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Syrus grinned at him, a flash of white teeth in the dark. “Oh, Luke. We already have.” He brushed a strand of wet hair off Luke’s cheek. “You accepted our song. We exchanged essence.”

“And that’s it?” Luke asked, shifting his hips restlessly. “There’s no…consummation?”

Syrus’s grin turned sly. “Would you like a consummation, sweet Luke?” He tugged Luke even closer, eclipsing any distance the water had managed to create between them. The arm around Luke’s waist moved lower to cup Luke’s ass, guiding him and his half-hard dick to…

Luke gasped. Syrus’s slit was warm and wet and already open for him. It was the easiest thing in the world to slip the tip of Luke’s cock inside, where the warmth turned searing hot. Blood pumped to Luke’s dick as he groaned, tilting his hips to try to get deeper.

It was heaven inside. Slick and hot, those rippling internal muscles massaging Luke’s cock. He was prepared this time for the surge of that foreign length, the slide of Syrus’s appendage coming out to meet him.

“God—” Luke choked as his dick was swallowed whole within the space Syrus’s cock made for him. The base of it pressed against Luke snugly, making Syrus’s slit an even tighter haven, while its hard length slid and twisted against Luke’s belly.

Syrus let out a hiss and used his hold to rock Luke deeper into him. Luke wrapped his arms under Syrus’s shoulders, his forehead dipping to Syrus’s chest, water lapping at his chin as Syrus moved them both, his tail undulating in a torturous rhythm.

“Jesus,” Luke moaned, heat pooling in his spine. “You’re so wet. So warm.”

“All for you, sweet Luke.”

The first time Luke had fucked Syrus, the strangeness had been its own turn-on. But it didn’t feel strange or foreign now, despite the fact that they were fucking in the middle of the ocean. It was just…them. Coming together in whatever configuration they wanted. Drawn to each other in a way that neither of them could resist.

It was quiet enough that their gasping breaths filled the night air, along with the sounds of the water churning around them. Pressure built inside Luke with every thrust, a delicious heat at the base of his spine that burned with every suck of that hungry slit. Along with it rose something too powerful to hold in, words Luke tamped down as best he could until he couldn’t contain them anymore.

“Oh fuck. I—I love you.”

It came out as a half cry, half moan, released against the cool skin of Syrus’s chest. It would have been embarrassing, if there had been any room inside Luke for the feeling. But there wasn’t. There was only Syrus. The slick heat of his channel, the strength of his muscles, the quiet hisses and rumbles he let out each time Luke’s cock slipped deep within him.

Syrus’s fingers dug tightly into Luke’s hips, guiding him into a faster, deeper rhythm. “I know.”

God. Luke wanted to hit him for that response, but that pressure inside him was rising too quickly, his belly already quaking with it. He moved his hips in Syrus’s hold, chasing his release desperately. When he came, it was with a hoarse cry, followed within seconds by Syrus’s low, answering growl as they shuddered against each other in the water.

Luke was boneless in the aftermath, but luckily Syrus had strength enough for the both of them. When he turned onto his back and began the swim to shore, Luke was able to rest on top of him, not even pretending to kick his legs to help this time.

“Say it again,” Syrus demanded.

“Do you deserve to hear it again?” Luke asked lazily.

Syrus laughed, the sound sharp and bright in the night air. “My dearest Luke. How I love you.”

Tricky fucking merman, always knowing exactly what to say.

Luke was too exhausted and satisfied to pretend to hold a grudge. “I love you too,” he murmured.

Syrus didn’t seem to mind the begrudging tone. He lifted his head for a shockingly sweet kiss as he brought Luke safely to shore. “Always.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a request and a promise both.

“Always,” Luke repeated.

30

SYRUS

Syrus left the bed with slow, careful movements. He was rewarded for his caution by Luke’s continued even breaths. The slumbering human didn’t so much as twitch.

Luke lay on his stomach, his head turned to the side, dark hair covering more of his face than Syrus would have liked. Syrus was tempted to brush it back, to see every inch of his mate’s peaceful expression, but he couldn’t risk waking him. Luke needed his sleep.

They’d returned from the beach and relieved Violet, who’d noted their wet hair and damp clothes with her sweeping gaze but said nothing about it. Colby had slept through their absence, just as Syrus had known he would.

At Luke’s insistence, they’d showered the salt water off their skin before retiring. They’d both been quiet through the process, though Luke had muttered about home renovations and the need to expand the shower to accommodate “hulking mermen with wandering hands.”