Content warning: explicit

The night air is cool against our skin, but the exertions of passion warm us quickly. Martin's sighs and soft moans are sweet as music to my ears, and I draw them from his lips like nectar as I kiss him.

Gradually, he had surrendered himself to me, piece by piece, until he lay soft and malleable as butter in my arms. A brush of my hand and he shivers; a stroke of fingers and he gasps. The slide of his tongue is hot silk against mine; the catch of his breath a spark that ignites a fire.

I love his softness and the smoothness of his skin, and trail kisses down his body in a meandering path. My tongue teases the erect bud of a nipple, and his barely stifled cry tells me I found a sensitive spot. I subject him to this amorous torment a while, my hand tracing a slow trail up his thigh, until his breath quickens.

Shifting my position, I pause to meet his eyes and smile.

"You're beautiful," I say.

Even breathless with arousal, a trace of his self-consciousness returns. "If you say so."

"I do. And I want you to feel as beautiful as you appear to me."

"I suppose there's no accounting... for taste," he gasps, as I settle between his thighs.

"Speaking of taste..."

I grin and sink below his line of sight to lick the tip of his stiff little cock. He's got nothing to be ashamed of, as far as I'm concerned: just on the small side of average. Perfect for sucking on.

His body jolts as I take him in my mouth and he stifles a whimper as I set to work. When his abdominal muscles contract and I taste precum, I stop.

"Turn over," I say, reaching for the bottle of oil.

His breath hitches and his eyes widen in the dark, twin moons reflected in the black orbs.

"Only if you want to," I amend. "Only if you're sure."

"I'm sure," he whispers, and turns over, raising himself on his elbows and knees.

"Talk to me," I say. "Tell if it's good, or if it hurts. Tell me to stop, and I'll stop."

He nods, then whispers, "Okay."

I study his form and hesitate a moment more. He's offering himself willingly, and I sense his passions match my own, but after everything he's told me, I wonder if it isn't too soon; if this will hurt, or help him heal.

Then he does as I'd asked, and speaks.

"Sky... please."

I rest a hand on his back. "Please, what?"

"Please... fuck me already. I want you to fuck me... please."

I swallow, more turned on by his breathless plea than I care to admit, and uncap the oil.

Pouring some on my hand, I slick my hardened shaft, then reach around Martin to grasp his as I rub my fingers over his entrance. I push one finger inside, working him into readiness, then two. He stifles a sound and stiffens, his erection flagging, and I pause.

"No, don't stop," he gasps. "Please, don't stop."

"I don't want to hurt you."

He shakes his head. "You won't. Trust me. Please."

"Alright, Love. Alright."

Readjusting my position, I set the head of my cock to his hole and enter him. He gasps and shudders, but his tight heat is too much to resist, and I penetrate his body with a single, slow thrust.

A cry escapes him, and he collapses forward, his shaft softening as pain eclipses pleasure. I lean over him, rubbing his back and waiting for him to adjust, then stroke him until he hardens again.

When the balance tips back towards pleasure, I begin to move with small, slow thrusts, letting him feel me inside him. Soon his little sobs have turned to steady moans, and when a ragged, 'Please, Sky...' escapes him, I give in.

Gripping his hips, I thrust into him, as hard and fast as he seems to want it. Again and again, each movement building towards a blinding ecstasy. At last, with a tingle of electricity that shoots along my spine, I bury myself deep and spill into his heat.

He spasms as well, my hand sliding up and down his oiled length, and comes with a strangled cry, collapsing beneath me.

I lay over him, chest heaving, as the world spins beneath and the heavens above us, and we catch our breath.

I kiss his shoulder.

"Okay?"

"Mmm," he groans into the blanket.

I shake him gently. "Martin?"

He rolls over with a sigh and blinks up at me. "What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Better than alright." He smiles, reaching to thread his fingers through my hair and pulling me down into a kiss.

"You're sure I didn't hurt you?"

He shakes his head. "I'm a wolf, remember? I'm fine."

"Will you show me?"

Seemingly embarrassed, he mumbles, "I'm not much to see."

"You say that about this form, too," I counter, brushing my knuckles against his cheek, "and you're dead wrong."

He looks away and his voice drops to a whisper. "Not yet, okay? Let's just stay like this awhile."

Giving in, I lay back at his side and pull him against me, draping the towels over us as makeshift blankets for warmth.

Nestled against my chest, Martin sighs contentedly and shuts his eyes.

"Thank you for this, Sky," he murmurs. "For making me feel... loved. I've been so, so afraid. But I'm... not afraid anymore. And I think that... I think you might be... my true..."

He sighs again, the thought unraveling, and falls asleep.

"I love you, too," I whisper, and kiss the side of his head.

We lie like that for some time, the stars and moon wheeling on their slow journey overhead, but at last I rouse myself and rise.

Martin slumbers on. I don't want to wake him, but I also don't want to miss the tide.

Smoothing out a patch of fine sand, I write him a simple note in it.

Gone to sea. Back by sunrise.

I enclose it in a large heart to make it more noticeable, and with a final touch of his soft dark curls and light kiss upon his temple, I leave my gentle lover to his slumbers and walk down to the edge of the sea.

Still unclothed, I stride into the moonlit waves. The touch of seawater triggers my transformation, and as I dive beneath the surface, my skin turns to scales, my lungs adapt to breathe water, and my legs fuse into a long, fish's tail.

For a moment, I allow myself to revel in weightless freedom of this form, letting the waves roll me and leaping clear to flick my tail at the moon. Then, with my mission in mind, I set my sights towards the deeper sea.

I can't get close to home, of course, but I'm thousands of miles away, and the amulet's effects are minimal. Meanwhile, if one of my sisters has been trying to contact me with magic, she'll have to be somewhere close by — somewhere within a few hundred miles, anyway — and a mer can swim that distance in a few hours.

First, though, I have to let her know I'm here.

Taking a 'breath' of water, I open my mouth and sing.

Sound travels farther and faster in water than it does through air, and with any luck, my sister will hear my song and come to me.

In the meantime, I enjoy myself in the open sea. I've missed this freedom; the rush of water against my scales and through my tendrilous hair, the seemingly endless expanse of moonlit blue, and the mysteries and dangers of deeper places.

After an hour has passed, I turn towards shore. As much as I enjoy my time in this element, I enjoy the time I've spent with Martin more, and already feel myself drawn back to him. I swim slowly, nonetheless, giving my sister time to reach me, if she's even within range. If she is, she'll have heard me and will know where to find me now. If not, I'll try again tomorrow night.

The lure of dry land and a warm bed calls to me like its own sort of siren song, and I smile to myself as I think how accustomed I've become to life above. What calls to me even stronger, though, is the promise of Martin's embrace — his lithe form molded to mine and his sweet scent more life-giving than oxygen.

As my longing intensifies, I press a hand to my breast, surprised by the strength of the feeling. It's almost as if...

What had Martin said? That he thought I might be his true... something. Could he have meant to say 'mate?'

With sudden certainty, joy sparks through my veins so fiercely it seems to light the surrounding sea. Then I realize the light around me is real — a blue bioluminescence flickering through the water like faint lightning.

I turn in time to see a mer rising from the deeper waters below, and my joy flees like a school of fish before a shark.

It can't be.