Page 13 of Craved By the Kraken Warlord

He leans into my touch, his eyes drifting shut again. Then, abruptly, they snap open, and he rolls on top of me, pinning me to the kelp bedding. His tentacles slide up my thighs, spreading them wide.

“Va’thar—” I start, but his mouth crashes onto mine, swallowing my words.

He kisses me hard, deep, his teeth grazing my lip. His tentacles tighten around my wrists, pinning them above my head. I arch against him, and his hips press into mine, his cock hard and ready.

*“Again,”* he growls, nipping at my throat. *“I need you again.”*

“Yes,” I gasp, wrapping my legs around him. “Take me. Take me hard.”

He groans, thrusting into me with one brutal stroke. I cry out, clinging to him as he fucks me raw, rough, unapologetic. His tentacles curl around my ankles, spreading me wider, holding me open for him. He takes me deep, relentless, his body claiming mine over and over.

I meet his thrusts, urging him on, nails raking down his back. His bioluminescence flares brighter with each stroke, casting fractured light across the grotto. The pressure builds, my body tightening, coiling.

“Close,” I pant. “So close.”

He snarls, suddenly pulling out. I whimper at the loss, but he flips me onto my hands and knees. His tentacles wrap around my waist, lifting my hips. He slams back into me, and I scream, pleasure ripping through me like lightning.

*“Mine,”* he roars, riding me hard, his tentacles gripping me tight. *“My mate. My Mira.”*

I come undone, shattering around him. He groans, following me over the edge. His cock pulses, filling me with heat. We collapse onto the bedding, chests heaving, bodies slick with sweat.

We lie there for a while, catching our breaths. His tentacles stroke my skin gently, soothingly. I close my eyes, basking in the afterglow, in the warmth of his touch.

But then, a thought intrudes. A question.

“Va’thar,” I say, leaning up on my elbow to look at him. “Can I go back to the land?”

His expression freezes. For a moment, he doesn’t breathe. Then, slowly, he nods. *“If you wish. But not now. The storm—”*

“I know,” I say. “But after. When it’s safe.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening. *“Yes. If that is your desire.”*

Desire. The word echoes in my mind. Is that what I want? To return to the surface, to the village that sacrificed me, to the life I had before? A life with no meaning, no purpose. A life where I was nothing more than a pawn, a tool to be used and discarded.

I think of Elsah, of the way she stood up to the robed figures, of her small fists clenched in defiance. She’s strong, fearless. She’ll grow up to be a fighter, a leader. She doesn’t need me. No one up there does.

But here… Here, I’m something more. Something precious. Something sacred.

I watch Va’thar, watching his bioluminescence dim, his eyes grow distant. He’s preparing himself, steeling himself for my departure. He thinks I’ll leave him. That I’ll abandon him, just like the others did.

The realization strikes me like a hammer blow. He’s been alone for centuries, enduring the cycle of rituals, of sacrifices, of failure. He’s known nothing but pain, rejection, loss. And now, he thinks he’ll lose me too.

“Va’thar,” I say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek.

He flinches, eyes snapping back to mine. There’s a vulnerability there, a raw, exposed nerve. It makes my chest ache.

“What if I don’t want to go?” I ask.

He stares at me, uncomprehending. *“You… do not wish to leave?”*

“No,” I say, my voice firm. “I don’t. I want to stay. With you.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks almost frightened. *“You would choose… this?”* He gestures to the grotto, to himself. *“You would choose me?”*

I smile, cupping his face in my hands. “Yes. I choose you.”

He swallows hard, his tentacles curling around me, pulling me close. *“But… your kind. Your home—”*