fragrance of smooth, hot skin and male musk. My hunger is deeper than lust. If I remain a kelpie, I think I will always struggle with the desire to devour him in a very literal way. The one good thing about becoming a horse is that he won’t have to fear that fate.
Follow your own advice, Marlowe. Stop thinking and just enjoy this.
I shut my eyes, focusing on the pleasure building at my core. While Rick thrusts, I place my fingertips over my clit and massage it rapidly, curving my spine and lifting my pelvis to meet each new thrust.
“It’s coming, it’s coming,” I whisper. “Oh god... it’s... I’m... Rick, Rick—”
The orgasm hits like the shift from human to horse, like a magical transformation altering every cell of my body, illuminating each delicate nerve. I am altered from the inside out, laid bare, my truest self revealed.
Rick comes with a rough gasp. Panting, he presses in deep, then finishes with a few slow thrusts. His head sinks against my shoulder briefly, then he kisses the side of my neck.
Something about that kiss reminds me of the way my sister nearly bit his throat, and a chill runs through my very bones.
“You almost died,” I breathe. “She nearly killed you.”
He groans, then releases a low chuckle. “Really, Marlowe? Right now?”
“Sorry. I guess ignoring everything else is easier said than done.”
